A/N: Morning, guys! Way too long time and no see! Sorry for the delay, it is highly frustrating to have a chapter done and not be able to post it because of network errors.
But who cares, here it is. It has many explainatory past flashes. I truly hope you'll enjoy it!
For warnings, swearing and violence. Lots of blood. Oh, and please don't hate me for the ending! Not that I regret it. *evil grin*
Don't forget to review/follow/favourite. Thank you for reading and now, on with the story!
Chapter 9 – Some Snow and Too Much Water
'What was that? Well, not my problem,' Edward thought as he pulled the silver watch out from his breast pocket. He opened the lid and gasped. 'Just look at the clock, Roy must be waiting for me at the restaurant already! Damn it, I'm so going to be late!'
Ed moved his left foot forward... and stopped abruptly. He started feeling uneasy. 'But what if there are any casualties? I might be late, but he'll lecture me for not doing anything... I mean I'm technically in the army, I should be helping... Not like I care, but... Screw it, I have to see what happened! And why it has felt like alchemy,' he decided.
Edward nearly fell a few times on his way to the explosion sight. He felt somehow weak, the strength in his feet gone. Why was he feeling like that? That was strange... Most likely the event occurred due to a gas leak or something similar... No, it had to be alchemy. No doubts there. The Earth's energy flow had been disrupted for a few seconds and he didn't know why.
He knew better than to freak out, but he still wasn't completely comfortable. He approached a fuming building - it looked like a deposit and it was not too far away from the Central Command. It could have been the military's, or it could have belonged to a factory, he wasn't sure of that. Ed made his way through the debris, careful not to touch anything. The many boxes inside were most likely full of gun powder or some sort of ammunition - it smelled heavily of them. Oddly enough, only a few boxes in the middle of the room had been destroyed by the fire, those around them hadn't even been touched.
'So it's some kind of localised fire?' the blond assumed. He looked at the burn marks on the floor, circling the charred boxes. Was it even possible to concentrate flames only in one place, when everything was covered in explosive material? He knew only one person who could do that, but he hoped he was wrong.
Ed continued to investigate the eerily smelling warehouse. It was well placed, the entrance hidden somewhere in the back of a remote alley. Quite strategic. Accidents could happen everywhere, but it was starting to look like it has been planned ahead.
He heard a grunt. A grunt of pain? Perhaps, it could have been anything, after all. He could hear metal clashing on metal. He widened his eyes and sharpened his ears, not to miss anything. The sound stopped abruptly. It was gone only for a moment until it's started again. It sounded like someone fell. Then, sparks began flying everywhere, followed by rhythmic snaps.
Edward hurried in the light's direction. It was clearly made by alchemy, flashes erupting before dissipating into the air. Red and blue coloured the darkness most sinisterly and bangs echoed throughout the room.
He picked up his pace. He felt like if he didn't speed up, if he didn't run as fast as he could, it would be the end of everything.
And then he suddenly stopped. Out of breath, Fullmetal backed off, holding tightly on his now injured shoulder. He tried to advance and something sharp cut his cheek. He touched his face, where blood was slowly creeping down to his chin.
"What the hell...?"
XXXXX
Thirty-eight years before, in a big city mansion
"Good Heavens, boys, what is with this mess?" the mother scolded and put her hands on her hips. The narrow closet looked like it has gone through a small revolution, brooms and cleaning supplies scattered all over the floor, shoe boxes full of chalk dust and papers. She looked at the two boys giggling on each other's shoulder, barely containing their laughter. On the floor was drawn an awkward looking circle, with some strange symbols inside.
"What have you two done in here?" She analysed the precise transmutation circle. In the middle of it, there was a small shining statuette of a horse, most probably made of ice. It shone brightly in the flickering light of a half-burnt candle. "Who did this?" she asked, rising a pale eyebrow.
"I only helped with the humidity calculations, just to speed things up, I promise! Mom, he is really good at it! See? He's so good, Mom!" the older child praised his brother, frantically gesturing towards the younger boy. Their mother looked at them with a great smile on her face.
"Well, that's not true, brother helped a lot, really!" the cadet tried to hide his achievement.
"Shut up, Ford, you are good at this! I mean, you are my brother, so duh! It must go into the family, right, Mom?" The oldest of the brothers was such a show-off.
The mother smiled at her boys. "I have the best children I could ask for, I'm so proud of you," she said and hugged them both. After letting go of them, she said soulfully, "Cenric, make sure you will help your brother with learning alchemy, maybe you learn some, too! Ah, my boys, you've made me so happy! Promise me you will show me how you evolve, yes?"
Telford blushed deeply. "Okay, Mom...," he agreed modestly and buried his head between his shoulders, getting red from their mother's praising.
Cenric wasn't one to lose the opportunity to jump to his brother's help, so he straightened his back and vowed solemnly, "It is my duty as the oldest of us, so don't you worry, Mom! I promise we are making a great alchemist out of Ford, just wait and see!"
Telford laughed drily, unsure of his skills. Cenric pulled his younger brother in his arms and hugged him tightly, ruffling his blond hair. Their mother grinned and looked again at the ice figurine. It wasn't melting - it remained frozen, despite the high temperature inside the closet.
She had such good children.
...
"Hey, Cen?" Telford called after his brother. "Thanks for helping me."
Cenric Mustang smiled and ruffled his younger brother's perfectly combed hair. "No problem, Ford. But, um... are you sure about this? Water alchemy? Isn't it a bit... you know, useless?"
