Me: Chapter THREE!
Danny: Oh, glorious day!
Me: Meh, sorry for the late update guys. You know the drill – homework, job, all that. I managed to squeeze this out before tomorrow, though, when I'll be trailing halfway across the country to Birmingham MCM to meet Vic Mignogna and Aaron Dismuke. Nice of them to come to the UK :3. Then it's the Easter Holidays. Hopefully that'll leave me with a ton of writing time, so you all should be expecting a MUCH sooner update. Until then, here's 3295 words that you've probably come here just specifically to read. Oh and, a disclaimer:
DISCLAIMER: If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, why would I be here, writing FANFICTION? FANfiction. FAN. I am a FAN. Yes, is that clear now? All the characters belong to Hiromou Arakawa, I just thought up the plot :3
A New Way to Bleed, Chapter 3
The blunt sound of a car horn rung through the approaching evening as Gracia Hughes switched on the engine and plugged in her seatbelt.
"Come on, Elysia, we have to go - your bag's already out here packed for you!" she called out the window to her daughter, "I need to take this dress to the cleaner's on our way too!"
"Coming, Mum!"
Elysia quickly picked out a handbag from by her bedroom door and shoved her purse into it, zipping it up after. She ran down the stairs and across the hall awkwardly, as one of her sandals still weren't done up properly. Her coat was on the floor by the front door where she had left it earlier when she had gone outside to feed her rabbit, so she grabbed it during her rush outside, locking the door behind her.
The radio was playing as the eighteen-year-old sat in the other front seat of the car, buckling herself in and putting her bag between her knees. The one she had decided on was a deep shade of crimson.
"What's with the second bag?" her mother asked her as they pulled out of the drive.
"Just wanted to look nice," Elysia replied, tying her hair up, but leaving a few pale brown strands at the front hanging down to line her heart-shaped face. "I am babysitting the Fuhrer's son, you know."
Elysia saw her mother smile as they drove along the street. She knew full well that Gracia was proud of her, and she liked that. Their bond was close, being the only two people in the house since the death of Maes, her father. But that was when she was only three. That meant that her memories of him were few and far between, and they were hazy ones, too.
Because she was so young at the time, she didn't really have a grasp on the idea of death. It was a term that had only once or twice been brought into her life, when Gracia had been talking on the phone to one of her friends or when Maes had come home and told his wife what he had had to deal with at work. She didn't truly understand the word until the day of her father's funeral, and even then it seemed like he was just on a long trip away. She hadn't helped the situation that day, either, saying things like 'why are they putting dirt on Daddy? He said he had work to do, and he can't do that if they cover him with dirt.'
The clearest memory of that time had been Gracia's tears.
She had cried too, of course, but only because everyone else was. Apparently, even General Mustang had cried, and everyone knew that that was something you definitely would not see everyday.
The person who greeted them at the door once they arrived was the none other than the Fuhrer's husband himself, General Miles. He was dressed formally in a sleek black suit, complete with a blood-red tie that matched his eyes. His white hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and his sideburns were trimmed neatly into a pointed shape.
"Good evening," he said, a small smile appearing on his face as he recognised his visitors, "Olivier is still getting ready, come in Elysia." Miles turned to Gracia, "are you staying?"
"No, sir," the woman held up the dress she was carrying, "I have a few errands to run and the shops are closing soon."
"Very well, then," he replied as Elysia made her way through the door, "we will be back late, so I hope Elysia's told you she's been invited to stay the night? It seems like she's brought the things one would need for an overnight visit."
"Yes, she has," Gracia replied. "In fact, I packed it for her," she added, "it was a bit of a rush getting out on time today – her flute lesson over-run again."
"Well I'm sorry you were so hurried getting out here," Miles apologised, "it's not often me and Olivier will go out together, and a few visitors are still here from earlier today so we've been busy. It has, in fact, been a bit of rush for us too."
After an exchange of some goodbyes Gracia got back in her car and soon was driving out into the street, away from the Fuhrer's mansion.
