The subtle lull of the horse clopping slowly against the cobblestone lifted her from her sleep, the exhaustion making her muscles throb the harder the horse moved. Rain pelted her face, leaving thin trails along the soot that covered her cheeks, the clouds dark as they mourned with her for her loss. Candlelight and the faintest hints of morning showed as the women of the town rushed to gather the materials, their gazes fresh, their smiles happy. They couldn't possibly know the truth behind her and her family's untimely death.
She didn't even know where they were. The knights had ridden through the black of night, their only guidance the stars in the sky. Alyvia had cried herself to sleep in Edward's arms as they rode, and when the rain came she wasn't sure how they had managed to ride with her not slipping off. It still poured from hefty grey clouds lingering in the sky, clouds that didn't look like they'd be moving onwards anytime soon. Her head spun as she caught sight of the solemnness in his golden eyes, as if he wanted to fix her pain but couldn't. He could fix a lot of things, she presumed, but a broken heart couldn't be one of them.
"Brother," Alphonse said from beside them on his horse. Alyvia didn't even have the energy to move her head to look at him. "An inn is up ahead. Should we stop?" Even the knights looked absolutely diminished of all hope; Alphonse wore a tight lipped solemn frown with his brother was much more revealing. Her fingers tightened around the scarlet red cloak, still draped over her after the rescue from the castle. Her mind rushed back instantly as she thought of the terrible sight of the scarlet blood that coated her brother's torso, his green eyes open wide. She prayed he'd caught sight of his foul murderer.
There was a low rumble of thunder and Edward grumbled incoherently under his breath. "Yeah, I guess. I would have liked to have made more headway to the Capitol by now, but…." He glanced between her and Alphonse before settling his gaze back on her. There was a moment of tension as she desperately wanted to say something, say that they could continue riding, but her jaw was slack and her mind was dead. He grunted again as they forced their horses to go faster, riding towards whatever inn they'd decided on.
There were stable boys, which made her heart pitch in despair. Had Claude been so cruel that he'd slit the throats of children? Had he tried to recruit them to help kill her family or had he murdered them the minute they refused? Alyvia wanted to be sick, desperately wanted to heave anything that was left in her stomach, but she hadn't eaten anything since the day prior. Her hands no longer shook from the lack of food; instead, a dull, empty weakness lingered in the pit of her chest. She flinched as the Knight of Fullmetal slid off of his horse with her still cradled in the curve of his arms. "Al," He ordered, watching the younger man run over. The thunder rumbled again, and the mud puddles all around them caused Alphonse to slip in his boots slightly. Still, he managed to move to meet her, taking her from Edward and pressing her face against his chest.
The rain began to fall harder, the late summer storm having exploded into full passion so early in the morning. From the corner of her eye she saw Edward helping the stable boys with the two King's horses, patting the nose of his beloved. She whimpered softly at the thought of her Temptress, lying dead against the stable floor with her long black hair decorated with flowers like the stable boys used to do. She wanted more than anything to rush back to her home and lay in the soaking wet mud as she
stroked the coarse fur of her horse, slowly until she fell asleep by her beloved animal.
As Alphonse pushed into the inn, heat suddenly invaded her sopping wet body. Eyes from working men eating their Sunday breakfasts, the innkeepers shuffling to clean up the messes the hardy men made. Heads were turned in curiosity towards the unlikely pair—a sopping wet girl in the arms of a King's Knight. Silence came over the entire room before one man stood, taller than the rest. "I'm afraid you'll have to go. Knights of the King aren't welcome here." He was bulky, with long grey hair and thick sideburns. His face seemed to be permanently in a frown, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth thicker than the ones he would have were he to smile. His left hand was firmly on a thick hammer like the one her father used to carry around in his days during the war of Ishval.
Alphonse set her down daintily, making sure she didn't waver. "Please," He said, his most honest voice showing through his vulnerable state. Alyvia wanted to beg for safe passing, but she was still too weak and the smell of stench and food mixing was making her stomach roll like a tornado in the summer. She leaned desperately against Alphonse. "We're weak from travel, and she's sick."
