Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews! This chapter's a little slow, but I needed some filler time for the story to seem complete. Enjoy!
Chapter Ten: Lanfan Samples Automail
After a couple of weeks, the boat had docked in Xing.
Ling was met with suspicious stares and meek greetings. Lanfan was given no acknowledgment at all, until she reached Yao Manor.
Her mother emerged from the guard's quarters, her eyes widening at the sight of her disfigured daughter. "Lanfan!" She buried her in a hug, tears springing to her eyes. "Child…."
Lanfan's mother was fairly beautiful; her looks aging like fine wine. Her hair was tied in a tight bun, like her daughter's, and was streaked with gray. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned to bow at the prince.
"Lanfan…. Your grandfather…." Swallowing hard, she started to weep. "He has passed."
Lanfan was shocked at this news. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows disappearing behind her scraggly bangs. "What!?"
Instead of scolding her informal language, she simply sighed. "He was killed by a creature in Amestris. In the letter, I think he called it a… homunculus."
Ling patted the retired guard's shoulder. "I am sorry for your loss, madam."
Lanfan's mother looked up at Ling in surprise. "Thank you, Great Prince!" Turning to Lanfan, she dabbed at her tears with a corner of a handkerchief she had pulled from the pocket of her apron. "We will discuss funeral matters later, Child. Now, we must tend to that arm!"
Ling spoke for her. "She had lost it in a battle with the creature that killed your father-in-law. I will be taking her to the imperial blacksmith so that she can have an artificial arm fixed for her."
She nodded. "While you are recovering, together we can plan the funeral, and wedding."
Ling looked at the woman, curious. "Excuse me, did you say 'wedding'?"
Lanfan stepped in front of her mother. "A contract was set up so that in the event of my grandfather's debt, I'd be married off to a guard from another clan."
Ling nodded, frowning slightly. "Oh. So, let's get going then!"
After a bath and meal for both of them, Ling hauled Lanfan off by her only arm, commandeering a carriage and setting off down the rickety dirt road to the imperial palace.
"Married, huh?" Ling asked, breaking the palpable silence.
She nodded. "I've never met him before. I was instructed to wait outside while the contract was made."
"Why do you have to get married anyway?"
She sighed, anxious to get the automail surgery. "My clan is diminishing in number. With the death of my grandfather, it only emphasizes the need for more heirs to be… er …conceived."
Ling flushed. The thought of Lanfan being touched by another man was angering. "Oh."
Lanfan could sense her master's distress. "Oh look, we're here."
The imperial palace was a sight to behold. Thick, bright red walls rose up around the palace grounds. Each shrub was tended to carefully, as if a single branch out of place would ruin the entire image. Servant women roamed the palace, their faces painted beautifully in broad, sweeping strokes of black and pink. Lanfan felt a pang of annoyance when Ling's narrow eyes lingered on the one with the exceptionally large bust.
"Who are you?" A sentry asked at the gate, more to Lanfan than to Ling.
Ling stepped in front of Lanfan yet again, as if she couldn't speak for herself. "I am Prince Ling Yao, 12th Son of the Emperor. My companion is injured and we demand to be taken to the imperial blacksmith."
The sentry, realizing the visitor's status, rushed to bow. "I hope the prince and his consort are not displeased by our accommodations. Please, come in."
Lanfan coughed. Consort? She was definitely not married to the prince, and the sentry should've realized that from her clothing. But, she guessed, it wouldn't have been wise to argue with the prince.
Before she could correct the obviously rookie gatekeeper, Ling had taken her off again, steering her across the gaping palace courtyard.
Ling laughed as the two made the long journey down the staircases to the blacksmith's quarters. "That guy thought we were married!"
Lanfan buried her face in her scarf. "I apologize…."
Ling clapped her on the back. "Don't sweat it too much. It would be an honor to be married to such a pretty girl. But of course, you are already taken, you sly fox."
Lanfan just buried her face deeper. "Young Master, please be quiet."
