Ladyhawkeye Chapter 2
Roy stopped the horse for a moment, staring in the general direction where the deep ringing of church bells was coming from.
They had wandered back to the area near Amestris for the first time in years, the same tolling bells greeting them as before. A wave of loathing swelled within him at the thought of just who resided within the walls of Amestris.
He adjusted the dark hood of his cloak and then looked at the majestic hawk perched on his left arm.
"What do you think, Riza?" he murmured.
She shifted her weight, claws readjusting their grip and wings fluttering.
Though the hawk's eyes remained the same auburn color as Riza's they lacked the intelligent spark that he longed to see. Roy wasn't sure if it was better or worse that her spirit seemed to remain even though her awareness did not.
If her letters were to be believed he was the same way come nightfall.
Movement from one of the bags hanging on the horse's side caught his attention, a canine whine escaping the small passenger as Roy looked down at Hayate.
He had made the bag especially for carrying the young puppy and it had proved useful, soon he or Riza would have to adjust its size as the pup continued to grow. Roy tried to stop as often as possible to let Hayate run around and relieve himself, though the young dog seemed to sleep most of the time. Apparently it had taken to being a nocturnal sort of creature and Roy could hardly fault him for being so fond of Riza.
Roy, at least, got to speak with people on the rare occasion he chose to do so and if there was no risk of being recognized or reported to the authorities. But Riza was denied the luxury because her time came during the night.
Then there were their animal selves to consider.
While a hawk could be passed off as a wild pet a wolf most certainly could not.
It would take a half blind fool to mistake him for a dog. Riza fretted of letting him too close to areas that may have trappers, so they usually frequented less populated areas during the night if they could help it.
They had traveled anywhere that had even a whisper of rumor of magic, desperately searching for some type of solution and finding none. All the while they had to stay away from those who served that damn Bishop.
If her puppy helped to relieve even a fraction of Riza's solitude then Roy was glad for it.
Roy leaned down to scratch the shiba between the ears before continuing on his way.
He would have to set up camp and then when dusk came, for a few precious moments, he would see Riza before the night took him.
Even though he knew it to be impossible Roy wished that in those few breaths that her eyes would not be filled with such agonizing sorrow when their gazes met. He was sure, like in all things, he mirrored her. Riza probably shared his wish.
And with it, doubtlessly, she shared his futility.
"There's disturbing news, your grace," Kimblee announced once the one he was waiting for turned the corner. The title was said with a curl of amusement on his lips.
"Well?"
The dark haired bishop was expectant, extravert robes resting on his tall frame and amethyst eyes glinting with impatience. His dark colored hair contrasting with his white robes.
Kimblee's private amusement was short lived, he knew that he would get in trouble for the breach.
"One of the prisoners has escaped."
"No one ever escapes from the dungeons of Amestris, Kimblee." He spoke calmly, but his words were tinged with anger. "That is a fact." Clearly he was daring the knight captain to say otherwise,
Unfortunately Kimblee was forced to do so.
"The responsibility is mine," he managed to sound calm, though he clenched his jaw at the forced humility.
"Yes."
Of course the bishop would agree so readily, Kimblee thought with a spike of annoyance.
"It would be a miracle if he managed to get through the sewage system," the captain reported, pushing aside his anger for when he found the troublesome brat.
"I believe in miracles, Kimblee," the bishop reminded him dryly. He grinned smugly, laughter in his amethyst eyes. "It's part of the job."
The silence was a beat too long.
"At any rate he is but a small petty thief," Kimblee muttered. His pride stung, and he didn't like that there was one less body hanging from his gallows, but it was the truth.
"Great storms announce themselves with a simple breeze, Captain." A pause. "And a single random spark can ignite the fires of rebellion." That criticism seemed especially potent, an old traitor's ghost hanging off of the warning.
Their eyes met, Kimblee refusing to act submissive in the face of the bishop's anger.
Invideo may be the bishop but Kimblee was the one with a sword on his hip. The so called 'flame of rebellion' was a thorn in Kimblee's side, and the bishop knew it.
"If he's out there, my grace, I will find him," he assured him. "After all, it's my job to make sure society's scum is eliminated." A grin overtook his face as he spoke.
Despite the trouble the boy called Fullmetal had brought him Kimblee could not deny the rush of excitement the idea of hunting down a thief audacious enough to escape his prison. It was boring when they didn't put up a fight.
"Yes." It was more threat than disagreement.
The Bishop held out his hand, showcasing his ring.
Kimblee gave a sharp grin.