The cadet absently ran his fingers through his hair and fixed the floor with his deep blue eyes. That complicated circle under his feet... he knew that was what he wanted to do. He could find some application to it. He would do something for the people of Amestris! He didn't know what exactly, but he would cook up some plan.
Telford smiled a little. He would enrol after graduating the military school, no wait – he would first join the academy. Well, the order did not matter. He was going to be great! His father would be so proud, to have a national alchemist in the family! Just a few more years, and his dream would come true!
"Yes, Cenric, I'm sure about it. I will find something useful do with it, I mean, water is part of us. But I need to understand the four elements before doing anything, you know. I will study them and become a state alchemist."
"Well, if that's what you want, I'm okay with it. I'll help if I can."
"Help with what?" a feminine voice asked.
"With nothing, Chris," Telford said without putting too much thought into it. Rising her eyebrows, the dark haired girl smacked her lips together. "Tsk, I overheard you, stupid, but luckily for you, I'm in. We're a team, right?"
Cenric looked at his younger sister, who was mindlessly playing with her long hair. Her eyes were determined, but they held a softness he could not put into words. She would make a great spy later, just like she wanted. Not that she had much of a choice - after all, it was their family's tradition to provide the state with well-trained spies. But he somehow wanted to do something different... maybe investigative work? He enjoyed reading his father's mystery books. Finding clues, linking facts together, chasing murderers - that was what he'd love to do, if he only could.
He would help Telford reach his goal, same as Telford promised to help him with his. Maybe he would become a detective like he's always wanted instead of having to learn how to kill people. He could get used to that, really, it would be a lofty and, dare he say, comfortable life.
"Ah, fine, thanks. I don't need that much help, 'cause, you know, I'm not stupid," the younger boy made and got a punch to the side from Cenric, who looked at their sister, waiting for her to say something.
"Sure, sure. Though we are still helping you. You know you won't be able to do anything without us," Chris said and playfully messed his sandy locks. She kissed his cheek and pinched it for good measure.
They were a family, and help is what families did. They were part of a very dysfunctional one, but who knew? Maybe they would make it work.
...
"Children! Come down here for a moment!" Mister Mustang called from the bottom of the staircase. He returned to the sitting room with a great smile. "Trust me, dear, you will love it in here. My wife will make sure you have everything you need, and I'm sure you'll get along with the children. You've already met Cen, and do not get him wrong, he normally isn't like you've seen him. He is actually quite a sweet lad if you get to know him. The other two are around your age, too, so I think you have the same interests. I think you'll make fast friends with my daughter, she's smart, like you."
"I can imagine that, Mister Mustang, though it doesn't matter, as long as you are this kind and allow me to live with your family. I am truly obliged and I will prove myself worthy of your help, I can assure you," the girl next to him thanked, bowing her head like she has learnt from her poor mother, back in Xing.
Her hair was tied up in a thick bun, a few strands falling into her rosy face. She was a flower by all means, ridiculously intelligent, beautiful as a painting and very versatile. Reginald Mustang was sure he would make a great person out of her. He found her fighting heartily with his oldest son after she's killed one of their targets, a whoremaster whom she worked for and tried to rape her. The foreign girl had it in her and, with some good old fashioned work, she could make a living from their profession. She would work alongside with his children, of whom he was so proud.
"Don't worry, child," he assured her and smiled gently. The three children descended from the upper floor of the house, running down the stairs, pushing each other and laughing loudly.
"CHILDREN! Don't run inside the house! Why do you never do this outside and you do it only inside?!" their mother scolded loudly. "Dammit!"
Like one, the children slowed down and shouted back an unconvincing "Sorry!" and then resumed their ruckus. The woman rolled her eyes and entered the living room with her unruly brats. She smiled at the girl - they have already gotten acquainted.
"So, why did you call us here?" Cenric asked, never wasting the opportunity to have the audience listening to him. "Oh," he made after realising that the one who bruised half of his abdomen was in the same room with him.
But damn, he thought, didn't she look good after a good scrubbing.
Well, it could be worth the shot. The oldest brother smiled charmingly and fluttered his eyelashes a little. "I apologise, we didn't get to talk! I am Cenric, pleased to meet you," he greeted, offering his hand like the social butterfly he was. The girl looked at it and then shook it delicately and gracefully, as she's learned to do with her former clients. Though it was the first time she did so outside a contract.
She searched his face for any trace of malice. He looked like a nice person in a better light than the whorehouse they've fought in. Handsome and brilliant. She might forgive him for breaking two of her ribs if he played his cards right.
Still leading the conversation, Cenric introduced his brother and sister. "Oh, but where are my manners? Please meet my brother, Telford, and my sister Chris. I believe you have already met our mother already."
"Yes, I did. Nice to meet you all... um-" she paused, looking a little lost in front of all those enthusiastic Amestrians. They looked like a humble family. If only on the outside, because the oldest of the Mustang children sure knew how to pack some good punches. Only Gods knew how bad the rest were.
"Oh, yes, I am Amaya," she added, frustrated that she didn't say her name earlier. However, not a smile faltered.
Yes, they were good people. She couldn't wait to talk to them and, oh - to start her training! It was going to be so great, she decided. They would be her family from then on. She would become a Mustang.
Even the weather was happy for her unexpected luck. It was so warm and so sunny outside.
It must have been fate that brought them together.
XXXXX
It was getting colder and colder in there.