The sky was almost completely dark now, most stars already beginning to appear to prepare for the coming night. The air was chilly, and although it was early spring, the previous winter had been a long one.
"Let's get inside out of this cold, then, Elysia," the girl heard to man next to her say.
She didn't really know what to make of the general. When she usually went to look after to look after the Fuhrer's son, Thomas, Olivier or a servant would be most likely to answer the door. She'd rarely actually seen the half-Ishbalan, so she had no idea what his true character was really like.
He led her down the large hall and into the first main room on the left. A young boy was sitting on the rug, sliding a toy car back and forth around his knees. He had red eyes like his father, but Thomas Armstrong had inherited both his mother's pale blonde hair and surname.
The five-year-old looked up with huge eyes as she stepped inside. "Hello, Elysia!" he jumped up, clearly glad to see her, "what are you doing here?"
"She's looking after you while your mother and I go out, Thomas," Miles went up to his son and picked him up, putting him on his shoulders.
But Elysia could still tell from the infrequent amount of times she had seen the Fuhrer's husband he cared deeply for his only child – Olivier had definitely refused to have more than one kid – and that, according to her mother who had known him for a long time, brought out the fatherly side in him.
It was unfair to think so, but Elysia generally assumed that everyone higher up in the military didn't really have that kind of affection. It seemed to her that they were all tough, hard soldiers with their hearts and souls in their jobs, prepared to die for their country if it came to that.
General Miles had proved her wrong on more than one occasion, though. Even now, he was sitting with his boy back down on the rug again, helping him build a tower out of wooden blocks.
"Come and play with us, Elysia!" Thomas looked over to the girl, who was still standing in the doorway, politely holding her bags.
Miles looked at her too and then got up hastily, adjusting his tie and clearing his throat.
"Sorry, I forgot about the bags," Miles said and called for a servant to take them, "you know kids, they want all the attention."
Elysia laughed in agreement and smiled at Thomas, who was still sitting on the floor with his cars and tower, making little sound effects to go with his game. She handed her luggage to a maid, who took her coat also and hung it up by the door.
"It's his birthday soon, too," Miles said as they walked back into the room, "next week on Friday."
"I'm gonna be six!" Thomas said happily.
After a moment she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and Elysia turned round to see Fuhrer President Olivier Mira Armstrong, clothed in a long black dress that went all the way down to the floor. It hadn't occurred to her that it was something a woman of her stature would normally wear, being so threatening. She didn't really look like the head of the country anymore – just a slim, blonde woman with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.
Behind her was another woman Elysia recognised – a kind older lady named Mrs. Bradley. She had her coat on, like she was ready to leave.
The boy beside her was very familiar, too. Selim Bradley was his name, and she had known him virtually all her life. For reasons unknown to both of them, the Fuhrer liked to see him often, and with Elysia's own mother's relationship to the military being the wife of the late Brigadier General Maes Hughes, their lives had crossed over many times. She was three years older and much taller than him, but they were great friends. She'd often seen him walking around school during lunch, but they usually hung out at the Fuhrer's house where they met most often.
But today, though, he seemed a little distracted. His purple eyes had lost their child-like shine and had heavy bags underneath. His position was more slouched, with a small frown seemed to be glued onto his face. He said nothing, and before Elysia could speak, Armstrong stepped forward to greet her.
"Thank you again for looking after Thomas, Miss Hughes," her voice sounded as commanding and imposing as ever, despite the feminine outfit.
Like always, Elysia wasn't really sure just how formally to address the older woman, so she did a hasty salute – something that seemed respectable and polite enough. "A pleasure, sir," she replied.
"Likewise," she smiled – something Elysia wasn't sure she was quite comfortable with, "it's a good thing to know I can trust someone to look after my son. Are you ready, Miles?" the Fuhrer looked up at her husband.
"Indeed," he replied, giving his son a quick goodbye hug.
"We should be leaving too, then," she heard Mrs Bradley say.
