June 3, 1926
Edward Elric was in a lousy mood as he strode through the hallways of Central Military Headquarters. He suspected his mood showed clearly on his glowering face, as several men and women—mostly enlisted or staff—scurried out of the way or pointedly avoided looking his direction. They knew to leave him alone when his temper was riled!
Ed sighed, and tried to school his expression to something less frightening. Despite still being one of the shorter members of the military, his rank and "legendary" status were enough to make people nervous. He didn't want them to have reason to be. Today just really wasn't going his way.
"Ed, there you are." Alphonse caught up with him from behind, matching his stride easily as he fell into step. Longer legs were good for that sort of thing. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."
Ed looked at his brother. "I said I'd be here." He shook his head as they reached the doors to the locker rooms for the military's training facilities. Access to those was one of the biggest perks of the job in Ed's mind. "The President just likes to drag out meetings these days."
"Ed, were you two arguing again?" Al sounded more resigned than annoyed.
Ed looked around, out of habit now, and noted that no one else was currently in the locker area. "No more than usual," he said as he stripped down to shorts and pulled out more appropriate workout clothes. "I just feel like I'm repeating myself over and over at this point. I think he actually understands it. It's the rest of the Assembly that doesn't seem to get that I've told them everything I'm going to tell them."
"Oh, one of those meetings," Al nodded, his expression understanding. "I've had a few of those myself."
Ed pulled on a white, short sleeved shirt, light blue pants made not to inhibit movement, and tied his shoes. He made a note to take the clothes home this evening. They were definitely going to need a wash after today. He left his hair braided. It wasn't military standard, but then State Alchemists weren't necessarily held to the usual standards; or at least, Mustang had never held him to it. Which was good. Ed had been in his uniform a few times for official functions and the like, and it was stiff and uncomfortable. It just didn't feel right. "Well, hopefully they'll get tired of meetings sometime before we're too old to be coherent."
"That would be nice," Al laughed. "Come on. A little sparring will improve your mood. You need to relax, Ed."
"Yeah, right." Ed glared, then shrugged. "So, what's the game today?" he asked as they walked out another set of doors into the gym itself. There were a few soldiers in here, working out or training. But then, there always were. It just depended on the time of day how busy the place was.
Ed and Al took stances across from each other on the mats set up for sparring. Ed still found it amusing that the area was padded. He and Al had never bothered with padding anything when they trained together growing up. It was unnecessary, but it was nice to end up with at least a few less bruises at the end of the day.
"No time limit; the usual rules; no alchemy today."
"I'm sure they'd be mad if we messed this place up." Though Ed had been tempted to do that more than once. So, no really dirty tricks—eye gouges and the like—which weren't his style anyway, or anything that might actually break something, but anything else went. That would definitely help him blow off a little steam. "Let's play."
Al settled back into position, apparently willing to play the waiting game. He was good at that. Ed grinned, and happily took the offensive with a rapid series of punches and kicks that aimed alternately for head, body, arms, and thighs in quick succession and multiple times, not necessarily in the same order. Unsurprisingly, Al blocked them all, though not—Ed noticed approvingly—without a couple of close calls. Al's feet hadn't moved. But then, he'd always been a better fighter; at least on the technical aspects. Ed had gotten very good at improvising over the years.
Finally, Al seemed to have had enough and struck out with a perfectly placed kick as he dodged one of Ed's punches, sweeping Ed's leg out from under him. Ed came down, caught himself in a roll as he did so, and came back up just in time to dodge two blows at his head. Al was really pushing him now!
Ed backed up a couple of steps and went briefly on the defensive while he got his footing, then dodged, flipping up into the air as Al came in, and smirked as he briefly landed on his brother, hands on his shoulders, then continued the flip on over, landing behind him, facing Al's back as he came around to block.
Al was just a little too slow, and Ed caught him once good, but found himself over-extended, and winced as he could see the open shot coming in toward his midsection.
Oof!
Ed stumbled back briefly, went to recover, and missed on the edge of the mat, managing to catch himself only at the very last second and rolling, fast, under Al's leg, managing to come up, once more, on the other side of his brother...panting.
Al laughed as he came around, solidly blocking Ed's next punch. "Your movements are a little jerky today."
You can be such a little jerk!
Ed blinked, and almost didn't see Al's next strike until he barely had time to block. He disengaged, mentally shaking himself. Forget about it. That was this morning. Just focus on the... oh hell! He dodged again, coming back in with another offensive attack, spinning past only when he had to and trying to keep things close. As long as he was in close, he had a size advantage on Al. He was glad he was used to fighting his brother. As off as he was today, if he didn't know his opponent, he might have been in more trouble.
"Are you alright?" Al asked as he got another tag on Ed, one foot grazing the side of his head instead of meeting the block Ed normally would have managed without issue.
"I'm fine." Ed shook himself again. Focus, Edward. "Like I said, just a bad day."
"Must be," Al said as they continued to spar. "You're practically telegraphing all your moves."
Great. Ed dodged, then attacked again. He'd need something more creative if he wanted to win against Al. Their fights still often ended in a stale-mate. "Then why haven't you beaten me yet?" he asked, grinning with bravado.
"Cause I need the exercise," Al laughed, dropping to the ground so fast Ed almost missed it as he blinked, then looked down to find Al scissoring his own legs out and—
-Owwww! Ed leapt over his head, dove into a roll, and came up, intending to end it when hands on his ankles brought him down on his face with a loud thunk and a slam just hard enough he was momentarily disoriented. "I give!" he managed to squeak out. Immediately he was free. He rolled over, felt his nose to make sure he hadn't cracked the stupid thing, then looked at Al, who was sitting on the mats a couple of feet away, cross legged and panting. "Nice grab."
"If I'd done it right, I'd have had you pinned before you called it," Al chuckled a little and wiped the sweat from his forehead with one arm. "You really are off today, though. I shouldn't have caught you with that scissor move."
"Yeah," Ed winced as he crouched and stood. "I'm going to be sore as hell down there later."
"I'll send my apologies to Winry," Al's grin went truly wicked. A rare expression.
"Somehow I doubt that'll be a problem." Not after this morning anyway.
"What's wrong?" Al's smile faded immediately. "You two haven't been fighting, have you?"
Ed shrugged as he stretched, then walked over to the bench, turning his back on Al as he grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. "We had a stupid disagreement last night," he snorted. "I thought it was over with, but when I got up this morning Winry was in the worst mood. Nearly snapped my head off for making toast "the wrong way." I even apologized last night." Just thinking about it pissed him off again. Sure, he'd been wrong, but he'd actually admitted it. She'd said it was okay last night. So, what was going on? "Maybe she's just stressed about work," he sighed. "Or maybe she's still mad, though I don't know why."
"Maybe she's pregnant," Al quipped.
"Don't be ridiculous, Al! There's no-" Images came unbidden, and plenty of them, of a good number of very long, very active nights with Winry, and Ed felt the blood drain from his face.
He turned back to Al, and found his brother standing, arms crossed, smirking. "It's as likely as anything else, though I'm mostly kidding. Winry's got a volatile temper on a good day. So do you. But if you thought it was worked out, you should probably talk to her again. She isn't usually that irrational. Temperamental sure; irrational no."
"Yeah." Damn. That was one possibility Ed hadn't thought of. It really wasn't one he wanted to seriously contemplate. "Though there's plenty of reasons she could be in a bad mood. The shop's been crowded lately. She's been sick the last few days. After last night..."
"Like I said, talk to her," Al uncrossed his arms and headed for the locker room. "But I wouldn't rule out the possibility," he added, smiling, though this one was more sympathetic.