Ling, who was still laughing, at the fact that he got away with calling a woman "fox" for the first time and didn't get hit in the face. Knocking twice on the large ornate door, the two patiently waited for the blacksmith.
A slot in the door slid open, snake-like eyes peering through. "Yes?"
Ling repeated his request to the blacksmith.
The blacksmith laughed, his voice leathery. "I do not know this 'automail' of which you speak, Young Prince."
Ling, not intimidated by the experienced crafter, stood on his tiptoes to look the blacksmith right in the eye. "I happen to know that you dabble in prosthetics. I know an automail mechanic back west, and," he pulled a drawstring bag from his pocket jangling around its contents, "I have brought with me some special automail parts, premium in her country."
The blacksmith's eyes widened to a comical degree. "I can make an exception for such a clever prince."
The door swung open, and being dwarfed by its massive frame was an old man. Although his face was weather-beaten, his hands were nimble, his chest muscular through his low-cut uniform.
"I am Long Zhou. This is my grandniece Qiaolian," he said, gesturing to a girl, who was perched on a stool near the forge. Her face was covered in soot, but she didn't seem to mind. Under the light of the crackling fire, she was assembling what seemed to be a metal doll.
"Hi," Qiaolian muttered, fiddling with the doll's arms.
Lanfan liked the girl. Absorbed in her own work, she didn't give a care to the world happening around her. She used to be like that once, when she was a little girl throwing kunai in the courtyard.
Long Zhou hobbled over to the other side of the room, where he slid open a part of the floor, revealing a compartment filled with arms, legs, even torsos. "I've crafted a few, but it will take a while to get them ready for use, as well as prepping this dirt-ridden area for surgery. You may wait here. Converse with my grandniece. In the meantime, may I see those parts?"
Retrieving the silk bag from Ling, the blacksmith was left to his own devices. Ling and Lanfan pulled up identical stools to sit by the forge.
Qiaolian leaned forward on the stool, her bangs creating jagged shadows on her face. "I heard that back west there is a boy who has both an arm and a leg of prosthetics!"
Ling nodded. "Ah, Fullmetal. We met up with him in Central. He bought me lunch, even."
The girl turned to Lanfan, her eyes growing with interest. "You knew him? What was he like? I bet he was handsome. What kind of automail did he have?"
Lanfan blushed, half from the heat and half from the attention. "Well, yes, I knew him. He was impulsive and had the shortest… er… temper in Amestris. As for his automail, I'm not exactly sure. You'd have to ask him mechanic."
"Was he handsome?"
Lanfan, not having the heart to disappoint the infatuated girl or make an honest assessment of her comrade's appearance, only said, "Well, I suppose he was." Thinking of his golden hair and arrogant smile, she did suppose that Fullmetal was better than average looking, to say the least.
Ling felt the need to add, "But he's very short for his age." He inwardly grinned. Somewhere in Amestris, the alchemist was probably spewing smoke.
Qiaolian shrugged. "So am I. I'm 13." Both visitors were surprised, to say the least. She looked barely 11.
Long Zhou clapped his hands and the fire subsided. "Now, would you like a more feminine automail, or a guard's armor?" He held up two options. One was dainty, the fingers delicate like the ones on Lanfan's flesh arm. The other was well… terrifying. Spikes protruded from the knuckles, and had masculine, wiry hands.
"Well, you are getting married…." Ling pressed.
Long Zhou grinned, the sides of his eyes crinkling. "Every Xingese woman has a sharp edge, as does this automail." Pressing a button, a large blade swung from the light, dainty prosthetic.
Lanfan smiled. It had surprises, that automail did. Just like her. "I will choose the more willowy feature."
Long Zhou nodded. "And if you do not like it, we can always upgrade the one you are getting today. Now, do you have any experience with pain?"
Author's Note: There you have it. Qiaolian's a favorite character of mine, although she, like most minor female characters and real-life fangirls in general, was seduced by the Elric Charm. Poor Al never gets any of the love. Review if you love Al! Please, of course.