A/N:'Morning, there's a new chapter with a lot of fluff. I hope you will enjoy it and thank you for reading! Please don't forget to leave some feedback!
On with the show...
Chapter 27 – Eastern Hearts
Den barked loudly at the two strangers. He lowered his tail and prepared to jump on one of the unknown men, fixing him with dilated pupils. "Den, no!" Winry growled at him, making him docile. "Bad boy! You don't bark at guests! Sorry," she told the two men and grabbed the dog by the collar. She got to her knees and kissed him on top of his large head. "I know, Den, you were only doing your job, sorry I called you bad. You're a good boy," she assured the dog and scratched him behind the ears. He looked contently at his owner and licked her hand when she allowed him to.
She turned to Roy, who stood next to the men at the entrance door. Right behind them, the brothers were looking at each other questioningly, waiting for someone to speak.
"You will have to excuse me, Winry, I have already imposed myself on your heads so much," Roy broke the silence, his voice all honey. He wore a tender smile, one that directed everyone's attention to him rather than to the strangers at his side. "Can we please go somewhere more private than the front door?"
"Oh, sure, sorry! Yeah, let's go to the kitchen, Granny's there."
They followed her to the end of the corridor to the large country kitchen, where Olivier Armstrong and Pinako Rockbell were both standing up. The younger woman had a menacing stance, like she was ready to pounce and break some necks, but she immediately straightened when she saw the two dark skinned men. 'Screw my luck,' she cursed inwardly.
"Major Miles and Scar. What are you doing here?" Olivier demanded with a slightly trembling voice, glaring at Roy with the corner of her eyes. He looked back at her, nonverbally asking her to behave. He didn't want to see any scenes. She swallowed hard, hoping that it would calm her before she was overwhelmed by the desire to strangle Mustang.
"Major General?" Miles asked incredulously, looking at his former commander strangely. He remembered his manners and saluted her with the back of his hand. Olivier nodded curtly, but she avoided his goggled eyes. Beside him, Scar tilted his head, acknowledging her nearly non-existent salute.
"What are you doing here?" she repeated, this time without a trace of inflexion. She noticed Pinako tense in her peripheral, but she looked straight forward. Her face was hard and unreadable, just how it was when she received a report.
"Easy, Mira," Roy intervened, using her second name to lighten the mood and remind her they were in an informal environment. Her eyes started to have a look that made his skin crawl, but he didn't give it too much credit. "I've told Miles to come over here to debrief me about the situation in Ishbal and, if your memory helps you, he was supposed to relay me your classified information that couldn't be shared over the phone. Remember?"
"Ah, yes," she made, narrowing her eyes at Roy. She hoped they appeared as furious as she felt right then. She looked again somewhere higher than the former Northman, her gaze turning awfully cold, if not a little sick. She fixed her gaze on his high ponytail, which left a shadow that resembled a fern on the wall behind him. "If that's so, Major, I'll ask you to continue with your orders. General, if you'll excuse me," she said dejectedly and left the kitchen marching, her back as straight as a rod.
Pinako looked away from the departing figure. She turned her eyes to the tallest man, his head bowed humbly and stare boring holes in the floor. His forehead was marred with a deep scar, the tissue white like his hair. He raised his red eyes, apologising without speaking to the old grandmother. She pressed her lips together, struck by so many feelings.
She chose not to listen to them. "Let's not stay in the kitchen, come to the living room," she said and waved to one of the doors in the kitchen. Roy nodded at her, looking thankful. She dismissed him with a nod of her head.
"These are Major Miles and Scar, Misses Rockbell," Roy presented the two strangers when they've all reached the living room. Edward didn't sit down and crossed his arms over his chest, looking carefully at Scar and Pinako. Winry seated herself on the couch and played absently with the hem of her shirt.
Misses Rockbell cocked her head, mimicking a salute. "It's good to finally meet you, Sirs. I've heard so much about you."
"Thank you kindly, Misses Rockbell," Miles started, struggling to forget the look he had been given by Olivier. He carefully rested his sunblind goggles on top of his head, burying the hinges in his white hair. "We shan't overstay our due. General, I'd like to present my report privately, if it's amiable."
"You shouldn't hurry so much, officer, you aren't bothering anyone," Pinako said, looking the Ishbalan soldier in his crimson eyes. Miles flinched slightly, not accustomed to see anyone without the grey filter of his glasses, but he didn't want to seem rude.