Ed caught up to him in a few paces. "I'd rather not think about it," he sighed. No, he wasn't ready to deal with that eventuality. "Besides, if she was, don't you think Winry would have figured it out?" She'd flipped through medical books as a child the way Ed and Al had poured over their father's Alchemy texts. Surely, she was a better judge of that kind of thing than either of them.
Al shrugged. "Relax, Ed. It was just an idea. If she's been sick, then maybe she's just having a couple of bad days."
Yeah. That was it. Just a couple of bad days. Ed could deal with that. Maybe he could even help hurry the bad mood on out. But how? He really wasn't sure. Sometimes, it was still hard figuring Winry out.
June 6, 1926
Ed's first clue that something was up was the CLOSED sign in the Rockbell Auto-mail shop window. Closed, in the middle of the afternoon? Was she sick enough to have actually closed up early? Or were their suspicions confirmed? Winry had been in to see the doctor earlier that morning. Either way, it made him uneasy.
He made his way up the back stairs to their apartment and went inside. The lights were off, though the windows were wide open, letting in plenty of afternoon light. There was no one in their little kitchen, though there was a cup of tea that had gone cold, and a book left open on the table.
"Winry?" Ed called her name, trying not to sound worried as he headed for the bedroom. He didn't hear the shower running, so maybe she was taking a nap. It would make sense. He peeked in, and was relieved to see her familiar form lying, back to him, on the bed. "Winry?" he tried again, a little softer.
"I'm awake." Her reply was soft, not revealing much. "Just resting."
"Are you okay?" he asked, entering now that he was fairly certain there wasn't a wrench—or any other tool—coming at his head for interrupting her, and sitting down on the bed. "You closed up early."
Winry rolled over. "I feel lousy," she admitted. "Still congested, sick to my stomach. I figured, after having to open late this morning, I might as well write off the rest of the day after I finished with scheduled customers."
"Ah. How did this morning go?" he asked. Obviously not terribly, but he was too nervous to ask the real question on his mind, though she had to know what he really wanted to know.
"I've got a cold," Winry replied, verifying what Ed had expected—or at least hoped—the diagnosis would be. "...and I'm pregnant."
Ed was pretty sure the only expression showing on his face was shock, but that was probably a good thing. Panic and terror were next on that list. Or perhaps they were both clear, because Winry smirked at him wryly.
"Don't look so surprised, Edward. You look like a sick fish." Her expression softened a little. "Sorry I've been a bitch lately."
"What? No, you haven't been a—" Ed started to reassure her, perhaps a little too forcefully, because he found himself laughing, likely concussive-pain-to-come be hanged. "All right, yeah. But I guess you've got a pretty good excuse then. I'll have to tell Al he's far too observant." Frantic laughing… but he couldn't quite control it.
"Al knows?" Winry asked curiously.
"He uh...made a comment to the effect when I was blowing off steam the other day. We were sparring and..."
"You were complaining. I got it." Winry scowled, then it just turned into a sigh. "And I'm too tired to be angry, or huffy, or righteously indignant."
"There's a first. I'll try not to get used to it," Ed promised.
"Good," Winry replied. "It won't last. Are you..."
"Am I what?" Ed asked, though he feared she was going to ask him something where the answer was likely to hurt her feelings. His heart was still racing, and it was all he could do not to break out into a full sweat. Pregnant! Geez, they weren't ready for this. Or at least, he wasn't. He hadn't even thought about kids as more than a vague in-the-future concept. He had told her his feelings on the subject once, but it was a whole different story when the situation was no longer hypothetical.
"Are you okay with this?" Winry asked, and she looked so vulnerable—in that way she had an annoying habit of looking, even when Ed knew she really was and it wasn't an act—that Ed couldn't stand to see her cry. Fortunately, that was a question he could answer fairly honestly. He hated any time he couldn't tell Winry the absolute truth of a situation. They'd promised each other they were beyond that. He hadn't broken that promise yet.
He smiled nervously. "Sure, I'm okay with it," he managed, taking one of her hands and squeezing it. "Surprised, that's all. I need to get used to the idea."
It was worth it to see Winry visibly relax. "Oh good! I was worried. I know this sounds silly, but I thought you might be mad at me or something. You know how irrational you can get and I—"
Ed cut her off with a finger to her lips. "You're babbling. Relax, okay?" He lay down next to her, so they could talk more comfortably. "It's been an exciting day, and you've got a lot on your mind. How about we finish that nap I interrupted and deal with the rest of the world in a few hours?"
Winry snuggled into his side, her head resting heavily on his shoulder. "That sounds like a very good idea." She must have been tired, because she was asleep in moments. Ed, on the other hand, knew he wouldn't sleep at all. Not until he could get his own whirlwind of panic-stricken thoughts under control. Was he 'okay with it?' Sure. It wasn't like there was anything to be done about it now. He could be okay with it, or he could drive himself mad for the next few months. It was the rest of it; the panic, the deep fears that hadn't gone away about his being able to be the kind of father kids should have, the myriad doubts and worries that clouded his mind; that he didn't want to have to bring up again. Right now, she probably wouldn't take it well. At least there was later, and tomorrow, and sometime after that to get used to it all.
He realized then that he hadn't even thought to ask how far along she was...
June 20, 1926
"Hello, Winry?"
Winry barely heard the voice over the machinery running as she finished the last lines of a new auto-mail arm for a client. She turned it off, pushed her goggles up to the top of her head, and wiped the sweat from her brow with one sleeved arm. Wow it was hot today. "In the back," she called out. Smiling, she turned around as Gracia entered the room with a large box in her arms, followed by Elicia, who was grinning brightly. At fifteen, at least at work, she seemed to have adopted a style that was somewhere between her mother's and Winry's. Nicely dressed when she wasn't at work, the girl looked a complete gearhead when she was in the workshop. "Gracia! Hi. What's this?" Winry asked, looking at the box.
Gracia smiled back. "Some old clothes of mine I thought you might find useful. They're probably horribly out of style by now but I figured it was a start. They're just gathering dust in my closet."
"No, that's great," Winry assured her, as she realized they must be Gracia's old maternity clothes. "How thoughtful. I haven't really had time to pick anything up yet and while most of my clothes still technically fit, and they look fine, they're getting a little uncomfortable. How did you know?"
"Experience," Gracia chuckled. "Where would you like these?"
"Well, I was just about to break for lunch. Why don't you bring them upstairs and join me?" While she and Ed hadn't exactly been declaring their new status as pending-parents, Gracia and Elicia had been two of the people Winry had made sure to tell in person before the rumors got out. They were too much like family not to know, or to understand.
They went up to the apartment, and Winry put on tea while Gracia set the box in the hall. "I'll have Ed help me unpack it later," Winry assured her as she started pulling out the fixings for sandwiches. "I'm pretty sure there's room in the closet."
Gracia stepped up and started slicing tomatoes while Winry started with onion. "I'm sure there will be. But is there going to be room for all three of you in this little place? It's a nice apartment but..."
"But it's kind of small," Winry agreed. "And you're right. We won't have any privacy in this place. Ed and I have already decided to look into getting a real house."
"That's wonderful!" Gracia grinned conspiratorially. "There are a couple of nice ones in our neighborhood."
"That would be great!" Elicia exclaimed as she set the table. "We could be neighbors."
Winry liked that idea. "I'll talk to Ed. We're supposed to start looking this afternoon. He promised to come home early even if it meant encasing Roy Mustang in stone."
"Well, I hope it doesn't come to that." Gracia chuckled.