Edward stared at his blood-stained hands. How could he be harmed in open air? Empty, open air? By what? Looking around, he couldn't see anyone or anything that could have possibly caused those injures. The warehouse was suspiciously quiet, but otherwise, nothing was out of place.
'Okay, maybe it's just my imagination.' Thinking of how his mind was playing tricks on him, Fullmetal straightened and stepped forward. He saw how a few strands of his bangs fell on the floor and he halted his movements again.
Narrowing his eyes, the alchemist realised he was surrounded by some sort of invisible threads, so sharp they cut everything that touched them. With a critical eye and clinical precision, he avoided moving too much and examined his surroundings. He had to be careful because he still needed his head and didn't want to have it cut by some stupid strings.
Another explosion shook the building, though that time it appeared to have come from the outside. 'Great, now I'm stuck in here like an idiot,' the blond cursed.
He lowered his gaze to his feet. Maybe he could reach the ground and transmute something that would cut his restraints. In lack of a better plan, he slowly kneeled, remaining as straight as he could. 'Easy, Edward, steady,' he reminded himself.
Within a few moments, his knees finally touched the ground. He awkwardly approached his hands together and slowly pressed them to the floor. Some large scissor-looking objects erected and twisted around him, breaking the strings. Warily, Edward moved forward, mindful that he didn't need other things cut off.
After searching the warehouse for any life signs, he decided to exit through a different door than the one he'd used to enter the deposit. The building had a backdoor and that's where he was headed. If he's heard it right, the previous noise had come from that direction.
He stepped gingerly on the wet floor. All around him, there were small puddles that by no means could be explained. All that water seemed to have appeared from nowhere, because there were no evident leaks from the ceiling, nor any visible trails that could have justified it. And most of all, because things were still burning, water should have started evaporating by then and the air should have been very humid, which was not.
'Whoever did this, they don't give a damn about physics laws.' Ed tried to get the better of the situation and failed at it. Right then, he started panicking. Could there be some Philosopher's Stones involved? Have they missed any?
Right by the door, there was a pile of wood that was surrounded by smoke. With that much water around, there shouldn't have been any flames left and it was inexplicably cold. Not sure what to expect, Edward pushed the door open with his automail leg and backed off a little.
Luckily, nothing popped up in front of him, so he advanced. The street looked surprisingly peaceful, no one passing by. The outside air was cool and quite moist –unlike in the depost-, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary, as it was the beginning of December.
Edward stepped forward, but he suddenly felt like he couldn't make his feet move anymore. He stood still, completely against his will. He looked down and saw his black boots were literally glued to the pavement. "Fuck, what now?" As he frantically lowered himself to get out of his shoes, something cold and sharp pocked at his neck. The young alchemist turned his head to see who was pointing that thing at him, which seemed to be an icicle.
"Who are y-" Edward stopped midway and his eyes widened. Hold on for a moment...
He remembered that face from somewhere -he's seen it in the photograph on Roy's desk. The man behind him looked so much like the one he's presumed to be his father.
But what he also recalled was that Mustang's parents were both dead.
And with that tiny detail, Edward started to see things more clearly. He hasn't seen any scars on the man from the picture. The man who immobilised him had large burn marks on half of his forehead, his right cheek and down his neck, and they appeared to continue under his clothes. Most of the scars were covered by greying sandy-blond hair which went a bit over his shoulders. It almost hurt to look into the deep blue eyes of the man, caging an inhuman desire of revenge within them. The same desire he once saw in Roy's eyes and he wished he would never see again.
With a wide grin, the man stated speaking in a low voice, clearly mocking him. But why would he mock Edward? No, it had to be someone else that he was addressing to. He was not talking to him. The man wasn't even looking at him. "It's almost funny how you all come to me and I don't even need to chase you around. Right, Blondie?" He shook Ed by the shoulder. "My, my, boy, you really have good eyes for such things, I give you that."
"Who the hell are you talking to?" Edward struggled inside the man's restrictive arms, but he couldn't move. It was like his entire body was frozen.
"You have no shame, do you?" echoed another voice. "Let go of him, did you forget you were fighting me?"
Edward gasped at Roy's sight. The man's dark overcoat was in pretty good shape, like the uniform underneath, a little burnt and torn around the edges, but otherwise fine. Looking better at him, he noticed that the 'dark' colours on his clothes were in fact made by clotted blood. His chest was painfully covered in crimson stains that appeared to have come from some nasty gashes. His aggressor was injured as well, and he was just as dirty as the General. He smelled of blood and smoke.
"No, I didn't," the other man answered, clearing his throat. He whiffed rudely. "But a little distraction always comes in hand, right, Roy? Well, that's what your father used to say, at the very least- but look what happened to him. Pf, pity."
Roy shivered with anger. He clenched his gloved fists, his jaw so tense he struggled to talk. "Don't you dare speak of him like that, you piece of shit! You have no fucking right!"
The blond man chuckled and mimicked clapping, though the firm grip on Edward didn't falter. His arms were ridiculously strong around his shoulders. "Oh my, seeing you getting so angry reminds me how good it's to have an angry prey. Chris, bless her soul, she must have told you about daddy, right? Did she tell you how nice and easy does flesh rip? It's quite beautiful, but what am I saying? You know that already, don't you, Roy, my- hmph, fiery boy?"