Roy cleared his throat, turning everyone's attention to him. "I have to agree with the Major, let us talk first and then see of the rest. Please excuse us," he said and extended his arm to one of the adjourning rooms. Miles went first.
Mustang chanced a brief glance in Edward's direction. The blond nodded and looked at his brother, who tilted his head in understanding. "I will go make some tea," Al said loudly and went to the kitchen, without expecting a reply from the others.
Edward soon followed him, leaving Winry and her grandmother with Scar. It seemed like they were headed for a long conversation he didn't want to hear.
In the kitchen, the two brothers shared some uneasy glances with their golden eyes. "What is going on, brother?"
"I don't know, Al. I think Scar came to talk to Granny and Winry."
"I gathered that much," the younger brother said, "but what's with the Major General? She looked so annoyed, more than usual."
"Beats me!" Ed shrugged, visibly bothered he didn't know what was happening. He hoped Roy would sometime remember to talk to him when he felt like making a mess out of something. "I think I should go talk to her," he suggested, abandoning the thought that his lover would tell him anything. He needed to get straight to the source, even if the source might shoot him.
"That's a good idea. I will make myself scarce for a while, I don't want to intrude on them," Al pointed to the living room. "Den will keep me company, go talk to the Major General."
Edward agreed and went out in the hallway, to the staircase. He climbed two stairs at a time, impatient to understand what has happened a few moments before. He had never seen the female officer so subdued, besides that time when she had fooled General Raven to get herself a place in Central Command. This time, she seemed to do it without any gains, which was unusual.
He stepped lightly towards one of the guest rooms, the one they have prepared for her. He knocked on the closed door. "Enter," replied a muffled voice.
He opened the door and closed it behind him. He saw Olivier had her back turned to him, looking out the window at the white garden. Their snowmen and forts were holding on, abandoned when the two Ishbalans arrived at the front door.
"Take a seat, Fullmetal," she ordered sternly. Ed looked around to find a chair and sat on it. "Where are the others?"
He sighed, bothered by her demanding tone. She could exercise some kindness with that sour voice, it wouldn't kill her. "Roy's talking to Miles, Scar to Winry and Granny, and Al's making tea because it seemed like the only available option. And I'm here, but you know that."
"Did you know about their visit?"
"Their- Ah, you mean the Major and Scar. Yeah, Roy told me. He asked Granny if it was okay for the Major to come today and talk to him about I don't know what, he didn't tell me that part. I guess Scar is here for Granny and Winry, maybe he wants to make peace with them or something."
Olivier grunted irritated. "Why wasn't I informed about this?"
"How should I know? Why didn't you just stay to find out?" Ed asked, making a point.
"It's none of your concern."
"Then why do you suspect I'd know anything? I'm so tired of being treated like an idiot, what's going on? Seriously."
She sighed and turned to him. She could have easily snapped at him, but he didn't do her any wrong. "Seems I can't catch a break even in the middle of nowhere."
"Sorry, you've called the wrong people. We don't do breaks."
"Yeah, I've noticed." She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "Do you really don't know what's going on?"
"Why- Of course not! No one tells me anything, I hear about things only when someone's been stabbed or I'm bleeding like a horse! Why would you suspect I suddenly do now?"
"That makes sense."
"Yeah, so... What's going on?"
"Well, if you are so adamant on finding out what's going on, I will tell you. I went to your boy-toy in Central with a problem, I'm expecting and he offered himself to take me out of the city for a while to rest. I've never thought he'd invite Miles here. But I know what he is going to say to Mustang, so there's no need for me to stay with them," she explained monotonously.
"Aha- Wait, what?" Ed gasped, looking at her belly. "Expecting as in what, being pregnant? Really?"
"Yes. Now that I've satisfied your curiosity, I'd ask you to leave," she said and motioned for the door.
"Are you sure you are? How did that happen?" he blurted curiously.
"How the hell do you think it happened, genius?"
"That's not what I've meant! But you are always careful and cool as a cucumber, I can't imagine you, you know, being like that."
"Being like what? Pregnant?" Edward nodded silently. "Me neither, kid," she said, surprisingly gentle.
Ed watched her startled. "Well, congratulations, I guess. I take you haven't told the Major yet, right?"
"Why do you think I'm hiding in my room?"
"That's not a reason, it's not like he can smell you or I don't know, see through you. The only who might have sniffed you off is Den, but he's a dog. He won't tell."