"Me too. But we've only got about six months to get moved in completely if we want to have time to get settled before we have a baby to bring home." It was hard to think of herself as three months pregnant already. Somehow it didn't feel like they had a lot of time left.
Gracia sipped from her glass. "So how are you doing, Winry?"
"Tired," she admitted, still smiling as she pulled out meat and cheese and started assembling. "Sore. Nauseous at odd hours, and I'm always hungry. I think it's cruel for anyone to have to feel starved and yet incapable of keeping food down at the same time." She smacked a sandwich together with a little more force than intended. "Oops." She wiped up a drip of dressing.
"It's all right," Gracia patted her shoulder. "I've been there. And I know you'll handle this whole thing just fine."
"How do you know that?" Winry asked.
"You're too stubborn to do otherwise. On top of being sensible, young, and healthy to begin with. It's a wonderful thing, having your own child. I always felt blessed, and Maes spoiled me so." Her face took on a soft, slightly faraway look for a moment, though it wasn't as sad as it used to be. "How's Edward handling all this?" she asked as they all sat down at the table.
Winry poured a glass of water. "He's... well he wants me to think he's happy about it," she found herself admitting. She knew he was panicked, and upset, and worried. She hadn't forgotten their conversation months back. But he wouldn't bring it up, and she didn't want to upset him further. Still, she needed a release, and Gracia seemed the best person to talk to. "And I think he is, on some level. But he's scared, Gracia. He's absolutely terrified that, because he doesn't know any alchemists who were successful parents—or even good ones—or really know anyone whose family hasn't had some sort of tragedy, that he won't be able to take care of us the way he thinks he should."
Gracia's expression was patient and understanding. "His father left when the boys were young. Your parents died in Ishval. Maes... well," she sighed. "I can see why he's scared. I think he'll make a wonderful father though. He's so good with kids."
"I know," Winry sighed. "He loves them, really, and he's actually wonderful with them." She smiled sadly. It was all so frustrating. She drank from her glass, and tried to calm down. The room felt warm.
"He'll come around," Gracia said reassuringly.
"Sure," Elicia piped up. "Edward'll do fine when he stops being scared. I mean, he was there when I was born after all."
"That's right," Winry said. "He and Al were pretty panicked, or so I hear the story."
"They did very well," Gracia smiled. "Especially considering their own inexperience, and I'm sure my going on didn't help any. It's hard to be the sensible adult when you're the one in labor."
"I'll keep that in mind," Winry replied. "I just wish I could convince Ed to stop worrying so much. He's even been having nightmares about it."
"Oh really?" Gracia frowned. "That bad?"
"He won't say anything of course. But I've been up more during the night, and I've seen him, and heard him. He talks in his sleep more when he's upset." A useful fact, Winry had discovered. "It's often nightmares about all the things that could go wrong."
"He hasn't had an easy life. I know none of us really have. Most people don't. But he and Alphonse have had enough adversity and excitement to last half a dozen adventurous young men a lifetime; taking on such adult tasks when they were still boys. Their childhood ended so abruptly." Gracia shook her head.
Elicia sat beside her mother, looking solemn. "I miss Daddy," she said after some very serious thought. "But that doesn't mean I'm not happy. He was a hero. He worked hard, and he died doing his job, and he loved us. That's what I remember about him most, was how much he loved us. Isn't that all that really matters?"
Gracia smiled. "Maybe you should tell Ed that, sweetie."
Elicia looked at Winry. "Do you mind?"
"No," Winry smiled. "Go ahead. I think, of all of us, he's most likely to listen to you." After all, she was the one he had watched being born. They shared a birthday, and fond memories of a good father and friend. "I'll talk to him soon," she turned back to Gracia. "I have to. I can't take watching him suffer like this, trying to hold it in thinking I don't notice. He wants the child, I know that, but I want him to be able to enjoy this with me."
"He'll come around. Just don't push him too hard." Gracia sipped from her glass with a slightly amused smile. "Men can be emotionally fragile."
The laugher that ensued felt very, very good.
June 21, 1926
Elicia was the kind of young woman who took things seriously. At least, once she was set to a task, she always finished it, no matter how difficult or time consuming. She was rarely frustrated, and always cheerfully determined. These were traits that Winry had told her made for an excellent auto-mail designer and mechanic. Elicia remembered the first time Winry had told her that. She had only been six at the time, but it been the first time Elicia had ever thought of the possibility of doing what Winry did. She had known she wanted to do something important, like Daddy had, but she didn't think she was entirely cut out for the military. Not because she was a girl of course, but it just didn't seem a good fit.
When Winry had asked her if she wanted to learn to work on auto-mail, Elicia had been thrilled. Her mother had seemed happy enough. Probably because it was a safe line of work, a useful skill, and it was one of the first things Elicia had shown a real interest in. Winry was a good friend, and working together on auto-mail had distracted both girls, and made them both happy. Elicia suspected that was part of why her mother allowed it at first. Elicia had started working with Winry right after Alphonse had gone back to the other world with Edward. That had been a hard time, but Winry had been like a sister to Elicia for years, and she always wanted to help her "big sister" out when she could.
Which was why she was so determined to set Edward's mind straight on this whole issue. It was silly for him to be so scared. He'd faced so many dangers and come home smiling. Why worry about what could go wrong when nothing was? Elicia had learned that holding on to the pain of the past just made it hurt worse. It was better to focus on the good, take what you learned from the experience, and move on; not forgetting, just forgiving the world for letting it happen.
She didn't want to wait long, so as soon as she got done sweeping up the shop the next evening, and they closed, Elicia headed out to see if she could intercept Edward on his way home. Her mother would understand if she was a little late. Besides, the shop was only a few blocks from Central HQ. No one was going to bother her. If they did, she'd beat them with a wrench. It really was a useful form of protection. Not that she looked the type in her street clothes, a simple cream summer dress with a dark rose sheer short jacket over it. She just looked like herself; innocent and fifteen.
Elicia headed toward Central HQ, figuring she could probably intercept Edward, but she needed a way to get the conversation going without saying something stupid like "Winry told me all about your nightmares yesterday." Yeah, that would get him to open up! Right! Hrmm... oh!
She spotted him about half way between the shop and headquarters. Smiling, she waved.
Edward spotted her and waved back as they came closer. "Hi, Elicia," he smiled, stopping to talk, just as she'd hoped he would. Perfect. "Off work already?"
"It's after six," Elicia pointed out. "We closed up shop half an hour ago."
"Then what are you still doing around here?" Edward asked. Good, she had his curiosity peaked. Normally, she'd either be chatting with Winry, or arriving home by now.
"I was kinda hoping...maybe we could talk," Elicia suggested. "I see Winry all the time, but I don't really get to see you very much." She'd always felt a kinship with Edward as she did with Winry, partially from their shared birthday, and partially because of the fact that her father had always liked Edward too, and it had been like having an older brother. Edward had never made her feel insignificant just because she was a little kid. She'd remembered that and, now that he and Alphonse and Winry were back, he still treated her like a little sister maybe, but he never talked down to her, or treated her like she couldn't do something because of her age. After all, by fifteen, he had been a state alchemist for three years, and he and Alphonse had been doing all sorts of dangerous things.
"Sure," Edward blinked then he shrugged. "How about we get a soda?" he motioned to the little café they had stopped beside.
Perfect! Elicia grinned. "I'd love a soda."