Roy's patience snapped at that. His aunt told him how the sociopath got his father's eye out and how he ripped off his mother's ankle with his bare hands, how he burnt them alive in their house. He remembered that sunny afternoon too, when Chris held him close to her chest and ran, crying as she squeezed him closer, not to see what was happening behind them. His uncle held Edward as a shield, smirking with those thin, tobacco-yellowed lips, and it made his blood boil with rage.
Looking straight at his lover, assuring him one last time that everything would be fine, Roy stepped forward with unexpected grace. He frowned, measuring his uncle's eyes. They were a few shades darker than normal, the pupils blown wide and rimmed with crimson red.
The younger Mustang cracked into a forced laughter and bowed, full of mockery. "Well, Uncle dearest, if you want flames that badly, then let there be flames," he made and snapped his fingers.
XXXXX
Thirty-three years before
"Father, please, no! NO! PLEASE! DON'T! FATHER, NO!" Telford begged after his leaving father. He screamed and pleaded, tears falling off his cheeks and invading his mouth. He felt bile pilling up in his throat, burning his throat from the inside. He fell to his knees, watching his life-long dream turning to ashes.
How could his father do that to him? It was all he's ever wanted to do! Alchemy could have come in handy in their profession, why couldn't he see it, not to mention he was darn good at it! He's even learnt how to make invisible strings of ice, how to solidify the atmospheric humidity and transmute it into flying projectiles. There were so many ways in which he could have used those abilities, he didn't know from where to start!
All that he wanted was to enter the army's national alchemists program and work under it. It was his only way out of that damned world of espionage in which he grew up and was supposed to die in. He would only provide help to his brother and sister, and be left alone the rest of the time. He would get his founding from the state and live a peaceful life. Why was his father crushing his hope? Why was he setting his work on fire?
He only wanted to live an ordinary life, without having to sleep with one eye open when he put his head on the pillow.
Telford Mustang stood still, wailing violently. His chest hurt. The smoke coming from the papers was black and heavy, but the flames were slowly dying, just like him. He had worked five long years to get that research done and then, right before his eyes, it has become a pile of dust. With those notebooks, he could have joined the military. It was his work for which he had sweated blood and tears. It was unfair.
"Hey, Ford, what's going on?" Cenric asked from the kitchen's window. He frowned. The well-kept lawn in front of the kitchen looked like the scene of a massacre. Quick to act, the older brother jumped out of the window and covered the burnt grass with a wet towel. "That should stop it. Now, tell me what the hell happened here, brother," he said patiently and smiled comfortingly. "Are you alright, Ford? Telford?"
Telford looked at him with sorrowful eyes. He searched his older brother's eyes for any indication of guilt, but there was none. Did he- no, he couldn't have. He had his doubts, but why would he...?
"Ford, I can't guess what's going on in your mind! Who did this? Was it- oh, fuck!" Cenric gasped. He wished it was not what he was thinking of.
Telford looked at him, trembling. "Cenric, just one thing... This morning, I saw you speaking with Father. What did you tell him?" the youngest asked with a glimpse of hope in his voice. He was definitely wrong in his assumption, his brother loved him. He would never tell their father about his plans.
"I told him you want to become a state alchemist. He could find you a teacher, you know, so you can take your studies to the next level. After that, he said he wanted to talk to you. But I don't understand why he was so angry when I told him..."
Telford stared at his brother with a look of pure hatred. So he had been right, Cenric has betrayed him. "How could you? How dare you... How- I trusted you!"
Cenric lifted his eyebrows. What was he talking about? "Excuse me?"
"You- YOU! How could you do this to me?"
"Hey, take it easy, brother, I didn't mean any harm! I would never do you any wrong!" Cenric lifted his hands up, trying to show his innocence. 'What's the matter with him?' he asked himself, startled by the acrid glint in Telford's eyes.
"You know he would never let me study alchemy! I told you to keep it secret! I fucking told you, Cenric!"
"Yeah, but I tried to convince him and-"
"And nothing! You didn't listen to me! You promised! YOU FUCKING PROMISED, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Telford yelled at his brother. Their father hated all alchemists because his own parents - their grandparents - were killed by one when he had been only ten. He didn't want his heirs to take that damned path and it infuriated him to see his child learn it in secret. Why wasn't he like his perfect older brother? Cenric was the embodiment of the ideal Mustang, all attitude, looks and smiles, not betraying one thought with those wide, easy grins he offered so readily. He understood that his destiny was to become the state's dog and kill, torture and do whatever the state commanded. He accepted his fate. His sister, too. And there he was, stupid little brother, trying to rewrite history like the idiot he proved himself to be.
Cenric scratched his head dumbly. He couldn't understand what he did so wrong. He merely wanted to help him get along better with their father. It was not that hard to tell that Telford and Mister Mustang were not overly fond of each other, but him, as the seemingly favourite son, could reinforce their fragile relationship. He only wanted to help.
Suddenly, the older son found himself on the pavement, far away from the soft grass. Thick liquid seeped from his face. Was that blood? He looked at his raging brother who was clenching his fists, his knuckles white from tension and rimmed with crimson.
Cenric couldn't believe it. He didn't feel any pain, as shocked as he was. "Did you just... punch me?" He rose from the ground and reached for Telford, hoping to calm him down. 'I can handle this,' he assured himself. He had to be patient and reasonable, because his brother would see logic in no time.
He extended his hand to pat the younger's shoulder, but his hand was slapped away. "Don't touch me! I HATE YOU, CENRIC, I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" Telford bellowed and ran away from him.