"Your grandmother knows. She's just told me."
"Granny is something else, she feels these things. But the Major won't, I think he's too afraid to even say your rank after the face you've pulled in the kitchen! You should look more in the mirror, you have a scary look in your eyes."
She snorted. "I'll take it as a compliment."
"It wasn't, but whatever. So, you've thought that the best way to hide it was to go to Mustang. That's a bad plan from the start, who in their right mind would confess any secrets to him? Or were you just reporting to your superior? Oh, now I understand, you didn't tell us because we are all lower ranked or civilians, you only report to superiors."
Olivier started laughing whole-heartily. "What a foul mouth you have, Fullmetal! You're lucky I like you, otherwise you'd have had your brains all over the walls long before now."
XXXXX
Inside the cosy sitting room on the lower floor, the air was thick with tension. The three occupants of the room looked at each other mutely, waiting for the other to start talking. The Ishbalan opened his mouth to say something, but Pinako raised her hand to silence him. He nodded and watched the old woman light her pipe. She took a few drags and then moved her eyes to him. "So, you are Scar."
"Yes," he replied simply. He silently waited for the grandmother to continue.
Misses Rockbell wetted her lips, thinking. She took another drag out of her pipe and blew the smoke slowly. "My granddaughter has told me about you," she said, tilting her head towards Winry. "I hear you are working with the military to reconstruct Ishbal."
"Yes," Scar confirmed, his red eyes staring straight at the older woman.
"That's a noble thing to do, helping those poor people rebuild their homes. They didn't deserve to be hunt down like animals, it's good they haven't been forgotten. No one should ever suffer what your folks had to go through." Pinako emphasised her words with a cloud of smoke, enveloping them in the perfumed fumes. "Nor did the Amestrian soldiers deserve to be killed in that war, they had been merely deployed there, thinking they were protecting their country. It hadn't been a fair fight, innocent people killed innocent people. Everyone thought they were doing the right thing, but they all were puppets in a terrible scheme."
"It has always been the shooting man who decided when to shoot," the Ishbalan said lowly. "Your people killed mine because they decided to do that. My people riposted because they chose to. All wars are made by the decisions of those who fight them. Those who command them are only directing the soldiers' efforts toward a direction, but those soldiers are the ones to shoot. We are all to blame, equally."
"You're a wise man, Mister Scar. Why have you come here?" Pinako asked, her voice devoid of any accusation.
"I have come to make peace."
"Peace?"
"Yes, peace," Scar repeated and put his elbows on his knees. He uncovered his forearms, showing the women his tattoos. "These are the results of my brother's research. He thought that with alchemy, all the problems of the world could be solved. That there would be peace and people would stop fighting. That with alchemy, everyone could live in harmony with God and Nature. That was his dream and he died for it. He gave me his arm before he finally met Ishbala in the everlasting fields. His research was passed on to me, but I didn't understand its value, its true meaning. I believed that I was given the power of destruction to avenge my people. I thought what I did was right, that I was paying in kind for my people, who had suffered. For my brother, who was the kindest man I have ever known. But what I did was to take a decision, my own decision, to continue the crimes of war. I have died two times already, but I know I was reborn for a reason. I have come to make peace with my past and ask for forgiveness, so I can travel into a new life and archive my true purpose."
Pinako looked into the red eyes of the Ishbalan. "Were you a priest, Mister Scar?"
"Only in my first life, Misses Rockbell. In my second, I was a murderer. I have wronged your family, along with many others. Nothing will ever undo my crime, but I want to free my second life and give it back to Ishbala, to have my sins confessed and to pay for them in front of Her and you. I have slain your son and daughter-in-law, who had given me my second life. With your blessing and your granddaughter's, I beg of you to allow me to begin my third."
Winry let out a sudden sob. Her hands clenched into fists. "How can you talk about redemption? Do you think you can erase everything just by apologising?"
"Winry," the grandmother said and touched her forearm. "Your parents did what they thought was best. So did Mister Scar. The war was terrible for all of us, but everyone deserves to redeem themselves. Mister Scar has found his redemption in the East, in Ishbal. Yuriy and Sarah died for others, but they live through the ones they've saved. There is an order in things and I believe nothing happens without reason." She turned to Scar. "I don't know what you have felt in that moment, when you took my children's lives, but in their names and mine, I bless your new life and forgive your previous."