The place was pretty quiet, but then, it was just early enough that the dinner crowd had not come pouring in yet. Elicia was grateful for it as they sat down. The other nice thing about Edward being out of uniform most of the time; some people rarely looked at him twice or, if they knew him, they had gotten used to having him around. Elicia knew Edward wasn't entirely comfortable with being famous all the time. She liked that about him though. Winry was so lucky! Elicia had to admit she was a little jealous. Winry had run off on an adventure to find the man she loved, found him, and returned! And oh my... Alphonse had gotten really good looking while he was gone. Not that that did much good. Even though he was physically only five years older than she was now, he had the memories to be much older, and he tended to behave like the twenty-five-year-old his mind knew him to be. It was really unfair!
That was all right though. There were more than enough boys her own age around. The problem was, she wasn't interested in the ones who were interested in her.
"So, what did you want to talk about, Elicia?" Edward asked when they were seated with their drinks in front of them.
"I was wondering about... well. Why is it the only kinds of boys who seem to be interested in me are the wrong kind?" she asked, her tone plaintive. She meant it too. It was something she had wanted to ask about. Might as well get the difficult bit of conversation out early. It might open him up too.
Edward nearly snorted his soda. "What do you mean?" he asked. Obviously, this hadn't been the question he was expecting.
Elicia sighed. "I mean they're all boorish, or rude, or completely self-absorbed! All they think about is themselves. Unless it's themselves, and how much they'd like to show me off," she stuck her tongue out at the very idea.
Edward chuckled. "Sounds like a lot of guys," he commented.
"You're not like that," Elicia objected. "Or Alphonse. Daddy wasn't like that either. Uncle Roy isn't like that...most of the time," she added the qualifier. "But I think that's an act anyway. He's always very polite to Mom and I." She sipped her drink. "So why can't I meet someone who's nice? Someone I can have an intelligent conversation with!"
"Because you're talking about fifteen-year-old boys," Edward smirked. "And if Gracia's smart, she's already warned you all about them."
"Well, yes," Elicia rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't help me find the good ones. I don't remember you or Alphonse being like that when I was little."
"Al was never typical," Edward replied. "He's always been abnormally polite. I used to think maybe there was something wrong with him."
"Oh, you did not!" Elicia tossed a wadded napkin at him, and it bounced off his arm.
Edward snickered. "Only sometimes. Even nice guys are egotistical brats sometimes, Elicia. Just ask Winry if you want proof."
"Oh, I've done that," Elicia smiled, teasing just a little. "She has thousands of stories that start with "There was this one-time Ed did something absolutely insufferable.""
"Oh really?" he looked at her, and she hoped she hadn't made him mad. But he just shrugged. "So why ask me then?"
Shouldn't that have been obvious? "Because you're a boy! Or well... a man," Elicia exclaimed. "I figure you're the only man I can talk to who might take me seriously. At least who's alive." The last sentence was a fact, one that hurt, but not like it had when she was a child. She had gotten used to it; and hoped that really, that last ache would never go away.
Now Edward looked a little uncomfortable. "You could always ask Al."
Elicia felt her face going pink, and took another drink to hide it.
"Oh!" Edward smiled. Damn the man was perceptive! "Don't worry. Too many girls have that reaction to Al now. I think it's the tall thing." Elicia felt a brief moment of alarm before Edward said, "Don't worry. I won't tell."
"Thanks," Elicia felt relief. That would be embarrassing. "It's just frustrating. I know I'm not old enough for anything serious. I don't really want anything serious. But is it too much to ask for at least one boy my own age that thinks about something other than food and what's under my dress?"
Okay, now she'd made Edward uncomfortable. She could tell from his expression Perhaps she had gone a little too far with the last comment. Edward was twelve years older after all.
"Sorry," she blushed.
"That's all right," Edward assured her. "There are a few who are entirely oblivious, at least to the second part. You may just have to deal with the fact that guys, at least ones who aren't souls in suits of armor, eat."
"Good thing I can cook," Elicia grinned. He hadn't really answered her question, other than to verify that there were guys out there if she waited. Still, it was good to talk it out with someone who had once been a fifteen-year-old boy, even if he had never really been normal. Clearly, Elicia really didn't want normal. "Thanks, Edward."
"For what?" he asked, smiling, but looking a little bemused. "I don't think I've told you anything you didn't know, Elicia. You're a smart girl."
"For taking me seriously," she replied, smiling back. "For giving me an honest answer, and for not treating me like a kid...well, not treating me like a dumb kid."
"Yeah well, I hated that when I was your age," Edward replied, his tone making it clear he remembered that feeling all too well, and had hated it. He always liked to be taken seriously. "I try not to do things that bug me."
"That's good," Elicia replied. "I sometimes think talking to Daddy would have been like this if he was still here," she added softly, then grinned brightly at him. "You remind me of him sometimes."
His started reaction was precisely what she had been going for. "I do?"
"Sure," she finished her drink and looked up at him. "You're kind, and brave, and you do what you think you have to. You might as well be family; you and Winry both. I feel like I can talk to you." Her tone was softer now, but earnest.
Edward seemed...floored. "Thanks, Elicia," he smiled after taking several moments to absorb what she had said. Or to just get over the shock, she wasn't sure which. "That's quite a compliment. Your Dad was a great man."
"He was a great dad," Elicia reiterated. "And I know you will be too."
There. She hoped she'd struck the right chord. If not, she might have just made things worse. But she really hoped that didn't happen!
To her relief, Edward was still smiling, if obviously a little unsure of how to handle the conversation. But then, from what Elicia had heard and figured out, boys and men were both uncomfortable with these kinds of discussions most of the time. "Thanks," he finally said again. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."
"You're welcome," she replied. "Though I can't be the only one who thinks so. I know my mom thinks the same thing." She didn't want to mention Winry. That was Winry's place, and if Edward didn't know that by now, then that was private business. Elicia had to fight not to say a lot more. Too much would just make him realized that the whole thing was planned. Elicia was pretty sure her mother and Winry hadn't actually expected her to go find Ed and talk to him, especially not this soon, but Elicia had meant it. She just wanted to help though, not cause more trouble.
She was glad Edward didn't ask her if she had talked to Winry. He was probably smart enough to know she had. They worked together all day and they were friends.
"If I'm lucky," Edward said when he spoke again, "I'll get a kid like you, instead of one like me." He dared to lean over and ruffle her bangs with one hand.
"Hey!" she swatted, realizing too late it was his auto-mail arm, and smacking her hand against the sleeve-covered metal. "Oww!"
"Sorry," Edward smiled and stood. He had finished his drink. "You should be getting home, or your mother will be mad at me for keeping you, and Winry will just be mad."
Elicia nodded and stood. "Thanks for the soda, Edward." She liked not having to call him "General." That was just too weird, despite the number of military officers she knew. Calling Edward or Alphonse by their rank just seemed wrong somehow.
"You're welcome, Elicia," Edward smiled as they walked out of the shop. "And it's just Ed. When you call me Edward, it reminds me of my mother."
"Or mine," Elicia giggled. "She always uses full names. She's weird like that." She stopped as they reached the corner. From here, their paths split. She would catch a cab home. "If you would rather I call you Ed, why haven't you said something before? You've been home for almost a year."
"Because it's one of a very few things that hasn't changed," Edward grinned. "You're not my mother, you're not my subordinate, and you're not really a kid anymore. You're more like my sister, and having family call me by full name is just weird... or scary, since it usually means I'm in trouble."
Elicia laughed and waved as they parted. She just hoped that she had helped in what little way she could.
Ed was surprised at how much better he felt as he watched Elicia hop into a cab and head home. He turned, strolling down the street, his mind full, but at least now it wasn't full of all the stresses that had been piling up; not his fears and doubts about impending fatherhood, nor the lack of luck they'd had looking at houses the day before, or dealing with the military. He was sick of spending all his time in Central. He wanted to be out doing something helpful instead of sitting in meetings all day, or learning exactly what was involved in being a General; he was getting pretty good at that part.