"What?" Cenric gaped. "Telford, for fuck's sake! TELFORD!" he shouted after his brother. "Fucking hell, Telford!"
Behind him, Amaya put her head on his shoulder. "I would ask what happened in here, but I guess it was some sort of barbeque?" she asked softly. "A barbeque gone wrong?"
"I don't know what happened either..." He turned and looked into the young woman's eyes. He caressed her face gently. "Amy, do you think I did something wrong? All I wanted was to help him, Father was so mad when I told him about Ford..."
"Well, some of us really don't need help, Cenric, but who knows? Maybe he will forgive you. After all, his knowledge is still there, in his head," she said and tapped against his forehead.
"Yes, maybe."
...
"Chris, pass me the other plates, please."
It was a bright Saturday, perfect for a wedding. Amaya and Cenric decided to marry that very day, mostly because it was summer and they both enjoyed the nice weather. At the moment, the bride was offering the plates of her special homemade cake and her baking skills were complimented by every guest. It was decided - she was the greatest baker in their little Eastern village.
Cenric was making conversation with everyone, being the heart of the party as usual. Laughing there, debating elsewhere, talking politics with those who were interested, but especially gossiping everywhere. He moved from one guest to the other, blabbering about everything and everyone. It was very amusing and entertaining for him as talking was one of his best skills. Sometimes, he cast a quick glance to his beautiful wife who was returning the looks with a hidden smirk and an all-knowing wink.
Cenric considered himself the luckiest man that has ever lived. He finally convinced the woman he was madly in love with to marry him and they had a very nice home together in a quiet village. They were able to work on their missions together and nothing seemed to go against them.
Their wedding had turned out to be a huge success. It had been that great that none of them noticed the jealous eyes with which Telford watched them. He's made peace with his brother for telling their father about his future plans. He understood that his brother only meant well, but Telford just couldn't get past the obvious fact that Amaya didn't choose him. He was sure he's conquered her heart, she was showing all the possible signs that he has indeed succeeded, she made him so many advances and he returned them, every single one of them, and when he's finally gathered the wits to ask for her hand he was told that she was going to marry his brother. His fucking perfect brother, Cenric the Greatest and Most Magnificent and Smartest and Most Handsome. Be damned.
Be damned!
It was so unfair, but he couldn't do anything. After all, he wanted his brother to be happy, but he was still only human. It hurt to see your love taken away, but who was he to do anything?
...
"Your brother is truly brave to go and take the state alchemist examination after all that happened," Amaya told her husband. After taking another sip of her tea, she added, "Or very dumb."
Cenric chuckled. "Well, I think he did it to go against Father. It was a great setback when he burnt his research. I am curious if he will make it into the military. He's got no training."
"He's a smart one, I don't see why not. Only if something goes wrong, it might be troubleso-", the woman stopped abruptly and put a hand over her slightly bulged belly. She opened her mouth in shock and then cracked it into a wide smile. "Oh, Good Lord!" she made surprised. Cenric stared at her - he didn't understand why her features changed from fear to ecstasy. Sensing his confused look, she took his hand and placed it over her stomach. She said breathlessly, "Can you- can you feel it?"
Cenric's face turned bright. His whole body trembled and he could not stop it. He looked in his wife's black eyes. "I... Oh, my flower," he muttered, smiling sheepishly. He rose from his chair and hugged her. "I am no flower, silly," she giggled and squeezed his back. "He is a hard kicker, our little brat. He's going to break many hearts."
Cenric let go of her a little uncertainly and asked, "He? You mean it is... it's a boy? We're having a boy?"
"No, silly, it's a girl, but I like calling her that." She poked his forehead. "Of course it's a boy, the doctor told me yesterday. The neighbour's wife was so excited, she said she's gonna marry her girl to him. She is a jester, that woman, and makes great coffee, but I cannot drink it now... neither can she, she is having a baby girl, isn't it cute?" Amaya explained. "They will be friends, I'm sure!" she said happily.
Cenric lifted his eyebrows and watched her intently. "How come even the neighbours know about its gender and I don't?" Amaya pondered for a few moments, right thumb playing with her lower lip. "Meant it as a surprise?" she offered.
"Sure, sure. Maybe next time you remember this is also my child, and not the neighbour's."
The Xingese woman laughed rudely. "Umm, who said so?" she teased.
"Amaya..." Cenric's face went stern.
"Sheesh, and I am supposed to be the one to have mood swings. Of course it's yours, idiot! Do you think that little of me?" She punched his arm lightly. He pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her hard. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks and whispered, "I wouldn't dare, my love."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. How should we call him? I want a strong name and completely Amestrian. I hate Xingese names, they are too soft and they usually are names of flowers or they mean some shit with a cackling rooster or squealing pig."
Cenric chuckled breathily. "Well, let's see... Arnold. That's a good name," he said. Amaya shook her head. He tried again. "Arthur? Daniel? Andrew? Marion? Um... Russell?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "Really, Cenric? Russell? How do you even come up with these names? They are so common!" she said, frowning.
"Fine, doll, then let's name him... Roy? You know, like a king? I cannot find anything grander. Unless you have something that means Emperor, 'cause I don't know anything like that."
Amaya considered it for a second and then nodded, extending her delicate hand that twisted so many necks and sealed so many pacts. This time, it was a vow in the favour of life.
"Deal," she said and they shook hands.