Winry bit her lips, fighting her tears. It would never be fair that her parents had been killed, but what had been fair in that war? She thought of all the soldiers she had met as she chased after Edward to repair his automail. He thought of the kind Lieutenant Hawkeye, who followed her friend like a shadow and did everything to help him. She was a nice lady, but she had been a sniper in the war. She thought of the good Brigadier General Hughes, who was killed, even though he had a family waiting for him. She thought of General Mustang, whom she had always seen smiling and laughing, but he had led battalions of soldiers to their deaths and to the destruction of others. She thought of the Northern commander, Major General Armstrong, who had to hide one of her colleagues from being killed. Did Major Miles deserve to have to deny his origins in order to survive? Did his fellow red eyed soldiers have to perish like that?
Scar had lost his brother in the conflagration. He had lost his parents, his grandparents, his friends. So did many more Ishbalans. Was anything fair, in the end? Didn't they all deserve a new start?
'Think of those you know,' she encouraged herself. She knew so many who had suffered. She could at least help one person to end their misery. "I...," she started and then swallowed hard. "I don't know why you had to do what you did, but I forgive you too. Mom and Dad would have wanted this, there's no need to hold a grudge when we can simply live and help the others live with us. Sir," she looked him straight in the eyes, "I hope you will use this chance better."
Scar lowered to his knees and bowed profoundly, his forehead touching the floor. "Thank you," he said, head still down. "Thank you so much," he repeated, tears falling freely from his fiery eyes.
XXXXX
Miles crossed his feet under the table, tapping a finger against his sideburns. "I believe it wouldn't be an opportune movement, Sir. Aerugo had agreed with the free exchange between us, now there is Creta with their armistice and there's also Xing. We'll have more soon, if General Crendell respects the schedule. The North is still a risky gamble, I hear Drachma is in full civil war and we'd get caught in a fight we don't need. No negotiations would be respected if we talked to them now."
Roy flexed his hands, thinking. "You suggest it would be wiser to concentrate on the Southern nations."
"Yes. Our northern border is in no danger at the moment, Drachma can wait until we have more support and resources. But southwards, it's warm, so much easier to advance. Reliable sources tell me things are getting heated because of the armistice."
"Hm. That's actually a good point. I will have to think about this particular detour, but this idea of a united free market would be interesting."
The Ishbalan nodded. "Yes, it would be. The infrastructure started to be adequate, but it still has a long way to go. We would have many advantages after such a union."
Roy cocked his head to the side. He rolled his tongue inside his mouth, thinking about what Miles had proposed. Besides the many reports from the never-ending conflict with Drachma and the situation in the East, the Major talked about an economical alliance between states to help them develop their commerce, with Amestris as a core. He could think of a few domains from his country that could really benefit from such an exchange, since they didn't have all the resources they needed.
He would have to discuss it with Grumman, too. Until then, he considered he had heard all he needed to. "Is there anything you wanted to tell me?" he asked politely.
"No, that would be all," Miles concluded. "I am sure the Major General has already told you everything, but thank you for listening."
"Actually, she hasn't told me anything."
"No?"
"You've got that right. It's the first time I hear about what you have told me."
Miles has suspected as much. His former commander would never undermine anyone's work. He was the one instructed to deliver the message he had relayed, not her, even though she knew about it. She had never believed in a work half-done, talking instead of him would have been a violation to his attributes. To them, it was all about respect.
However, he felt contradicted by her attitude. He was hurt by the welcome he had gotten from her. He couldn't have possibly expected to find her in Resembool of all the places, so his disbelief in seeing her wasn't misplaced, but she didn't have to act so distant towards him. She had always been cold, but she had never treated him with such indifference, such disdain. She had never left a room which contain them both like that. She had never lied to him either, he realised. She had told him not too long before then that she wouldn't leave the fort during the holiday season. Yet there she was, in the East.
She looked so displeased to see him. He didn't know what has happened that time, but his queen had never regarded him like that. She looked almost disgusted by his presence. She was above anything to him, she was the world, she was the sun and the stars – he had never thought himself capable of doing anything to bother her, to make her feel anything but worshipped. He would hang himself before wronging her.
She had always told him her pains, her sorrows. He looked at the raven haired alchemist. He definitely knew what has happened with his queen, he was there with her, after all. "I need to ask you something, Roy," the Ishbalan said, using the other's given name to signal they had finished talking business. The brunette leaned forward, motioning for the other to continue. "Why is Olivier here?"