But for the moment, at least, that weight was lifted. Elicia was such a remarkable girl. Perhaps more so because of how well she had, in the long term, dealt with life after Hughes' death. Ed certainly hadn't handled his own momentous loss nearly so well. He'd hated his father for years for leaving, and made the biggest mistake of his life in trying to resurrect his mother. That had cost him, and especially Al, far too much.
But Elicia seemed to be a well-adjusted teenage girl. In truth, she was probably less spoiled than she would have been if Hughes had lived, but her sweet temperament and her mother would have kept that in line, Ed was pretty sure. It was no wonder Winry liked having Elicia as a student and assistant. Ed had to admit that, at times, he was a little jealous of how close the two had become. He was fairly sure that Winry discussed things with Elicia that she didn't always discuss with him. Well, that was why it was called girl talk, wasn't it?
So, Elicia and Gracia both thought he'd be a good father. Well, that was no small compliment. Ed was really rather blown away by the things Elicia had said; comparing him to Maes Hughes was top on that list. Wow! Now that was something. It was a little unnerving really, and yet, somehow, he felt better. They knew him, with all his faults, and still they felt that way. He was pretty sure Winry felt the same, or at least he hoped. Otherwise, would she have married him?
Well yeah, he had to admit, probably. Neither of them had really been thinking about family much when they had, almost literally, stumbled into marriage over a year before. Not that it felt that long. To Ed, it still felt too soon, even though Europe felt worlds away now; which was as it should be.
A delicate scent in his nose made Ed turn, and he found himself standing in front of the little flower shop two blocks down from the apartment. While he wasn't one to give in to random romantic urges— except at home at night—Ed decided that, maybe, he should do something a little unexpected. He smiled as he picked up a bouquet of fresh summer flowers, paid the flower woman—who smiled knowingly—and headed home.
Ed paused as he stepped inside the apartment and found Winry in the kitchen, with several auto-mail legs spread out on the counters and at the table! She was hard at work adjusting something in the foot of one of the legs. "Well," he grinned. "Somehow I don't think this is quite what they meant."
"They who?" Winry looked up, spotting him, but missing the reference.
Ed smirked. "That old saying about keeping a woman barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen," he teased, walking forward and picking up one of the legs. "I doubt this is what they had in mind."
He was still grinning as he ducked the leg in her hand as she swung it at him. "Hey!" He held up one arm to protect his face, the flowers coming up with it. "Watch it!"
"Are those..." Winry brought the leg back down, and smiled. "Always full of surprises, aren't you?"
"What, these?" Ed uncurled from flinching, and grinned. "I'm not allowed to be romantic once in a while?"
"Well, sure," Winry took the flowers, looking a little dazed, and sniffed them. "They're beautiful. But why?"
"Because," Ed cut her off before she could finish, putting his hands on her arms. "They reminded me of you, and I thought you'd like them."
"That's sweet," Winry leaned in and kissed him softly. "Sometimes you can be a pretty charming guy."
"Only sometimes?" Ed arched an eyebrow.
Winry laughed. "Don't push your luck. Thank you. I love them." She stepped back and turned, apparently to find a vase. "I have had the most exhausting day. How did you know I needed cheering up?"
"Because I needed a little myself," Ed admitted, letting her go as she put water in a vase and put the flowers on the table. They definitely brightened up the little apartment.
She turned back to him with a slightly worried frown at his words.
"Relax. I'm alright," Ed promised. "Actually, I feel pretty good. Amazing given the day I've had. But I wanted to, you know, show you how much I appreciate you putting up with me."
"You should have stopped with 'I thought you'd like them,'" Winry chuckled. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Ed nodded. "Fine now. I know I've been difficult to live with lately."
"Well, I haven't exactly been even-tempered," Winry acknowledged, smiling anyway. Apparently good moods could be contagious. Ed would have to remember that.
"I noticed," Ed took her into his arms again, pulling her close into a much-needed hug. It felt good. Though he was surprised when Winry started to shake, just a little. "Are you crying?" he looked at her, surprised.
Winry shrugged, and smiled up at him, though there were tears running down her cheeks. "Hormones," she said by way of explanation. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," Ed replied. "It's not your fault." Winry was hardly the type to apologize about anything that wasn't absolutely her fault. Ed hoped that eventually he wouldn't find these random shifts of mood quite so unsettling. Though it was almost as unsettling to consider getting used to Winry being pregnant. He managed a half-grin. "If anything, it's mine."
"Both of us," Winry sniffed, pulling herself together as best she could and smiling through the tears. "We were both more than willing participants."
"Yeah." He brought up a finger and wiped the tears from under one of her eyes. "I'm not sure I can handle you bursting into tears all the time," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "I'm always sure I've done something stupid."
It had the desired effect; Winry's smile solidified. "Well, sometimes maybe, but certainly not as much lately. It's kind of frustrating," she admitted. "I feel the same way sometimes. I mean... well."
"What?" What was bothering her now? Ed had hoped to keep things positive tonight.
"You talk in your sleep," Winry finally said softly, averting her eyes.
Ed didn't even have to ask what she meant. He knew all too well what he had been dreaming of lately. "Oh." He clutched her close. "Damn it." He didn't ask how much she had heard. It had to be more than enough if it was bothering her. "Yeah, I'm still dealing with a lot of that stuff." They had discussed it before, he didn't want to dredge it all up again now. "But it's just something I have to deal with. In my head, I know you're healthy, and everything's going just fine. I shouldn't be worried about the future. It's just, until now, I never really gave much thought to the future at all beyond attaining goals; never beyond them. This is so much bigger than that."
Winry looked relieved. "So, you're actually happy about this?"
"Ecstatic," Ed replied, relieved to realize that he actually meant the words coming out of his mouth. Not long ago, he wouldn't have been sure. "It's just taking me a little while to get used to it, that's all. It's more an abstract concept for me right now. After all, I'm not the one who's suddenly hungry, nauseated, and emotional."
"No, you're just usually hungry, nauseating, and emotional," Winry countered, but she seemed to be in a better mood.
"Guilty as charged," Ed chuckled. "Sure, I'm scared, and worried, but I'm excited too. This is a journey we can make together. A whole new exciting experience; a positive one. It's not every day we get to be part of a miracle."
"I thought you didn't believe in miracles."
"Well..." Ed shrugged uneasily, and smiled. "You know what I mean." You couldn't replicate a human being, or bring one back. The Soul couldn't be replaced. He knew that far too well. To understand science, and have something it couldn't do...that, was the miracle. A sweet, innocent child coming out of what should have been simple biological processes, but was so much more; that was a miracle.
"Yeah, I do," she replied. Ed could feel Winry relaxing in his arms. That was good. This was something he wanted to share with her, to enjoy and experience. He didn't want it to be stressful for her, or make it more difficult than it would be anyway.
"Good, then I don't have to explain," Ed replied, chuckling. "Now, I'm sorry I'm late getting home. I had an interesting conversation with Elicia on the way here."
"Oh?" Winry asked, obviously curious.
"Let's just say your protégé is growing up fast enough I'm nervous even though I'm not her parent," Ed laughed. "Don't worry. It was good. Anyway, have I missed dinner?"
"Dinner..." Winry blushed slightly. "Actually, I haven't really gotten around to making anything with..." she gestured at the auto-mail in their kitchen.