"Now, now Envy," he chided, speaking silkily as he allowed the man's alternate moniker escape his mouth. "Let's not get too bold."
Kimblee turned on his heel before he could be reprimanded for the disrespect. Envy, better known as the bishop Invideo, was not known for his tolerance. But the knight captain simply couldn't help but twist the knife.
"We will take ten men to the north!" Kimblee ordered.
"Whoever should find Elric will be rewarded!" he bellowed to his men, his horse trotting along agitatedly. "Even more so if you leave his death for my hands," he added in a quieter voice, but still loud enough to be heard. He wasn't concerned with injuries, they could hack off the boys legs for all he cared.
He had been captain long enough for them to know that.
"And the man who lets him escape will explain himself to me," he warned with a sharp look to each of the ten knights who would be following him on this excursion.
Jogging along through the chilly mist on the dirt path that ran along the forest Edward was panting.
Ignoring his burning muscles, especially his left leg, he urged himself to keep going.
"Come on, Fullmetal. Keep going…"
It was early the next morning and he could hear what sounded like howling wolves in the distance.
"Wolf?" he muttered to himself, looking in the general direction the sounds were coming from but continuing to stumble awkwardly along. "Please no wolves," he pleaded to no one, half resigned to his continuing chain of bad luck.
Edward was, in a word, freezing.
He cursed when he stumbled for what felt like the hundredth time. His feet ached with both cold and strain, and each bruise he had earned during both his capture and escape seemed to throb with renewed vengeance.
Wasn't cold supposed to numb you? Of course he wasn't that lucky. Instead it felt like the icy air was stabbing at his abused muscles.
His lips were chapped, the cold wind doing little to help. His hair still felt wet from his swim to freedom despite the fact that it had been almost an entire day. Between his watery escape and the snow he didn't expect his hair or clothes to dry completely anytime soon if he remained in the area.
His arms were crossed in an effort to conserve warmth, his fingers jammed desperately under his armpits. He was shivering constantly, his warm breath escaping in a puff of condensation that seemed to taunt him with its warmth.
"Where the hell am I?" Edward stopped to look around and try to find some kind of marker. He knew the general direction he had run in, and he could tell that he was in the mountains. There was snow on the ground and in the surrounding trees and the lake he was walking along appeared frozen.
The sun was beginning to rise, its rays already hitting the higher peaks of the mountains in the distance. He then decided to continue heading in the general direction of his planned destination. Eventually he would be able to find his way.
His left leg was killing him, the old wound protesting at both the horrible physical ordeal and the temperature.
Edward wasn't so much tripping as limping.
He would say that his calf felt as if it was on fire but he knew better. Hazy as the memory was he could recall what actual flames felt like and he had the scar to prove it.
Instead his calf simply felt as if the muscle itself was rebelling, the worst cramp imaginable compounded with a horrendous ache that seemed to travel all the way up his leg and deep as the marrow in his bones.
"What I would give for Granny's s-soup…" he muttered to himself, teeth chattering. His voice was raspy and tired, but speaking helped him focus his thoughts after a restless night.
He was starving. He had kept running throughout the majority of the night, sleeping in short intervals. He'd had no time to set any traps or hunt. Not that he even had the energy.
Edward was focused on getting the knights off his tail and getting back to Alphonse, Winry, and Pinako. His empty stomach and exhausted muscles could wait.
A full belly would mean very little if he was strung up by the neck because he had stopped.
Some time later Edward stumbled across a small village. One with people consumed by their daily business. They were not at all concerned with him as he eyed the clothes that were hanging dry or the shoes that had been thoughtfully set to the side.
Edward liked to say he was thief by necessity and not by trade.
But he was doubtlessly good at it, and it was severely necessary as he passed through the small village.
His clothes were threadbare and he had no shoes. If he didn't get proper clothing soon then he was going to save the knights the trouble of carrying out his death sentence and die from exposure.
With that thought in mind Edward skillfully pilfered what he needed in broad daylight.
The key was acting like you owned the place.
Naturally people avoided confrontation, especially troublesome ones that didn't concern them, so if someone who held their head high and strode confidently aroused suspicion it wasn't enough of a problem to deal with.
He wasn't hurting anyone and Edward made sure to steal from multiple people so that his thieving wouldn't hurt one person or family too much. His kindheartedness went unappreciated by his victims but that was to be expected.
Roy calmed the great black horse he was riding as it fidgeted beneath him.