XXXXX
"Roy?... Roy! What are you doing? Wait!" Edward shouted. Roy snapped his fingers, thick flames forming from the tip of his reactive gloves and igniting the air around them. Ed's vision blurred and he couldn't see anything. Steam hit him hard over the face and he lost his balance. He felt himself falling and he hit something hard, most likely the ground. The alchemist closed his eyes, letting himself swoon into nothingness.
A few moments later, he was panting hard. The heat was gone, and only familiar warmth remained. Someone was caressing his arms. The blond snapped his eyes open and blinked a few times so he could make out the shapes. He was surrounded by thick smoke, but the air was still breathable. Barely, but not impossibly.
He tried to stand up, but he was pushed down. "Take it easy, there's no rush," a deep voice soothed him. Edward narrowed his eyes and scolded, "Are you mad, you bastard? Why the hell did you try to set me on fire?"
Roy cracked a smile. "Genius, why would I set you on fire? You forgot we practiced localised fire together? I needed to melt your restraints and to push that idiot away," he explained calmly. He kissed his lover's forehead and stroked it gently.
"Whatever... wait, Roy, who's that guy?"
"The love of my life," Mustang joked and helped him up.
"What?"
"No, really. Let's get ourselves a steak, shall we?" Roy smirked mischievously, his depthless pools sparkling dangerously. Ed eyed him warily. "Do you plan on... burning him?"
"Just a little," the Flame winked and took his hand into his.
XXXXX
A few minutes before, in a restaurant
"You should've seen his face! Priceless, tellin' ya," Jean Havoc spoke rapidly, voice cracking with amusement. In front of him, on the other side of their little circular table, Riza Hawkeye was laughing at his stories, which she found simply hilarious.
It took the former soldier quite some time to convince the serious Lieutenant to join him for dinner, but he managed to do it. He was actually proud of himself. It didn't have to mean much, but, knowing they were both lonely and bored, he thought it might be nice to spend some time together. Funnily enough, the diligent working officer was not as frightening as he thought she was. Without a gun in her hand, she actually seemed pretty lovely.
They were currently talking about some crazy experiences he had with Mustang during an old mission, when Riza happened to be bed-ridden with a terrible cold. "Why am I sick only when interesting things happen?" she asked, playing with her cocktail's straw.
"I don't know. Like to be shocked by the tales, maybe?" he suggested. She shook her head and chuckled some more. His presence was actually very enjoyable, why hasn't she noticed that until then?
What she did notice was that his shirt's breast pocket started buzzing. "Err... Jean?" He patted his chest and pulled out a small metallic box that was shaking by itself. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. "Riza, I'm so sorry that I hate to cut this short, 'cause I like talking to you, but we've gotta go" He waved his hand for the waiter.
She didn't ask any more questions because she was a good soldier. Pondering over that fact a little after being pulled out of the restaurant, she questioned, "What's going on? Why are we-!" she yanked her arm from his hand. "I want some explaining, and I want it now, Havoc." She was a soldier, alright, but she hated not knowing what was going on.
Seeing that she was on the verge of pulling out her gun, Jean started explaining as fast as he physically could. "That thing? That's a radio transmitter. It's connected to some special designed gloves I made for the General. Well, I made them with my sister, but anyway, he's supposed to wear them when he is in danger, so he can signal me that something is wrong."
"He- what? Why didn't I know about this?"
"Beats me, but we have to find where he- Ah, no need for that," Jean said and looked at the smoke that lifted from a distant building. "I guess he's that way."
XXXXX
Roy suddenly crouched, pulling Edward down with him. He rolled on the frozen ground and snapped his fingers at an unseen target. The response came quicker than expected. Something that looked like a huge icicle was thrown in his direction. He backed down, trying to avoid the many sharp strings that started popping up around him. He snapped his fingers a few more times.
He managed to sneak next to Ed, who was creating alchemical walls to restrain the aggressor. "Ed, go find Havoc. He should be here soon." Roy pushed the blond away and snapped his fingers once more in his uncle's direction. The man responded by exploding a hydrant that peacefully resided next to the warehouse. Hot water burst out and he redirected it to trap Roy.
"Damn, you are hard to catch," Telford said as some strings cut through the rough reactive cloth of his white gloves. They fell off in small pieces. "Okay, boyo, now you are harmless."
Roy fixed him with his black eyes. His long lost sibling was watching him with curious eyes, dark with hatred and pain. The General looked at him in the eye with the same emotions showing just as clearly. He pulled off what remained of his gloves and let them fall to the ground. He then burst into laughter, remembering of course not to move too much, as he didn't need his neck severed by some stupid ice strings.
Telford measured him from head to toe. "Why are you laughing, Roy?"
"Of how blind you can be," he said and snapped his bare fingers to melt his restrains.
Come on, it was like a child's play to finish him off, if only he could catch him. That was a major issue because his uncle was tremendously fast. Roy snapped aimlessly, hoping he would at least touch his target, who was clearly surprised by his act. Telford crystallised the water that surrounded him and made himself some sort of protection until he hid behind a fence, very conveniently placed. 'How the hell can he use alchemy without a circle?' he panicked inside his head.
Feeling again in charge of the situation, Roy advanced, continuing to snap his fingers in different directions. Not one to back down, the water alchemist created new strings. They threw with things at each other – Roy with fire balls, Telford with icicles. Why couldn't the elder make it rain - it would have been much easier.