Ed loosened his hug as he stepped back. "Tell you what? Why don't you get comfortable and I'll go pick something up for us instead?"
Winry's smile broadened into one of relief. "You know, sometimes, you're pretty wonderful."
"Gee, thanks," Ed rolled his eyes.
"Hey it was a compliment," Winry laughed.
"With compliments like that, I'm not sure I need insults!"
"I figured you get enough of those," Winry patted his cheek with one hand. "I promise I'll have things cleaned up by the time you get back."
"Good," Ed turned to head back out. "I've never really gotten used to machine oil as an ingredient!"
"That's because it's an acquired taste!" Winry shot back.
Ed was feeling pretty good as he headed back down the stairs. He was getting more excited. Yeah, they were going to be just fine.
September 15, 1926
"Well, it's ours," Winry was grinning as she stood, sidled up against Ed's left side, his arm around her shoulder.
"It is," Ed nodded, looking around the empty living room. They had just finished the paperwork; the house was theirs. It had taken a month to find something they liked that was reasonable though, admittedly, with his new salary and her work they probably could have afforded "unreasonable." Still, Ed couldn't see living like that. The little two-story house was just what they had been looking for; big open rooms, nice yard, good location...bathtub big enough for two. Most importantly, it had enough bedrooms to accommodate children, should they end up having more than one. Ed didn't want to think that far ahead though. Not yet. "Are you as scared as I am?"
"Definitely," Winry chuckled softly. "But I love it, and we still have months to get settled."
That was the good part. "It will take months," Ed grinned, giving her shoulders a squeeze. Months didn't seem long enough. Winry was already five-and-a-half months pregnant. He glanced down, as he caught himself doing often of late, to look at the firm bump that seemed to grow daily. In comparison to some women he'd seen, she really wasn't all that big yet, but it seemed a huge difference to him. Especially when they were home and she was undressed.
"So, we should go back to the apartment and get started," Winry replied.
"You're in a hurry," Ed sighed as they headed for the door. They stepped out front and he locked it behind them.
"Just excited." Winry smiled. "And I'm sure Al would like to be able to move into the apartment as soon as he gets the chance." It had been the perfect arrangement. Winry owned the building still, and they knew Al wasn't the type to trash the place. It was nice to have someone they trusted living above the auto-mail shop too. There was a lot of expensive equipment in there.
"I'm sure he will."
"Excuse me, General Elric."
Ed turned, surprised by the formal address, and saw a Sergeant, in uniform, stepping out of a military vehicle. "Yes, Sergeant?" he addressed the man as the younger guy—he couldn't be more than twenty –saluted sharply.
"Forgive me for interrupting your afternoon General, Mrs. Elric, but President Mustang requests your presence immediately. I was sent with the car, General."
Ed and Winry exchanged a look.
"It has to be important," Winry said softly.
"Obviously." It was probably about the heightened security along the northern border with Drachma. Things had been tense up there for over a month now, ever since a small village on Amestrian soil in the mountains had been raided and burned. It was hard to get across those mountains. The only easy crossing point was the pass that was guarded by Fort Briggs. "I'll go talk to him. He won't be satisfied till I do." And it was, unfortunately, a direct order. He really did want to find out what was going on.
Winry hugged him and stepped back. "I'll see you later," she promised.
"Yeah. I'll see you." He really hoped this one of one Mustang's more whimsical calls for 'General Elric.'"
"So," he asked the Sergeant once he was seated in the car and they were driving toward HQ. "Do you have any further details on why the President has called for me?"
The Sergeant shook his head, eyes never leaving the road. "No, General. Only that your presence is requested immediately."
Ed leaned back and looked out the window at the streets of Central passing by. This did not bode well. It could be nothing, or it could be extremely serious.
As it turned out, it was extremely serious. Ed was directed to the President's Conference Room where he entered to find not only Roy Mustang, but all of the other Generals (from highest rank down to Brigadier Generals) in Central in attendance. He wasn't the only one out of uniform either. Apparently, this meeting had been called in some haste. They were mostly sitting at the table, though a couple of them were standing. Most of them looked irritated. He caught sight of Alphonse seated at the table near the front. His brother wasn't in uniform either.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Gentlemen," Mustang said from where he stood at the head of the table, in front of the large map of Amestris that hung behind him taking up the entire wall. "I apologize for interrupting your weekend, but the situation on the Border had hit a flashpoint. Rather literally." He turned, tapping his finger on the map at a point about thirty miles east of Fort Briggs along the border. "Despite diplomatic negotiations with Drachma, we had another attack last night. This morning, one of our military outposts along the escarpment here was found destroyed."
"Explosives?" One of the older Generals, Brahm, asked; a balding, portly fellow past his prime, but one who had remained loyal and not subverted under Bradley, and so had retained his position.
"Of a sort," Mustang commented. "The ice on the roof and the surrounding hills exploded."
"The ice?" General Williams, on the younger end of middle-aged with dark hair, looked at Mustang as if he were crazy. "Some strange weather phenomenon? Set charges?"
Ed shook his head. He knew exactly what Mustang was talking about. "Alchemy."
"Exactly." Mustang turned to look at each of them in turn, though his eyes lit on Ed first, and last. "Which also explains the lack of the usual signs of attack. Though there's few enough up there this time of year." There was much less snow, for one thing, which meant a lot of bare rock. Few ways in and out though for even a handful of people in that wilderness. "No matter what the Drachmans claim about wanting peaceful discussion of the current border restrictions and laws, these are likely not random strikes. The first was the same. There are also rumors of Drachman movement within some of the other passes. In the summer weather, things are difficult, but more open."
General Brahm nodded. "I've served up there before. It's a deadly mess in the winter, only insanely difficult in the summer."
"I have as well," Mustang nodded. "But also during the summer. What concerns me is that intelligence tells us they are clearly arming, but there has been little sign of movement from the Drachman military at their capital, or from any of their major military outposts. These, we have staked out fairly well. If they have alchemists..."
"Then we fight ice with fire," Williams spoke up again, eyes flashing.
"No," Mustang scowled, though he smirked a moment later. "Tempting as that is, I will not be going." He was choosing to misinterpret...Ed could tell. Then Mustang was frowning again. "It is my belief, and our diplomats and strategists seem to feel the same, that the Drachmans will give up on diplomatic means soon enough, and bring this to open warfare. As such, I wish to start quietly mobilizing now. I want to set up four major points," he turned back to the map and, with a red grease pencil, marked four Xs along it, with one at Fort Briggs. "These cover all of the possible avenues for entry into Amestris from Drachma, even under their best conditions. I want these areas covered within a week of mobilization orders on the long end. I expect it to take no more than three or four days. However, we must not be seen to be blatantly mobilizing, so this is going to be a very quiet operation. I want us to show up in their faces with little to no prior warning if possible."
"How do you expect to do that, Mister President?" General Hoff spoke up, scowling.
"By word of mouth," Mustang smirked again. "And efficiency. You will inform your men without any written orders, and only on secured military grounds. We have already heightened security against spies. That said I, and the rest of the Assembly, want someone on the front who can handle things on the train tomorrow for Fort Briggs. Lieutenant General Armstrong is capable, but she is not an expert in diplomacy, or alchemical military tactics."
Lt. General Armstrong...that was Olivia Armstrong, Ed recalled, one of now-Major-General Alex's older sisters. She had been a Major General when Ed was a kid. Armstrong was, Ed noted, not present. He wondered if he and Mustang had already talked, or if Alex was even in Central at the moment.
"Are there any State Alchemist's already on the front, President Mustang?" Alphonse spoke up. He was one of the lowest ranking officers there, but Ed knew that meant little in this conversation, at least to the people who mattered.