As Elysia followed them all out into the hallway, Thomas clinging onto her right hand, she kept glancing hopefully down at Selim, who was on her other side. He was soundless, refusing to look up from the floor and his feet were trailing along the ground. He was definitely ill, Elysia knew that for sure, and that worried her. But she knew that he was strong, and she trusted him to get over whatever was causing him trouble.
The maid opened the front door again to reveal the cold late evening and soon, the Fuhrer and her husband were stepping into their own car, along with Mrs Bradley and Selim, who they had offered to drop home. Elysia frowned slightly at the fact she hadn't had a chance acknowledge the younger boy, let alone ask him what was wrong.
And just as quickly she had arrived, they had left, leaving her in silence with just the maid (who she had after time come to know as Elizabeth) and the young Armstrong for company. Deciding it was the best place to go, Elysia headed back to the front room with them trailing behind her.
"What would you like to do tonight then, Thomas?" she tried to put Selim out of her mind and asked the boy her usual question.
The blonde thought for a moment, then put down his toy car on the rug and beamed. "Hide and seek!" he said happily.
Elysia frowned for a second time. Was she even allowed to let him do that? It had never been brought up before. The house was massive – it could probably hold a whole… pent-a-something of soldiers. What if Thomas fell and hurt himself? He would be so far away from her that she wouldn't know about it.
"How about I hide with him?" Elizabeth offered, obviously thinking the same as her, "I won't get in his way. It'll just be to make sure he's safe."
Thomas looked up at his babysitter hopefully, a huge winning grin on his face that people often found hard to turn down. How could he possibly be related to the Fuhrer? She thought, The only thing they share is their hair colour, nothing else.
"Fine," she decided, "but be careful, OK?"
Thomas' smile grew even wider as she answered, "but don't hide too far away. Dinner should be in about… Elizabeth?"
"It's in half an hour," the maid answered.
"Exactly – not long, so-" Elysia began, but Thomas had already left the room, shouting "count to one hundred, Elysia!" Elizabeth breathlessly trailed behind, calling for him to slow down.
He's such a handful, she sighed, but it's really hard not to love him. Even though she was eighteen – technically an adult, she would definitely not be having children for a long time.
Exhaling heavily, she sat down on one of the nearby sofas and counted in her head to one hundred. It didn't take her long, but the time she had finished their footsteps had faded and the house was quiet once again.
Yawning (it had been a long day), Elysia stood up and walked out into the hall again. She had seen Thomas turn left, which was only logical, as the entrance to the mansion was the only thing on the right.
The passage seemed to go on forever. There were paintings hung on the walls, which all featured past heads of the Armstrong family, dating back to as much as a few hundred years. As she walked along, Elysia noticed that every single one shared the distinct pale blonde hair and piercing blue eyes traditional to the line for generations. And just like Olivier, they all had a commanding and imposing air to them.
At the end of the hall was a painting of the Fuhrer herself – the first head of the Armstrong family and Fuhrer to be female. After reading the date engraved in a gold plate, Elysia worked out that it was painted about seven years ago, just after she had become Fuhrer. That was shortly following Grumman's assassination. General Mustang was too busy with the Ishbalan Recovery Development to take the old man's place, so she had stepped up the take the important role as head of Amestris and the state military.
A new type of government had also been formed along with her succession, with a democracy merged into the higher up of the military, allowing public vote for a lot of significant decisions. Elysia had no idea why it wasn't just like that before in the first place, but she was glad it was that way now.
The only Armstrong besides Oliver and her son who actually lived in Amestris was Alex, a lieutenant general in second command up in the north, with Miles as the head. Olivier was in charge of Briggs beforehand, but after her promotion she had reluctantly agreed to let her younger brother take her place.
The rest of the family had taken up residence in the country of Xing that was just beyond the east desert, after being sent there thirteen years ago by Olivier for a break. They enjoyed the culture out there so much that they decided to simply not return.
