"We could go visit Dublith while we're near." Al's eyes were lowered to the paper, his brow focused furiously on the map that the fire mage had given them before their departure from the Capitol. Ed noticed that whenever his brother was studying the map that he was more concentrated, more stoic. It was a war plan and though his brother didn't support warfare in the slightest bit, he loved strategy and making plans that would gain them the upper hand. Whenever they were constantly moving, his younger brother struggled to deal with the fact that their plans were always scattered (Edward's favorite method of attack, to be completely honest). "We could visit Mrs. Curtis and her husband."
"We're supposed to be back in Central by now, Al. We got sidetracked three different times." He left the spot by the table and walked to his bed, kicking off his boots in seconds. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion as he fell to the feather bed they'd given him to sleep in. His legs were sore from the drastic periods of riding and carrying Lady Alyvia all the way to the inn. He hadn't slept in a three nights and it was taking its slow toll on his head. He wanted to sleep more than he wanted to argue with his younger brother on places to visit before their untimely death by that bastard of a fire mage.
He yawned and buried his head under the pillow as his younger brother continued. "It would easily be a day's ride to visit them. Plus, maybe we could leave Alyvia with them. She needs to regain her strength and who do we know better than Izumi to help her through her mourning?"
"No one, Al. Go to sleep." The heat from the fireplace pulsated through the room, a lull to help him into the soft drift of sleep. He needed this; he hadn't slept well after leaving the castle that housed the Catalinas for a week. The fourth night of his discomfort he'd convinced Al that something bad was going to happen—he'd felt it in his joints—and they'd spent that night and the entire following day to reach the castle.
When they'd gotten there, the night had already fallen and he had seen the flames from the tree line. He'd been so right, something he would usually brag that was an accomplishment against his brother, but this was devastating. The northern wing where he and his brother had stayed during their visit had already collapsed, the flames climbing up the walls like poison fingers searching for an entrance. It was e who'd first pushed his horse towards the burning walls while his brother tried to take in the picture, confusion spreading over him like the fire spreading over the granite stone.
The third night had been torture, absolute torture. He thought their luck couldn't get any worse as he had pushed his poor horse to the limit, trying to put as much distance between him and that foul murderer who'd they'd let into their home, an honored guest. He twisted his fingers against the sheets, nearly ripping them through the more he thought about it. He would run his sword through his belly twice before leaving him to die. He would cut the throat and let the blood spill against the lawn. And when he was sure the evil man was good and dead, he would cut off his head and stick it on a spike high above the crumbled castle walls, making sure that no one interfered or got on his bad side ever again.
The heat was getting harder to stand in his long night shirt Roa had given him. He was surprised at the hospitality of the Devil's Nest crew; they were well known bandits with a reputation that even the King knew. Maybe it was the fact that they'd had Lady Alyvia in tow. He thought back over the faces of the vivid personalities as he desperately tried to fall asleep. Martel the Snake had the personality of her surname, slithering, conniving, sneaky. Roa the Ox was that of great stance, with his burly figure that made Ed feel like he was five inches shorter than his actual height. Dolcetto the Dog was loyal to a fault and hyper like one—he was also very affectionate to the Snake at dinner time, gnawing on her ear like it was a fragile play toy. Bido the Lizard, the freak with the green tinted skin like that of his name, slithering and sneaky and gross as well.
There was a knock at the door, gentle raps against the wood. He blinked, listening to Alphonse's drawled footsteps as he opened the door to see their guest. "Alyvia?" He heard and instantly stiffened, yanking the pillow off of his head and propping himself up onto his elbows. Al was right; she stood at the opening of the door with her hands folded. A thin white dress accented her curves and arms, the lamplight accenting the shadows on her face, her hair pulled up in a very loose bun. He felt his brow raising in confusion at why she wasn't asleep so late in the night. "Come in." Al said, holding the door for her.
She glanced around the room until her gaze met his. Her green eyes were acute and vivid, like the fresh life of spring. For a long while they held him captive before she released him to watch his brother. "I'm sorry I came so late. I didn't mean to wake you if I did." Her fingers were shaking, he noticed, as she clung to the satin material of her dress. Al glanced between the two of them with eyes confused, before he smiled softly and turned to face her. His golden eyes flickered in the candlelight.
"Nonsense, you didn't wake us."
Alphonse Elric, I'm going to break your neck.
He pushed a smile past his teeth before laying his head back on the pillow. Alyvia cleared her throat—one he definitely heard, impatience and annoyance filling the grunt—before turning to his brother with a warm grin that reflected in firelight. Maybe if he hadn't been so distracted, he could have fallen asleep. Now that she was in their room with her stupid forced grins and stupid perky attitude and stupid pretty face—no, he was getting married after the war. He had to remember that. With much hesitation, he rolled over and ignored the heat that was wrapping its scaly fingers around him.
"I never thanked you for saving me." She was talking to Al, not him. So why did that bother him? He groaned grumpily into the featherbed, trying to ignore their petty conversation. She was a highborn lady and he was just a guy who'd gotten lucky in depressing ways. He wondered if he'd even made an impression on her. Not that he cared; she was so infuriating without even trying. The smile on her face that he could easily see past, the cold grin when she was being sarcastic. Green eyes filled with teasing and mischief and everything he didn't stand for. Yet, as infuriating as she was, he couldn't ignore the skip of his heart whenever she spoke, or how she'd smiled back after a long ride, after losing her family to a stupid murderer.