He was outside of a village and he intended to stay and watch. He had seen a group of Knights searching the area and had hidden in the forest to avoid them but they hadn't been hunting for him and Riza.
They were looking for someone else and that interested him.
Besides, Roy had caught sight of that bastard Kimblee leading the search party and the exiled Knight Captain felt his heart jump with anticipation at the thought of crossing swords with him.
A hawk's gentle cry drew his attention and he automatically held up his arm for the majestic bird to land.
He felt the familiar weight of Riza on his forearm and checked her over, he could never resist doing so. Once she had gotten into a fight with what Roy could only assume was another bird of prey and had returned to him injured.
That was when they learned that unlike their minds their injuries could cross over forms.
She seemed to sense his mood, her feathers ruffling slightly.
"Kimblee is in that village," he told her softly, allowing his eyes to return to the area he had been watching before. Then he smiled. "You probably saw him and his men, I don't know why I'm telling you."
Of course she didn't respond but the sound of his voice smoothed out her feathers. And with her lack of urgency Roy could safely assume that there was little chance of an unfriendly threat somewhere beyond his line of sight.
Riza had warned him of such dangers before and he wondered just how often she flew simply to scout the area. Both wolves and hawks were territorial animals and he wondered how their rather nomadic lifestyle fit into that.
He was brought out of his musing when Riza turned her head sharply, beak opening and closing.
Roy turned to the same direction, anticipating whatever it was that had caught her attention.
He didn't have to wait long to see a lithe but bedraggled teenager making his way up the dirt path and heading in the same direction as Kimblee's men. The young man appeared to be limping, but it didn't affect his hurried pace.
Roy put thoughts of the boy aside for now.
He had a Knight Captain to keep an eye on.
Riza would probably write him a very angry letter on how reckless he was, but Roy was tired.
Tired of the curse, tired of running. If he and his beloved Riza were going to be consumed by the curse then Roy wanted to kill those who needed to be killed before that happened.
Riza didn't want him to, but Riza had always been the more leveled of the two of them.
With the curse leaving them both to fade deeper and deeper into their lonely solitude Roy could hardly feel the brush of her fingers as she reached out to hold him back from his hatred.
Edward found himself exactly where he needed to be. Somewhere that would sell him something to drink and eat.
There was a raised platform underneath an overhang with some type of plant growing on it, chickens contentedly meandering around it, and on the platform there were tables for the inn's patrons.
There appeared to be a few other costumers slouched in their seats and enjoying a drink but Edward paid no attention to them. Their ragged neutral toned robes were enough to tell him that they had nothing he needed or wanted.
"Innkeeper!" Edward called out, stepping onto the platform and taking a moment to relish the feeling of his new shoes.
The man looked up, grunting in acknowledgment.
"A pint of your finest," he ordered, allowing a cocky smile onto his face as he leaned onto the wooden table.
"Let me see your money first," the innkeeper responded, his voice low and gravelly.
Edward did so shaking the money bag and listening with satisfaction as the coins chinked together.
Edward was on a high. He had clothes and shoes, he wasn't freezing anymore, he had stolen some food earlier and was going to get more, and he had escaped the prison of Amestris.
To top off his good fortune he even had a very nice knife and an even nicer bag of money for his troubles.
"If you had stuck to the woods, you may have stood a chance, Elric."
Edward froze, his heart skipping a beat as ice flooded through his veins.
Slowly, as if he could delay the inevitable if he didn't move, Edward turned to face the superior and self satisfied sounding speaker.
As he feared there stood Knight Captain Kimblee with his deep blue eyes sharp with cruelty and mouth cutting a smile across his face.
Edward forced a smile, it felt too sharp on his lips. His heart thumped against his ribcage violently as he stepped backwards. He felt the edge of the table dig into his back and duly noted the sound of shuffling as the innkeeper moved away from him.
He watched as the people who had been slouched in their seats with the hoods of their deceptively drab robes hiding their faces stood up and took off their disguises. Knights.
Ten of them not counting Kimblee.
Fear curled within his ribs and pressed into his lungs.
"You're right," Edward agreed airily. His contradicting tone and thoughts only added to the surrealism he was experiencing. Was this really it? He had escaped an inescapable prison only to be found by pure dumb luck?
"Get him," the Knight Captain ordered curtly.
With those two words the knights and Edward were all spurred into sudden frenzied motion.
Edward wasn't going to die without making them work for it.
He had a brother to get home to.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review! I apologize for the time between updates. My update schedule will most likely be erratic, though hopefully there will be less time before the next chapter.