"Two at Briggs," Mustang nodded, but grimaced. "Unfortunately, they are both fairly new to the ranks, and inexperienced. We sent them North originally, because there wasn't a whole lot going on aside from some minor issues in some of the border towns that were, likely, unrelated."
That didn't bode well. Of course, after the mess a decade ago, there had been a lot of turn-over in the ranks of the State Alchemists. There were also still fewer of them, though the military was also doing its best to encourage alchemists less likely to be subverted or perverted by dangerous ideas.
"So, we definitely need an experienced Alchemist on the front," Alphonse nodded, speaking clearly.
"Absolutely," Mustang replied.
It was then and probably at least a moment too late, when Ed realized that almost every pair of eyes, including Mustang's and his own brother's, were on him. He felt resolve harden.
"General Elric," Mustang spoke deliberately. "Amestris needs you to report to Fort Briggs immediately to assess the situation and make arrangements for the distribution of troops once they reach the front, assuming that becomes necessary. Also, to determine and assess the likelihood of an actual threat of enemy Alchemists. We will not, I repeat, not, be using Alchemists as offensive weapons."
Good. Or Ed would have refused out right, court-martial be hanged. But then, he suspected Mustang knew that. Ed nodded. "As you say, President Mustang." Despite the fact that the Assembly was once more the governing body of Amestris, and Mustang only one of its members as President of the Military, his large part in giving them back their authority to begin with gave him, at that same time, a lot of influence. After all, he controlled the entire military branch of the government. Ed grinned smugly. "I'm sure we can handle it."
"I'm sure you can as well," Mustang replied, his own expression nearly as assured. "Which is why I'd like you to take Brigadier General Elric with you as well."
"Is that wise, Mister President?" Brahm asked, looking skeptical. There were several murmurs that died down at one glare from Mustang.
"I think sending an experienced pair of Alchemists to the front at a time like this, as well as ranking military officers, is a wise decision. The Assembly supports it. That those officers and alchemists are the same two men, I find efficient and convenient."
The mumbling stopped.
Alphonse nodded to Mustang. "I will accompany General Elric as you order."
"Good." Mustang looked around the room. "I will want to speak to you all about individual assignments and where we will be sending whom, and the logistics. However, I will do this one at a time for the sake of secrecy and keeping the situation tightly controlled. General Brahm, I'd like to speak with you first. Generals Elric, your further orders and necessary arrangements will be handled by the secretary in my office."
And that was that. As Ed headed for the door, Al joined him, looking accepting, and a little grim. Neither spoke until they were halfway down the hall to Mustang's office.
"I don't like this, Ed," Al commented quietly.
"Me neither," Ed admitted, frowning. "But if he thinks he needs to send both of us, then I'll bet it's almost certain that war's about to break out."
Al nodded. "There's got to be intelligence to that effect; and regarding the threat of Drachman alchemists." That wasn't something they had needed to deal with before.
Ed realized he hadn't really considered how many alchemists, or how they were utilized by the government, there were in Drachma, or even Aerugo or Creta for that matter. "Let's see what his secretary has for us." It couldn't be much more than train tickets. He suspected that those had been arranged before the meeting this afternoon had even taken place. They were being manipulated again; but this time, he understood why it was necessary. Ed couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't have volunteered to go anyway. After all, who better to send?
They entered Mustang's office, and Ed stopped abruptly. "Riza!"
Riza Hawkeye Mustang was standing in the office that stood between the public and the President, rifling through a file. She looked up when Ed and Al entered. "Oh good, you're here."
"Mustang told us to meet his Secretary," Ed commented, though he smiled. Clever, very clever. Apparently, he really didn't want news of their movements getting out.
Riza smirked back. "Better Secretary than Mistress. He tried that one once. I almost castrated him. Anyway," she reached into the cabinet, reached to the back, and Ed heard a small click. Riza pulled a little more, and it was clear that there was a compartment at the back of the drawer. She pulled out two large envelopes and handed one to each of them. "Tickets are in here, as well as details of exactly what's going on that we can't technically tell you, or anyone else, about yet." She looked at them when they glanced at each other. "We've already taken into account the fact that you two will share every piece of information with each other anyway. Really, Roy's counting on it." Her voice softened a little, if only momentarily. "Your train leaves tomorrow morning, early, at oh-five-hundred hours. Less likely you'll be watched leaving at that time. Be inconspicuous."
Ed snorted. "That shouldn't be too hard." It was definitely easier than when Al had been a suit of armor. Anything was easy sneaking after that.
"What can we tell people we know?" Al asked, being cautious.
Ed had been wondering that same thing. Winry was not going to like this.
Riza looked sharply at Ed more than Al. "You'd be wise to keep it uncomplicated, but really, most of what you heard today will be common knowledge in tomorrow's news as far as rumors go. We know Winry's not going to say a word to anyone, but the less she knows, the safer she will be."
"Yeah," Ed forced himself not to fidget uncomfortably. "I get the drift."
"Good." That was Riza, all business when it came to work. "Watch your backs, read the files, destroy them when you've memorized everything in them you need to know, and report in when you arrive and get a feel for the situation. We need to know what's really going on up on the border."
Ed understood what she meant. He got the feeling Mustang would have preferred to go up there himself and "handle it" like any good State Alchemist, but he was limited by his position. There were things even the head of the military could not get away with and keep his job.
Ed, on the other hand, was not hindered in that way. Sure, he was a General but really, Roy was sending the Fullmetal Alchemist on this mission, not General Elric. Mustang obviously wasn't expecting this to be a complicated military engagement. If Ed could figure out how to keep this from turning into all-out war, then it would be in everyone's best interest. As much as he wasn't a diplomat, apparently even Mustang recognized his ability for getting things done and effecting change. He thought fast, and he could absorb and analyze complicated situations quickly. He could also be counted on not to do anything that might spark an international incident... oddly enough.
"We'll be careful," Ed replied, smiling at Riza. "Just don't let anybody get shot in the back while we're gone."
Riza patted her side. Ah, armed under the jacket, of course. "It's covered as always." Her expression softened again momentarily. "Take care, Edward; Alphonse. We'd really like you both back in one piece."
"Well on that we agree," Ed replied.
"We'll be careful," Al grinned, having the audacity to give Riza a quick hug. "And I'll make sure my brother doesn't do anything foolish."
Riza hugged him back briefly, then stepped back, smirking. "Why do you think we're sending you along?"
Ed shook his head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. We should get going if we're going to be ready by tomorrow morning."
Al nodded, and Riza said nothing else as they turned and left. Once they were alone in the hall again, Al looked over at him. "So, what are you going to tell Winry?"
It was a question that haunted him all the way home. Ed and Al split paths as soon as they exited Headquarters, Ed heading for the apartment while Al headed back to the place he'd been sharing with a couple of friends. It was still only midafternoon, but Winry wasn't working on a weekend, so he knew she'd be waiting, and wanting to know what this was all about.
When Ed got home, he noticed the Winry was downstairs, puttering around in her shop anyway. He couldn't help but smile, though the feeling of love was bittersweet. He didn't disturb her; instead, he slipped upstairs with the packet of information in hand. He poured himself a drink and sat down, opening the envelope and reading.
It was bad.
It was almost certain that this "discussion" about trade rights and tariffs, border patrols and the actual delineation of the border in places was almost certainly a cover for a likely invasion. Drachmans were not the easily forgiving sort. Of course, with their harsh natural climate and the need to survive, Ed couldn't say that really surprised him.