Because of Olivier's status in Amestris, the family members in Xing had close connections with the emperor, Ling Yao. He was rather young to be ruling such a large, rich and powerful country – the second biggest behind Drachma – in Elysia's opinion. He was only twenty-eight. But he had apparently given something to his late father, the previous emperor, which had confirmed his place as leader. It must have been of extreme value, as Ling was only the twelfth son, meaning what it was needed to be of enough worth to bypass eleven other perfectly capable princes and princesses.
Elysia was left with the decision of either going left or right again, so she just randomly chose right, heading towards the east wing of the house. This one was where the bedrooms were, although she didn't know whose was whose. Her knowledge of this house was very small, with her only ever being in Thomas's room, one of the seven bathrooms, the kitchen and the front room. She had barely even brushed what things were inside the house. Apparently, there was a whole library about the size of the one in the heart of Central that only State Alchemists could go into.
The main kitchen was situated in the west wing, so it was still silent. Elysia groaned inwardly when she suddenly realised just how much searching she actually had to do before she found Thomas, or at least until dinner anyway. She enjoyed babysitting the boy, but a game like this was just too tiring for her. With exams at school, her final flute assessment revision and a part-time job taking up most of her free time, playing hide-and-seek with a five year old at seven o'clock in the evening and currently no dinner was something she really didn't want to do.
Now she'd cut down the amount of rooms to search to half of the house, looking for Thomas would hopefully be slightly easier. But still there were probably fifty or more that needed to be checked. She quickly remembered the way to Thomas' room and headed down the hall, still surrounded by family paintings.
Elysia had been inside numerous times, so she had a good idea of where the hiding spots were. The room was painted white, with two walls covered in pale blue wallpaper. Toys were scattered around the floor – the maids would most likely clear them up during dinner.
She looked around the room. From first glance, it seemed like no one was in there. And after some searching in the wardrobe, under the bed, in the toy chest and everywhere else she could possibly think of, that was confirmed. Thomas and Elizabeth were hiding somewhere else.
Elysia groaned again. What now? She'd really hoped that they'd be in here.
Making sure she shut the door behind her, the brown-haired girl walked back out into the hall and took the next door along. If I'm going to check all the rooms, she thought to herself, I'd better do it in some kind of order.
This next room was much, much neater than Thomas', with everything in its right place. The floor was spotless, no sharp objects to be accidently trodden on. A double four-poster bed lay in the centre against the wall, and the curtains were drawn. There were photos hung up all around the wall – not paintings this time. Snapshots of Olivier, Thomas and Miles were the most common, but a lot of them seemed to be taken up North in Fort Briggs.
With a jolt Elysia realised that this was the Fuhrer's room, and she almost turned round and headed to the door. But she noticed some lines that seemed to be scratched into the wallpaper, with some hinges barely visible on one side.
It's one of those secret doors! Thomas has to be hiding in there.
Tip-toeing towards the newly-discovered door as not to alert the boy and his maid to her presence, she put her hands on it and gave it a shove. It opened silently on well-oiled hinges to reveal a dark room, in which Elysia quickly found the light switch.
The bulb flickered on, revealing the room's contents. A bathroom.
What's the point of hiding a bathroom like that? Elysia frowned. That was pointless. It looked regularly used, too. The shower curtains were pulled back, revealing what was the only sensible place to hide. Unsurprisingly, no one was there.
She left the room and then the Fuhrer's room still left with the task of finding Thomas. Her watch told her that she still had twenty minutes, which was twenty more than she wanted, to be honest. She would much rather watch a movie with the young Armstrong, or help him build a tower out of bricks again.
Glowering, she exhaled heavily and walked down the hall for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, to continue her search for the Fuhrer's son.
Danny: And that's that!
Me: Hope you enjoyed this one, guys! This time, I'll leave you all with a trivia question which'll hopefully keep your FMA-obsessed brains ticking:
In what order did the homunculi die? Starting from first, to last.
Danny: Good luck with that one, it's a hard question to cheat on.
Me: Leave your answer in a review! And no copying others! Bye guys, and thanks so much for reading and reviewing, it means a LOT to me :3