Alyvia watched as the man's black obsidian eyes widened to the size of gold coins in surprise. His breathing went from controlled, to shaky, until he desperately tore his gaze away to the shorter blonde woman by his side. Dammit, she'd have to get used to the fact that so many people thought she was dead. "It certainly has been a while." She said, trying to keep her voice from straining. She needed to be strong, especially around such an important knight and mage. He was so much taller than her though, and her ego and confidence was crushed like a bug under a peasant's shoe.
He was still speechless until the woman by his side spoke up. "Lady Alyvia, we all assumed the worst," She stuck a calloused hand out, her short blonde hair pulled up in a tight knot on the back of her neck. Was she Mustang's betrothed? As quickly as the thought came, she almost scoffed. Mustang wouldn't settle down until his life or position was threatened by it. This woman would be no exception.
Before Alyvia could shake her hand, the curtain to the back room and Alphonse appeared, in well-fitting dark clothes and a rested look on his face. "Good morning, Alphonse," She said, before the dark force of Sir Mustang pressed past her and entered without acceptance. She heard the woman sigh under her breath and smiled, unable to help herself. Maybe this woman really could be his betrothed; she certainly seemed to know his mannerisms well enough to be annoyed by them. As the other men and woman poured into the front of the meat shop, she noticed the sad gaze on the girl's face. She couldn't have been any older than her by a year or so, but she looked so much more depressed. Alyvia tucked her hands in the skirt Izumi had lent her, unable to question it for the moment. "It's already turning out to be a wonderful day," She said to the girl, nudging her softly with her elbow as she tried to break her from her trance. The dark haired girl smiled weakly and nodded before returning to a silent state, her shoulders slouched.
"Where's your brother?" Mustang's deep booming voice echoed through the front room as Alyvia left the shy girl's side and made her way to where Alphonse was standing. If she hadn't known Alphonse all that well, from the few weeks they had known each other, she would have easily thought he was afraid. Yet under the innocent shield he used to protect himself was a hardened soldier with thoughtful eyes, strategic and ready in case something was to arise. Alyvia stood beside him, chewing on the inside of her lip, spotting the gloves in Sir Mustang's hands. Of course he wore them here—his precious gloves were his most prized possession.
"He's still sleeping." Al said, crossing his arms. "We've been on the move for a good week or so." She spotted the dark haired girl come to stand beside the blond woman, while the others stood, waiting to pounce should something bad happen. She hadn't met them before, but then again, the last time she had even seen Sir Mustang, she had been no older than six, and he had been a studious but tempered student. There was a low grunt from the Iron Knight, snapping her train of thought into pieces. Alyvia doubted that Alphonse would attack them without Ed's help, doubted he would attack them at all. It went against his entire personality.
For a long, tense moment, silence filled the small shop before Mustang hung his head. "With the woman who is supposed to be dead?" He asked through his teeth, his jaw clenched. The blond woman touched his shoulder and almost instantly he relaxed. Alyvia noticed the cocoa brown of her eyes, uncommon with such rich blond hair. She seemed so familiar, and yet she was different at the same time. Maybe it was the shortened hair, but Alyvia felt as if she had met the woman at least once in the span of her lifetime. Roy's hiss at the end of his words brought her out of her thoughts—she really should be paying more attention when the topic was of her—and Alphonse sighed in exhaustion. Even he looked tired, after two long days of rest. He needed just as much sleep as she did.
"There was no evidence that she was dead, am I correct?" Al asked, favoring one side of his legs to lean nearer to her, his protective manor smooth and calm, even in the presence of his superior. Alyvia cleared her throat, wishing he wouldn't stand so close. It was enough that she had to know that his intentions towards her were interested, but it was harder to face him when he openly showed it around guests. "She's alive and we were protecting her, like we were supposed to."
…Supposed too?
"What?" She questioned, glancing up at him in confusion. Both the Knight of Iron and Mustang visibly flinched, Al's eyes going wider than before while Roy groaned aloud; it must have been a very important secret, because they both looked as if they were to be lynched. Alyvia didn't realize how tight her hands were on her skirt until she heard the softest rip and she cursed allowed. "Dammit! Why isn't anyone telling me anything?" She shouted, glaring at two of them and the group of men behind Mustang. She knew she was a woman, and that it wasn't particularly her place to shout at men, but she had a right to know when things were going on behind her back about her.
"What's going on?" Edward's sleepy sounding voice called as he pushed the curtain away and spotted the disheveled group. His golden eyes instantly narrowed when he saw her and the others, especially Mustang. "What the hell do you want?" He grumbled under his breath, just audible for Alyvia to hear it. She would have smiled had she not been so vividly angry, to where she wanted to rip her apron into pieces and take the horse that the Elrics had stolen from the Devil's Nest and leave while she could. She didn't care if Edward constantly warned her about waiting for adventure to find her, she didn't care if he rotted in a hole and died. She hated them all. Alphonse, with his trying and strategic eyes that no one would ever think to hide his secrets. Edward with his sarcastic charm and idiotic sense of humor. Mustang for pestering them about her family's death and bringing up that damn sadness she thought had faded with Izumi's help. And that stupid dark haired girl for looking like she was about to cry for whatever damn reason. Did she lose her family? Did she feel the same pain Alyvia felt? She didn't care that she was being utterly selfish. She wanted Jon back; he was the only one who knew how she felt and who actually cared.