"She?" One of the men at the same table as the tall man asked, his black hair spiked and his nose a much more prominent feature. His grin was almost skeptical and slightly worried at the thought that she was a girl traveling with a knight. "Better tell the boss then," His arm tightened around the shoulders of a young, short haired blonde woman beside him, her legs crossed simply as two large, red tattoos marked her face and shoulders. Silence had fallen over the entire group as they stared at her and Alphonse. Alyvia was shaking in her boots, literally, from the cold and fear. Her body was going numb from the lack of heat and food.
The door opened and out slithered a bulky man. He tilted his head at the side of them standing in his doorway. He hardly looked interested at the Iron Knight, yet his gaze lingered on her for more than enough seconds. A menacing grin exactly like that she'd seen on Claude spread across his face as she slinked into the side of Alphonse, desperately wishing for them to all ignore her vulnerable state and his stupid gaze. For a minute, he looked as if he would turn Alphonse away and only accept her, but the loud shriek of the door and the thick clump of boots and his smile faded. "Nonsense," He said as Edward came to stand beside them, his voice pushing through his teeth. "We'll gladly accept knights with a lady in tow."
The man with his arm around the girl's shoulders whined, "But Gree—"
"Nonsense," The man, who Alyvia assumed was their boss, shot him a look with black as obsidian eyes. The tension held tight against the crowd as the group who'd been eating their Sunday breakfast stared him down, but she knew they wouldn't bite the hand that fed them. Their throats were on a rope as they waited for him to continue. "Martel, you're a girl. Take care of our lady guest. Roa, Dol, fix the knights their own room." His smile returned, a cocky smirk as the blonde girl took her hand, smiling almost warmly at her. Alyvia glanced away from her caramel eyes to look at Edward. His lips were tight, his golden gaze meeting hers hesitantly. Before she could question it, the girl dragged her away from them.
As she passed the boss, he grinned at her. "Welcome to the Devil's Nest, girl." His voice, though filled with greeting, also screamed at her that she should be cautious. Once more she glanced back at Edward and Alphonse as the two he'd called Roa and Dol took them by the arms. Alphonse looked as if he were holding his breath in prayer, while Edward looked ready to snap. His hand was on his sword, his brows narrowed, until she managed to catch his eyes as Martel dragged her up the stairs. He almost instantly stopped moving, and she would have seen the retaliation had she not been forced up the steps.
Martel undressed her, tugging off the leather clothes without hesitation and throwing them into a bin. As she tried tossing the scarlet cloak away, Alyvia snatched out and grabbed it. "No." She nearly hissed, holding it close to her chest. The blonde girl tilted her head, confused, before simply rolling her eyes and snatching it from Alyvia to put it on a small bed in the corner of the bedroom.
"So you really are a girl," She said as she helped her into the steaming tub of water. Alyvia smirked weakly, nodding as the water soothed her sore muscles, trying not to fall asleep in the tub and drown herself. Martel smiled at her, handing her a bar of soap that had an almost plain scent. "You're not from around here, are you?" She asked as she saw Alyvia sheepishly running the soap over her hands.
"No." She said simply, before using the soap to scrub off the soot and mud that clung to her body. The feeling in her toes slowly started returning to her, her hands unclenching from their aching fists. Martel smiled as she moved towards the bed where the red cloak and her knife rested. She tilted her head once more, her long and nimble limbs moving to pick up the branded knife. Alyvia flinched as her caramel eyes widened at the sigil, staring at her with shock before nearly falling to the ground. She'd seen the Catalina insignia and expected the truth.
"Lady Alyvia?" She asked, her eyes wide with confusion. Alyvia shrugged softly, her stomach growling as she ran her fingers through her already damp hair. The heat around her made her feel like she was floating in the middle of the stars, the peace as Martel set down her weapon of choice invading her mind. She rubbed her arms with the bar of soap once more, trying not to fall asleep once more. She needed to see if Ed—such a simpler name, and he technically wasn't her guest anymore—and Alphonse were okay. And she needed food; the empty pit in her stomach was growing old.