He hated life sometimes.
It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Winry, but it was such a forceful marriage that he wasn't sure if he could deal with the cold fact that he was going to be attached to her for the rest of his life. He wasn't someone who easily settled down—the need to roam was much more interesting than becoming Lord of Resembool and watching other people do his bidding while he set on a decorated throne. He liked Winry. He'd known her almost all of his life. But he didn't like her like that. He'd seen her slowly change from the tomboy he had crushed on as a child to the prim and clean lady who'd been dragged into the world of dresses and crowns and jewels.
"If it's that hard for you to say thank you, then maybe I don't want to hear it." Edward grumbled, trying to get the thought off of Winry. He needed sleep, but his insomnia and attention were getting the better of his mind. Al shot him an angry look, to which he countered with a lazy smirk. If Alyvia were going to get used to the outside world, she was going to have to get used to the sarcasm that echoed with it. He wasn't going to change himself to make her happy; that was what Al did, to treat a lady like a queen. "But, if you're not going to leave until you say your precious apology, go ahead." He rolled over onto his back and put his hands behind his head.
If green was the color of fire, he would be burning. The anger behind her eyes escalated the more and more she stared at him, her jaw clenched, and if she had something to throw at him, she probably would. But, no, her hands were balled in fists, clutching to the thin fabric that covered her legs the more and more her brow pinched in. Yep—he was an idiot. Sometimes it was worth it, but she had lost her family, and recently. She hadn't had the time like him that had lost the only thing that had kept the family together so long ago, to the point where he had become so blatantly grumpy and stoic that even his secrets were hidden in pockets of memory buried deep in his mind. He had replaced it by warfare and battle strategies.
"As I was saying, I was extremely thankful that you saved me from them. It's something I will carry with me for the rest of my life." Even her words were pressed, and she looked as if her barriers were about to break from stress and depression. Her expression was the same as that of the night he'd found her soaking wet from the storm, clinging to the only ounce of adventure she had left. "But as much in your debt as I already am, I have a favor to request from you."
"What is it?" Alphonse asked, obviously. He didn't even give her a chance to explain before he continued. "It is always an honor for a knight to complete a lady's wish." Edward almost gagged at the repetitive words his brother let spill past his lips, rolling his eyes. Even Alphonse was starting to get testy with him and Ed knew if he didn't sleep soon that it would only get worse. Not that he would care what they thought of him, but he didn't want a grumpy rider with him whenever they decided to leave the Devil's Nest.
"I want you to take me with you."
Even he jumped at the sound of her request, sitting up so quickly that his head spun in circles. "You can't—"He started before Alphonse shot him a silencing glare. His own brother looked like he couldn't conform to her request; not that he would. The plan for dropping her off with the Curtis' seemed like the best thing to keep her safe—if anything, Izumi could kill anyone who tried to get to her. The memory of the hurt in her eyes filled his mind once again and he cursed, wondering if this guilt was normal. He didn't want to just abandon her, no matter how annoying she was. Yet they were knights, knights with duties that required killing things for a living. It wasn't that he didn't want her to see that but so soon after her family's death would fill her with a vengeance that could get her in more trouble that she was worth.
"Alyvia, you have to realize that our duty to the King is—"
"I know what your duty is." She interrupted Al without hesitation. Edward's frown grew, his brows pinching inward at the thought of dragging her from encampment to encampment. It would require too much; she'd need a horse since her Temptress was gone, she'd need her own tent for living quarters, they'd need double the food they already had for both them and the horses…it was just too much work. If she had been male, it'd be a much different conversation. "I don't want to have to go on this adventure alone."
"So you'd rather us sacrifice our knighthood to escort you around the entire country just for you to go searching for your adventure?" He felt Alphonse's glare growing intense, but he was on too much of a tangent to care. His own blood was simmering with fury, his temper breaking. "What, are you ignoring the advice I gave you?"
"I did that and my family was murdered!"
"That's enough!" Al shouted, causing them to look at him, still boiling from their argument. "Lady Alyvia, I'm afraid my brother is a bit testy after staying awake for the past three nights. And I'm afraid we will have to discuss our methods before we can take your favor to heart. I'm sorry. But it's not something we can easily accept." His voice was gentle and kind and it only made Ed groan out of exasperation and roll back onto his stomach. He hated the constant reminder that his brother was a gentle caress to women while he was like a slap to the face. He buried his head into a pillow and wondered how long it would take to suffocate himself and if he would go unconscious to avoid this stupid mess.
There was a moment of silence before he heard her speak up again. "Thank you." She whispered, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room. He heard her footsteps through the thin walls as she made her way down. He could have sworn he heard her crying.
"You're an insensitive jerk sometimes, brother." Al said as his kicked off his boots and settled into the bed across the room. Ed shrugged. It wasn't insensitivity. It wasn't that he tried to be a jerk. It was he didn't like taking on too much at once. He didn't like taking care of someone other than his brother. And he didn't like that she was replacing his picture of Winry.