Alyvia didn't realize she was crying until the hot tears poured down her cheeks and the dark haired girl's hand was on her shoulder. Hurt, she ripped the hand off and stormed behind the curtain, into the room Izumi had loaned her and falling onto the bed that had been hers for on two days. Her body rippled with sobs; she was so stupid and selfish and if those stupid knights hadn't come into her life, would it have been any different? Would she have been married to Claude by now, under his watchful chestnut gaze, stuck with the thought of forever being stuck in a home where she was like a prisoner? Would she have felt it better or worse for herself even after her dreams of adventure had been crushed under his boot? Would her brother still be alive? The pillow was soaked with her tears by now, and there was no sign that she would stop any time soon.
She felt a hand on her shoulder once more and wanted to scream at whoever was there to back off, to leave and to never return, that she needed to cry and vent her frustration and depression out on the pillow, but trying to speak only made her voice crack in grief. The warmth of the hand was sincere; large, but not masculine. Her sobs ceased to anguished sniffles and she glanced up at the person who had tried comforting her to the best of her abilities. "It's okay," The dark haired girl whispered. "Crying is okay." The poor thing looked as if she wanted to cry herself, but wouldn't show any weakness behind a tight lipped façade. Her own blue eyes were filled with a certain grief, different from her own, but she still continued to smile anyways. "I'm Kaitlyn, by the way."
Alyvia tried to speak, but couldn't. Her shoulders were shaking too bad and when Kaitlyn offered her arms out, she fell into them, sobbing against the cloth on the girl's shoulder. She was shaking more than before, her sniffles turning to anguished shrieks. But the girl was right; crying made her feel better about the entire thing. Keeping her emotions bottled up was what was slowly killing her, tearing her from the inside and chewing its way to her brain until she was a puddle of emotions, lying dead in the middle of the pool.
After her crying spell was over, she not only felt emotionally drained, but physically at well. Kaitlyn had stayed with her until Mustang had come to the door and explained that he was going into town, and that she was willing to come if she wanted. Kaitlyn had politely accepted, but there was a hesitance in her voice, a restraint, before she stood and followed him out of the house. A while later, Izumi had brought her a mug of dark coffee, something her father had never let her have. It was warm, and made her feel a great amount better, and she enjoyed it quite a lot. She'd slept once she'd finished, exhausted from her early morning tears.
When she had awoken, the littlest man that had been with Mustang's squad was sitting beside the door with his nose buried into a book on secret codes. He was too deep in thought to notice she was awake until she asked him what his name was, to which he promptly replied, "Kain Fuery, milady," before returning to silence. The house was still quite, making her wonder just how long she had slept. Asking for Edward and Alphonse was awkward, but it had to be done. "Still in town, milady." Kain had answered, before the silence in the room was so palpable she could slice it into thin shreds with her brother's knife had she wanted to.
She'd kicked off the sheets and headed towards the kitchen. Breakfast had been ignored after her emotional state, and the only sustenance she had had was the thick coffee that had warmed her up and made her sniffles disappear. Izumi was cooking supper that looked like a feast for the multitude of guests she had (whom she didn't look too happy to receive, she noticed) and the scents of the finest meats and potatoes filled her nose. Her mouth watered as Izumi spotted her, a smile on her face, no less sympathetic than when they had first met. "Hungry?" She questioned.
Alyvia didn't even have to answer when Izumi handed her three slices of freshly sizzled bacon. She was thankful that the men were gone so that she didn't have to eat it slowly and precisely; she couldn't control her massive bites as the bacon scalded her tongue and left swelling little bumps in her mouth. She didn't care. She ate it hungrily, thankful for the warmth.
The loud steps of men filled the entrance of the shop as she finished her last piece of bacon, wiping off her hands on her apron and standing up straighter. The golden haired Knight of Darkness appeared with loafs of bread longer than his arms, setting them onto the counter where Izumi was cooking and giving his second mother a smile. His gaze met Alyvia's and, for a moment, the smile hesitated before he gave it to her weakly. There was another long tense moment as the others poured in, laughter ringing up as Sig helped carry in the rest of the supplies gathered in town. It seemed as if they'd had a good time, much to her surprise, as she sunk into a seat in the table. Fuery appeared from her room, looking positively exhausted, while the others settled into seats around the table.
Al sat down across from her, his smile drowsy but warm. It seemed as if he had had a good time (he looked much happier than he had before he left), his eyes on the food as Izumi began setting the table. Ed started walking towards the seat beside his brother as he tried to sit down before Al stood, the confusion instantaneously coming across his features. His younger brother pulled out a seat for Kaitlyn, Alyvia noticed with a small smirk, leaving Elric without a seat in his comfort zone.
It wouldn't have bothered her as much as it did when Edward found his spot beside her, settling in with a small scowl on his face. He looked tired, more tired than his brother did. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his movements were slow, reserved. He truly appeared as if he had been through a world of hurt for the past few weeks, all accented with a pink scar lingered just above his brow, hidden by his golden eyebrows. His golden eyes met hers and she nearly jumped, caught from staring. His scowl lifted for a minute before he turned away from the entire group and faced his plate.