"Ah, you've noticed," Roy made lamely. He didn't enjoy being questioned about someone else's problems, but he was their friend. He could at least reassure Miles while Armstrong found the courage to confront him with their situation. Or her wits, because rarely did he see someone acting so stupid like she did then.
Miles frowned, his red eyes getting cloudy. "How could I not? The way she looked at me, like-" he swallowed hard, finding himself unable to finish that sentence. He took a breath. "Like I was filth," he continued, struggling to erase those unforgiving eyes upon himself. "What has happened? Did she tell you anything?"
Roy cringed. 'There we go,' he thought grimly. It was sad to hear such a tough man sound so miserable. "I wouldn't exactly use the word 'filth'..."
"Then what was that? I have done all that she had asked of me, I have delivered her message in time and to the right person. I ha-"
"Look, Miles," Roy interrupted him. "I get your frustration, trust me, I know how you are feeling. It's just a bit of a sensitive situation." How does one tell someone they are going to be a father without telling them? That was the thing Olivier should be doing, not him! It wasn't easy for her, he supposed, but it was getting overbearing for him. It must be killing Miles to see her like that, unable to talk to him, but how was any of that his fault, Roy asked himself.
"Something indeed has happened, then," Miles commented blankly. His face was unmoving, but behind his bare, crimson eyes, wheels were turning. "I understand I'm not entitled to demand any explanation or not to be told anything that crosses over my jurisdiction or authority, but I have never thought that it would degenerate into something like that. She is losing her trust in me."
Mustang sighed exasperated. He should get up and drag that damned woman down the stairs by the hair to talk to the poor man, but he thought he could at least mentally prepare him. And it wouldn't do to manhandle her like that, but curse all the heavens – she deserved a good beating, if she understood after it that it was easier to start talking and stop glaring. "It's not-"
"She refuses to tell me anything whenever I phone her," the Major said, not hearing him. "For the past weeks, she didn't even answer to my calls and the last time, she's picked up the receiver and put it down. I- I think I'm losing her, Roy."
"Mate, stop it right there. It's Olivier, she knows how to show emotion as well as a brick. Go to her, it would cut your chase faster than talking to me. I am sick of shouting and I am so close to strangling her, you can't even begin to imagine. Just... just be patient with her, okay? Please." Roy pushed his chair back and lifted to his feet. Miles looked at him dumbfounded, not understanding what he was saying. He was visibly battling with himself, imagining different scenarios.
His train of thoughts crashed when the door behind him was opened. He turned to look at it and saw Olivier, her face dishevelled. Roy raised his hands in praise, overlooking her haunted features. "Ah, finally!"
She glared at him, her arms covering her chest tightly. He walked to her and stopped in front of her. "End this nonsense already," he demanded clearly and left the room.
Faced with the possibility of coming clean with the man who had her heart, she felt more afraid than she had ever felt in her entire life. She cursed under her breath, blaming Edward for sending her downstairs to talk to Miles and finish all the mess. It was stupid to run like that, they were adults and they could deal with the consequences of their actions. But she was frightened by a possible rejection. She wasn't sure she would be able to survive that. It was the first time she had ever feared for her mind. She looked at the window and gently lowered an arm to rest it against her stomach, still not showing anything. It reassured her, though, knowing that no matter what, she wouldn't be alone. She had her little baby.
Miles sprang to his feet. "Permission to speak, Sir," he demanded formally, his voice rigid. She bit her lower lip, hurt by the sudden coldness. She nodded, not trusting her voice. "I have delivered my report to the General," he said, not knowing how to begin. He clasped his hands behind his back, his face reverting to its usual blankness. He would act as normal as he could, he decided.
"Good," she made absently, her eyes focused somewhere on the wall behind the man. He noticed it and decided he had to know why he was treated like that. "Olivier," he called her name, making her flinch. He couldn't take that, he had to know what was happening. "Have I displeased you in any way?"
She looked down, suddenly feeling herself burn. She was ashamed of herself. He should never have to question himself. He wasn't capable of displeasing her, he was the kindest and the gentlest man she had ever known. "I don't understand-"
"I don't understand either!" he shouted, losing his cool. She couldn't even look at him. His queen... his queen was rejecting him. "I can't possibly understand why you've been avoiding me lately... Have- have I done anything wrong? Have I hurt you? Did- did you finally get sick of me?"
"Finally?"