Edward looked at the two men who were fighting ferociously. What really beat his imagination was the reason why no one, not even a curious citizen showed up. Not like he needed some more people to save, but it was still unusual. He supposed that no one in their right mind would approach a burning building, but usually military would pop up in such cases, or the firemen. Anyway, he could declare himself useless. Roy and the other alchemist were trying to kill each other and all he could do was to watch them. 'They are really strong,' he noticed. The nameless alchemist was pushing with precise blows, and so was Roy. He couldn't help but wonder why their movements had a very similar grace, like they had been trained by the same master.
"Damn it!" Roy shouted. He lost his footing and slipped on the thick ice that polished the ground. He fell down. He pushed his feet on the slippery surface and evaded a huge blast of water by mere inches. 'Okay, I need a new strategy,' he noted.
Roy clapped his hands like he has been taught by Ed and erected some false walls around himself and his uncle. Telford destroyed the warehouse's exterior wall, helped by the hydrostatic pressure and he got out of the trap. Roy followed him inside. 'Got you,' he thought proudly.
Roy snapped his fingers more precisely. He was aiming for his dear uncle, who was barely escaping his aggression. The raven haired alchemist definitely held the upper hand that time.
Knowing he would lose if he didn't act quickly, Telford made a wide gesture and covered the walls in thick layers of ice, polished enough that one could mirror himself in them. "Let us play a game, Roy!" he sang madly.
Roy was only seeing himself reflected in the artificial mirrors. He could not burn everything around him, he could very well destroy a pillar and determine the building to collapse, or worse. Getting himself killed wouldn't do nicely.
Instead of that, Roy continued moving in circles, changing directions constantly. He couldn't risk becoming a sure target. He finally caught a glimpse of Telford, who was closely following his arrhythmic movements. The General's actions became erratic, he was not completely sure he really saw the real man or just a reflection.
Telford suddenly got out of cover, in plain sight. Roy snapped his fingers.
XXXXX
Ten minutes before, outside the warehouse
Edward stood dumbfounded in the back alley. Roy simply pushed him away and disappeared into the smoke. That was it. He had to find Havoc, he said, but what good would that do? He didn't even know where he was!
He suddenly remembered that, for the past few weeks, Roy has been caring around a small package, which most likely contained some sort of tracking device. That had to be it, why else would he ask him to find Havoc?
Where was technology going those days, he wondered.
"Chief?" Speaking of the devil.
"How-"
"No need for this," Riza Hawkeye spoke, pushing the former soldier out of the way. "We need to get those two out of the deposit and restrain River."
"Huh?" Ed made. That guy again? So that was the man... Made sense, somehow.
"I've already told Hawkeye on our way here. The boss told me he might need some ignition gloves in case River, the guy he's been chasing for some time now, would appear. The guy is apparently some sort of terrorist and might want to destroy the entire capital. Not like the boss won't destroy it with snapping his fingers around, but we have the other to blame," Havoc explained and adjusted his woollen scarf. "Fuck, it's cold," he said and pulled off his gloves. "If things keep up like this, I'm gonna freeze my fingers off."
"Shut up and let's go!" Ed exploded and led the way. Looking at each other, Havoc and Hawkeye shrugged. They loaded the guns they always took with them and followed the alchemist.
They entered the thick smoke that surrounded the warehouse. Brushing his automail fingers on the walls, Ed found the way and guided the small crew on their path to the door. They found the artificial walls Roy had created and followed the lead to the entrance. They sneaked in, trying not to attract any attention, and it really was not that hard – Roy and Telford were playing some disturbed version of hide-and-seek. Dancing in the darkness of the warehouse, flashes of surreal light flickering like candles and then like reflectors. Edward's eyes hurt - there was so much light, and so sudden...
And then, it happened. It all fell down.
XXXXX
Twenty-seven years before, in a small country cottage
"Roy, for the love of it! Leave the poor curtain alone!" Amaya called after her son, who was swinging on her brand new curtain. She grabbed him up and took him to the kitchen with her, where she was baking a pie. "Mommy, but it was so much fun!" he pouted, making a silly face. She smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "Might be, little snake, but curtains are not made for this. They are made to prevent the sun from coming inside."
"Oh... But why the sun wants to..." Roy stuttered a bit and then started again, "Why does the sun want to enter?"
The mother looked proudly at her nearly three years old child, who has just corrected himself when he spoke. "Light enters everywhere and there is no reason why," she retorted, remembering she'd asked the very same question to her poor mother, so many years before.
The doorbell rang and Cenric made his way to the door. He was enjoying his day off with his wife and son, who were happily baking a pie together. Roy truly had a sense for cooking, he even made suggestions of what to put in the mixture. The boy didn't know the name of all the ingredients and those he knew, most of them he couldn't pronounce, but he guided himself by smell and taste. He knew what matched and what didn't. He definitely spent too much time with his aunt Chris, who was always talking about recipes, but the father couldn't complain.
Cenric opened the door to find a gloomy looking Telford. "Brother? What happened?"
"Come with me," he said simply.
"What?"
"I said come with me!" he yelled. Amaya came from the kitchen, closely followed by Roy. "Telford? What are you doing here? Why didn't you call? Where have you been all this time?" she asked sceptically. She clearly stated that he had no place in their house after they've gotten into a fight of fabulous proportions.