As she got out of the heat, Martel handed her clothes that fit her almost too well. They were loose and comfortable, and most importantly warm. Martel hadn't spoken another word since she'd found out the truth behind Alyvia's past, except for a polite "Sorry," after accidently bumping into her. Alyvia smiled softly at the thought that they still didn't know about her father and brothers as they walked down the stairs. She knew that one day someone would find out the secret that happened at the castle, but today she couldn't be bothered to think about what would happen after the figured out she was missing. The smell of midmorning lunch swirled around her as she entered the dining room. There, she saw Roa and Dol and an untimely looking fellow with an almost green pigment tinted to his skin. He had ugly age spots and an even larger nose than the Dol.
Ed and Alphonse weren't there.
After seeing how the men had reacted the minute they'd come into the door, she prayed they'd been smart enough to let their differences go. This was a group of bandits; maybe they didn't fight like the group that had nearly attacked her, but these outcasts, this mix of such strange people, were a group of undesirables. She stayed close with Martel as the young woman grabbed a loaf of bread and cinnamon, as well as burnt bacon and a glass of what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice. She wondered why they were being so nice to her and not her knights, but she honestly couldn't think and process with her mind on her stomach. Martel set her down at the table with the rest of the silent men, their gazes on Alyvia like she was the devil herself, come to settle in their nest of women.
As she nearly engulfed the food with quick, unladylike bites, Martel spoke up. Dol had his large arm around her again and looked as if he was claiming territory, his eyes fierce. "You're not to harm this one, you two. She's royalty." Not anymore, she thought as the three men (she presumed the green tinted man was male) at the table glanced at her with utter shock. "And you're not to speak about this to Greed. He'll cut our throats if he finds out we're harboring royalty, or the fact that she's the richest in the North, other than those blasted Armstrongs. Think of what this could bring to the Devil's Nest. He'll have our heads for sure."
"You call him Greed?" She asked as she tore of a piece of the bread, her stomach protesting as she continued to stuff her face full of food. She knew they'd had odd names—Roa mostly, she knew of many farmers calling their cows by that name—but Greed was one she'd assumed a bit strange. He wasn't really the most appealing of them either; his cocky demeanor was something she figured he'd gained from control over the four people sitting around the table. The large man twice her size turned to face her, his hand as big as her head. He still had a firm grip on his hammer made of chiseled steel, embroidered with designs. His grey eyes narrowed.
"He's called Greed because he's greedy." His voice was deeper than anything she had ever heard. That and his size made her want to shrink into her seat in fear but she was frozen. "He wants everything. He wants to be the king of the world. He wants the riches your royal family have, plus millions more."
"He wants women to be on his lap all the night and all the day, but he won't disrespect 'em." Dol took over from his much larger friend's speech. Alyvia looked at him, confused as he pressed his lips to Martel's ear. She elbowed him in the stomach and he yelped like a puppy whose tail had been stepped on. She glanced at her plate and grumbled softly at the emptiness, and her stomach groaned, being stretched after a day without food. She wrapped her arms around her torso in disgust.
The familiar clunking of boots came into the dining room as she glanced up from the plate. Both Edward and Alphonse looked much cleaner and relaxed. Alphonse looked tired, his eyes drooping lower and lower on his face. Her brow rose softly as she glanced at him, confused. She could have sworn Roa and Dol were going to hurt them for their knighthood, but they looked the same other than the exhaustion washing over them. Thick purple towels were wrapped around their necks, their blonde and golden hair shimmering in the candlelight. "Food," Edward said, walking towards the bar where the food was. Alyvia smiled softly.
She realized she still hadn't mourned the death of her family, that she was ignoring it by the present. She was too tired to cry and she didn't want to associate the scarlet blood with the color of Edward's cloak. Her fingers tightened around the clothes Martel had given her as the knights sat down beside her. Alphonse gave her a warm smile while his brother stuffed her face. She hardly knew them; she hardly knew their past or their present. But she wanted to know them. She was afraid that she would be left behind in the dust and once again that dream of adventure would be rudely ripped away from her.
Edward's golden gaze met hers as he tore off a piece of bread. And he smiled, warm, lazy, and drawled. But the fact was that he smiled. And she didn't hesitate to smile back.