"Yes, finally! I don't want to believe that you would ever think that I could betray your trust, so it must be it! I know I've always been a nuisance-"
"No! You've never been a nuisance, I'm sorry you think that," she said softly, not believing what she was hearing. That was not how she imagined things would unfold. "Why do say that?"
"Because, Olivier, not even once in all these years did you show me how you really felt. Am I just a commodity? I've bent over my neck to please you, but evidently I have lost my utility, now that I'm so far away. I've tried as best as I could to accommodate my new position, it's hard to have to travel so much, but I thought it brought you some joy. I thought you might be happy that I helped my people and still came to see you, but... You seemed fine with that in the begging, but things have obviously changed. I thought you would be honest with me, that I deserved that, at least. Be frank and admit it to my face."
"Admit what?"
"That-" Miles felt something shatter inside him. "That you want to stop whatever we had." He shook his head, feeling dizzy at hearing his own words. "Actually, I think it's better if we did," he said breathlessly, clenching his fists. "I really can't take your indifference anymore, it's not just now, it has started a long time ago, but I wanted to believe I was just imagining it. You can find yourself another one to bend to your whims, it can't be that hard. I just want to be left alone, to stop having to run around and chase after you." He felt something warm gushing over his nails. He must have broken the skin of his palms with his nails. "I'd move the mountains for you, Olivier, but not when you don't want me to. Just tell me you don't want me anymore and I'll get out of your hair. You can find your happiness elsewhere, I can't live knowing you're unhappy."
She shook her head vehemently, her hair rotating with it. She still couldn't look into his eyes. "You don't mean that!"
"Well, do you?" he asked, his eyes staring helplessly at her. He raised his hands and pressed them to his chest, not caring his nails were painted with his own blood. "Do I mean anything to you? Does it make any difference? If I didn't find you here, would you have told me that you wanted to get rid of me? Or would you have amused yourself with my incapability to let you go?"
"What the hell has Mustang told you?"
"He hasn't told me anything, but he didn't need to! It is all over your face. I really thought I mattered to you, Olivier, even if only a little. Whenever I've made you coffee in the morning or massaged your ankles because they were hurting so badly or I held you until you fell asleep because you were having nightmares, I... I really wanted to believe you didn't keep me just because I was useful and easy."
She crossed the distance between them and slapped him viciously, turning his head to the side. Hair fell over her face, forming a thick curtain over her eyes. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!"
"I shall talk however I please! You can do whatever you want to me, I don't care! Just tell me the truth, I'm tired of all this. You could at least have had the decency to regard me like I was at least mildly human, not the dirt under your boots!"
"I have not!"
"You can't even look me in the eyes, Olivier."
She raised her head, her long fringe falling off her forehead. She watched him with wide blue eyes, their white blood-shot. She wiped the saltiness that was forming under them with the back of her hand. She felt her cheeks getting wet, her tears refusing to listen to her order to stop falling. She held his gaze and he snapped, not being able to breathe when his love looked so miserable. He raised a shaking hand to her face, but he couldn't touch her. A droplet of blood trailed to his wrist, staining his white shirt. "Olivier..."
"I can't believe you would even imagine something like that! How can you possibly think that?" she asked, her voice uneven. She hated she sounded so vulnerable.
Miles felt himself break. He has made her cry. "Olivier...," he repeated, not being able to say anything else. She held his gaze, afraid that he might leave her if she dared to blink. She took his raised hand and lowered it, getting it closer to her body. She placed it over her stomach, like her gesture would solve all their problems. He stared at her, not comprehending. "What-"
"I'm carrying your child," she said, voice hoarse. She looked away from him. She felt him shift, take his hand away from her like she burnt. He starred at her, the half-moon shaped cuts on his palm leaving their crimson print over her belly. She waited for something to explode, but what she got was different.
"You- you regret it, you are ashamed of that," he said brokenly, once the news had finally settled in. "Oh, Ishbala..."
Olivier's head snapped up. "No! I'm only ashamed of myself, of what I was about to do! I shouldn't have hid it from you, I should have told you, at least... I- I was afraid to tell you, believe me, I feared you might hate me for it! I know I shouldn't ever be trusted with an infant, but I can't just kill it, I mean... I know you don't want children, but I love it already, I can't just get rid of it! It makes me sick in the morning, but it won't be that bad, even if you'll leave me. It- it'll be less lonely with it in me."