"Family business," he spat back, like she was not part of the family. She narrowed her eyes and then nodded. "Go, if you have to. But come back in one piece. I will not forgive you, Telford, if something happens to him," she threatened and left with her son, who was eyeing the two men suspiciously. The younger Mustang looked at the boy with sorrowful eyes. Roy was a very cute child, very intelligent and creative, easy to love. He would become such a great man, poor boy... Why did he have to be his brother's child? It felt unfair.
Outside, Cenric asked, "Why did you come here?"
"It is Father. He's in trouble."
"Father? How come?"
"Let's go, Cenric, we have no time," Telford stated and went to the car. They drove for a while, not even bothering to talk to each other. They stopped in front of an old mansion.
"Why are we here, Ford?" He looked at the huge house, very well kept. It was an old family friend's property, very well kept. "What are we-"
"Follow me, Cenric."
The hallway was a complete mess. The once neat and polished wooden floor was full of mud and the walls were dirty – dirty of blood. The trail continued to the living room, where the owner's body stood lifelessly, with a knife in his broad chest. Not too far away, a woman was crying.
Cenric ran to her - it was their mother. She was tightly holding her husband's hand, who was barely breathing. "No, Reggie, no...," she whispered darkly. He barely saw his sister who was clinging to his feet, face blank and staring hard. She was in deep pain and she was shivering.
The oldest brother fell to his knees. "Fa- Dad? Daddy, what... DAD!" he said hoarsely. He felt like he had been running for miles. "Oh, no..."
His father raised his hand and entwined it with his son's. "Cenric... it is not your fault, my son... please... never... never do this to family. You three, my children... you... you only have each other..."
The old man started to cough blood, his vision blurry and his chest rising unevenly. He drew his last breath in his wife's arms, to whom he said sorry for leaving her so soon.
Cenric stormed out of the building, covered in his father's blood. He really didn't care that he could be seen by anyone. It was his fault. He was the one who doubted the mansion's owner's loyalty. He was a friend and a fellow spy, he shouldn't have turned against them. He sent their father there alone, he told him there wouldn't be any problems... and there shouldn't have been, he was sure nothing could ever happen, that it was all his imagination!
"It's your fault," Telford said behind him. Cenric turned, looking at his brother with dead eyes.
"I didn't know, Ford, but you know I loved Father."
"It's your fault," he repeated. "It has always been. It's because of you that I couldn't practice my alchemy. It's because of you that they all hate me now. It's because of you that the woman I loved turned against me. It's because of you that Roy was born, when he shouldn't have. It's because of you that Father died. IT IS YOUR ENTIRE FAULT! YOURS!" he shouted, fists clenched dangerously and face red.
Cenric's eyes widened. Has he heard that correctly? His beloved brother hated him? He thought they were in better terms... True, Amaya was avoiding him, but he imagined they had had some small quarrel and didn't want to fight again. Telford loved his wife? How could he be so blind? Of course he hated him, but... When have things degenerated like that?
His brother spit on the ground and left abruptly. He was boiling with anger. When he was finally at peace with his father, whom he divinised, Cenric had to send him to an early grave. It has always been his fault, with all the bad luck he was.
Telford's perfect brother was a devil.
Cenric looked at his brother's silhouette, slowly fading in the scenery. He cast a last glance at his father through the window before leaving as well. His father was indeed dead, and it was all his fault.
XXXXX
It all flashed in front of his eyes. Havoc shooting River, his lover being hit in the abdomen by a water string, Riza hurrying to get them out and Roy looking at him like it was the last time he would see him- and then nothing.
Roy looked inside the collapsed building and fell to his knees desperately. He kneeled in the fresh snow that was falling inside, not caring about his wounds. They didn't hurt as much as his loss, his Edward who was currently in his tight embrace. He didn't feel anything besides scorching pain deep inside him, somewhere no one could heal him. In his heart.
How couldn't he see it before all of this... how? His uncle's plan has flawless, just like it had been when he killed his parents. He took all the measures. The mechanism was so simple, it was laughable. The warehouse was full of gunpowder. Roy concentrated his flames on him, not on the barrels, but that was not it. He used his own powers against himself. Telford only needed his flames to redirect them to some exterior bombs, which were supposed to explode alongside with them. The bombs were connected to a subterranean system, leading directly to the heart of the city- the Central Headquarters, and spreading all over the streets. This way he would have also gotten rid of his remaining family for good, and set down the business with great panache.
Roy discovered his uncle's plans and was sure the city would be attacked one of those days. He told his trusted subordinates about his worries and made sure all the caution has been taken. They went to such lengths that they even disabled the whole system. But, in fact, it was all fake, all a game. Telford calculated Roy's action before they even happened.
The only true bombs were those in that warehouse. He knew about Roy's relationship and he also found that he would take his lover to a restaurant on his birthday. Knowing how his nephew was always in a hurry, he presumed he would take the way which, as a matter of fact, he took, and lead him directly to the trap. By disabling the system, he activated the real bombs, those which were meant to be Roy's death.
And now, his dearest Edward was there. In his arms, breathlessly, full of burns and deep cuts. He managed to shield Roy from the explosion's range, but he was hit with full force.
"No... NO! NO, EDWARD!" Roy screamed. He felt suddenly dizzy, his wound taking the best of him, and he fell on the ground, unconscious.
The snow was lazily falling around them, preparing their cold graves.
A/N: That's it for now, the next chapter will explain the story gasps I left. Hope you enjoyed and I please review/follow/favourite! It keeps me going! Thank you!
Special thanks to everyone who read, review, followed and favourited. You are all so great and make my day!
See you next time, bye bye!