The rumors of Drachman Alchemists, or at least one, involved with their military were almost certain, though no one had seen an alchemist and lived, so it was hard to say. The Drachmans were denying any involvement in any violent actions along Amestrian borders.
Ed's objective was to try and keep this from becoming a war, by stealth or by diplomacy. Failing that, to keep Drachma from taking Fort Briggs and marching into Amestris. If he ran into enemy Alchemists...well, that would be a different matter of strategy. Alchemists were not to be used to kill soldiers in this war; that much was clear. They weren't destructive weapons; they were defensive. Ed could deal with that.
The part he found most interesting was the bit where Roy told him that he was the exception, if it became necessary to deal with enemy alchemists directly. He could make the decision then as to who would get involved in a direct alchemist on alchemist confrontation. But he was the only General who could make that decision.
That was a heavy burden. Ed picked up his glass and emptied it.
"What's wrong, Ed?"
He turned, and spotted Winry standing in the doorway.
"Wrong?" he blinked, and managed a lop-sided smile.
Winry frowned. "Don't play dumb, Edward Elric. You don't drink in the middle of the afternoon unless there's trouble."
Wha? Ed looked down, and only then realized that what he had poured was wine. He sighed. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." He corked the bottle and put it away, rinsing the empty glass and filling it with water. He didn't need the alcohol affecting him today; not with all the things he needed to do before he left.
"It's bad." Winry didn't phrase it as a question as she walked over to the table, and looked down at the papers.
"You don't want to read those," Ed interrupted, coming back over quickly. "It's... well the less you know of what's in there, the better."
Wrong thing to say. Winry glared at him, her expression setting stubbornly. "Oh nice. You get secret orders and I don't get to know what's happening?"
"It's not that," Ed sighed. He really didn't want to fight with her. Lately, he found himself tromping on his own temper a lot, trying not to lose it when she got temperamental. "That's just not the stuff I can tell you. It's classified details for the most part." He tried to take her hand, and frowned when she pulled back. "Give me a second and I'll tell you what I can! You think I like this?" he snapped.
Winry stepped up into his face. "I don't know. You didn't used to have a problem with it when it suited you."
"I was trying to keep from hurting you!" Ed retorted. Damn it. He didn't want this! He just...he shut his eyes and forced himself down. "I'm trying to tell you now. So will you shut up and listen!" he bellowed as loudly as he could.
Winry's mouth was already open to retort, but nothing came out.
Ed took a deep breath, and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said first. "But give me a second before you jump down my throat, all right?" he opened his eyes and looked back up at her. "I leave for Fort Briggs tomorrow morning, early."
Winry's eyes widened; her lip trembled.
Ed pushed on, hoping to get it all out while he could. "Al and I are supposed to try and keep this mess with Drachma from escalating."
He felt terrible as Winry looked away.
"I don't know how long we'll be up there. As long as it takes, obviously. There are rumors they have alchemists working for them. Winry... please say something." Her silence was getting to him.
Winry looked back up at him, eyes blazing. "How inconsiderate," she snipped.
"What?" Ed frowned. "I-"
"I can't believe this!" Winry ran right over him. "How could Roy send you off so quickly before I even get a chance to change out your auto-mail?"
"My... what for?" Ed looked at her, just confused now. "This will do," he tapped his existing auto-mail arm, which was fully exposed in short sleeves. He didn't have to worry so much about hiding it now. The public was convinced that he'd lost his limbs in some great battle, or during the Ishval war when he was younger. It was a myth they had propagated for years. Only a very few people knew the truth.
Winry rolled her eyes. "You are so dense sometimes, Ed. It's cold on the Northern Border. What is this made of," she knocked on his arm.
"Steel. I..." Ed paused and considered this for a moment. Even in the summer, metal attached to skin, and steel in the cold... "That's not a good combination."
"You think? You need cold-weather auto-mail or you'll have to worry about your joints freezing up, or frost-bite where it touches skin. It's a lot lighter, and a little less durable, but it's what you'll want in that environment."
"Can't I get it up there?" Ed asked.
Winry started to tear up, and Ed realized he'd said something wrong again. What was it this time? She was glaring at the same time though. "You think I'm going to let just anybody attach my work?"
"You've got some ready... for me?" Ed was nonplused.
"Don't I always?" Winry retorted. "I suppose this means I'll be fitting a lot of soldiers with cold weather auto-mail if things don't go well."
Ed nodded. "Yeah. Good for business though," he tried a smile again, hoping to lessen the blow. The entire situation stank.
"Lousy for us." Winry wasn't biting. She looked at him a moment, then they both fell into each other's arms.
"I promise I'll be home as soon as I can," Ed spoke softly into her ear. "I just hate leaving you with all this. Right when we're moving, and the baby and..."
"And we still have a few months," Winry squeezed him tighter. "If we're lucky, it won't take nearly that long."
Ed hoped that would happen but, somehow, he doubted it. "Whatever happens, I promise I'll be there when the baby's born." It was a promise he fully intended to keep.
"Good," Winry replied, half-smiling. "Then I don't have to tell you to be careful, for once."
"That's a first," Ed stepped back, much as he hated to. "Well, we've still got this evening. What do you want to do?"
Winry sighed. "You mean after you've gotten packed and I have your auto-mail the way I want it?"
"Yes, after that," Ed replied. "Even if the auto-mail takes half the night, perfectionist that you are."
Winry smiled. "Then I want to spend as much of it with you as possible. I don't really care what we do as long as it's together."
"As long as it doesn't involve any more fighting or getting knocked around, I'm good with that," Ed couldn't help but smile back.
"Aww...and here I was hoping to work on my overhead swing," Winry pouted.
He laughed suddenly, and pulled her close again, but gently. He could feel her stomach pressed against him; so strange and wonderful at the same time. "I love you, Winry."
September 16, 1926
The night went all too quickly and, by five o'clock, Ed found himself sitting on a train across from Al, looking out the window and wishing Winry was there to see them off. She'd been awake to see him out the door, but drowsy. No one was supposed to know they'd gone already until they were at Fort Briggs if possible.
It was nice to have gotten the heartfelt goodbyes done in private. Still, Ed wasn't really looking forward to this trip. Despite his promises that it would be short, he was sure it would be longer than he wanted. He shifted uneasily; the train was uncomfortable this morning. Warm, though he had clothes packed to deal with the northern chill when they arrived. It didn't help that he was still feeling sensitive in the arm and leg from when Winry had attached his new auto-mail before bed last night. It had been a fitful night of bad dreams and sore aches, though Winry had curled up next to him through it all.
"It's going to be hard."
Ed looked at Al, who had a sympathetic expression on his face. He managed a smile. "Yeah. Let's get this over with in record time, all right? Shove it in the "Colonel's" face." He still referred to Mustang as the Colonel when he and Al were talking in public. No one ever picked up on who they were really talking about.
Al laughed. "Same old, Ed. I like that idea." He looked out the window then, as the train began to move.
Ed watched his brother, and felt an odd sensation of déjà vu. They had traveled together on so many trains. Only then, he had only dreamed of having his brother's real body sitting across from him. Still, these were not circumstances he had ever foreseen. Even after a year, he was still adjusting to the fact that they were both State Alchemists now, and what that meant under a new era. Like all alchemists, Al had a 'title' now as well. It was simple, but effective; and Ed could appreciate the irony in the title Mustang had given his brother; the True Soul Alchemist. It fit his abilities, and his very nature. And...
"Brother, what are you thinking?" Al was looking at him now.
Ed grinned, allowing a little of the cocky confidence of younger days to come through. "Here we go again."