She was suddenly enveloped in a bone-crushing embrace. He stroked her hair so gently, she thought she might faint from the intensity of the sensation. He avoided squeezing her mid-section, afraid to hurt her or the little life inside her. "What are you doing?" she demanded incredulously. Talking about mood swings, she was the one with rampaging hormones, not him.
"Olivier, you have no idea how happy you make me," he said in her hair. She nudged him back, meeting his red gaze. "Do you mean it?" she asked, suspicious of his sudden change of heart.
"More than anything." He stroked her cheeks fondly, looking at her like it was the first time he had ever seen her. "I'm sorry for what I've said, I couldn't possibly leave you, I love you too much, you are everything to me," he mumbled and kissed her forehead. He looked at her again and noticed the little red smears over her face, where he had touched her. He wiped them fast, but she caught his hands and put them in front of her eyes. "You're bleeding!" she exclaimed, pointing to the impressively deep cuts he had caused himself.
"It's nothing."
"It is! You're hurt, oh fuck it, I've hurt you," she mouthed angrily and kissed his knuckles. He took his hand away and hugged her again, rocking her gently. "You can't hurt me, I'm the luckiest man alive for having you. You are wonderful."
"So are you," she retorted and cupped his cheeks in her palms. "I love you, Farid," she muttered impressively shy, using his given name. The words tasted foreign on her lips. She has never spoken them before, but all be damned – nothing was familiar for her at the moment.
Miles' eyes widened, black overflowing over red. "You- you do? Are you sure?"
She nodded excitedly, feeling something boiling inside her. She rose on her toes, trying to overcome the difference in their heights. He slowly bowed to reach her level and she captured his lips in the sweetest kiss. He encircled her with his strong arms, protecting his little family inside a loving embrace. She smiled impossibly wide and hugged him close to her body, whispering in the hollow of his neck.
Outside the little study, Roy smirked smugly, his ear pressed tightly to the door. He perhaps should have allowed the two officers their privacy, but he wanted to make sure they did the right thing. Or at least talked. He was pleased with what he was hearing.
He saw Edward pace to him, his face harsh. "I can't-"
"Shs!" Roy made, putting a finger over his lips.
"I can't believe you're listening to the door," Ed whispered, glaring at him. "You shouldn't do that!"
"Oh spare me, I'm just watching out in case something goes wrong," the brunette muttered back, shifting his ear on the door. Realisation struck him. "Wait, do you know about-" he waved between them, "-you know what."
"Yeah, I'm the one who sent her downstairs. What're they saying?" the blond asked, getting closer to the door. Roy pointed an accusatory finger to him. "Didn't you say I shouldn't listen to doors?"
"I said you shouldn't, not me."
Roy grinned and returned his attention to the occupants of the room.
Olivier told Miles about her pregnancy and how she had found out about it. She's nearly omitted the fact that she had wanted to get rid of it, but she decided against it. He deserved to know what she had gone through. That earned her a pleading look, one that begged her not to do it. She assured him she wouldn't even imagine doing that, but she still felt like she was dreaming about what was happening.
"Are you really sure you want that with me? The baby? You realise I'm not exactly ideal," she asked, not trusting her ears.
"You are perfect, of course I want this, I've always dreamt of having a family with you," he admitted, thinking of all the times he'd pretended he had a wife just to be left alone when his colleagues tried to set him up with someone on the rare occasions when he took leave permissions. He had always envisioned her as his bride, even though it was just wishful thinking on his part. "I just... I didn't think you wanted that too."
"Nonsense, we were practically one, well, more or less, I mean-"
"Olivier," he cut her off. She closed her mouth and raised an eyebrow, signalling him to continue since he had felt the need to interrupt her. "Let's get married."
"Huh?" she made, dumbstruck.
He was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes glowing brilliantly. He could finally stop with his pretence and really materialise his dream. The entire fort thought he was married, so why not to her? He would have to admit he had been lying to his fellow soldiers and go through a lot of shit from the military to formalise their union, but he cared too little about that. "Would you like that? I'd love it, for one. I know it wouldn't be easy to get the approval, but I can resign, that's not a problem. It wouldn't put your position in any danger."
"Wait, what? No, you can't resign!" she exclaimed. She felt the need to explain herself, seeing him deflate at her outburst. "Hey, I want to marry you, don't get me wrong! But you can't just walk away from your post!"
"Why not? Your rank is higher, it'd be best if I was the one to abandon the military. I'd do it for you, it will be easier to tend to the child this way," he reasoned, pointing to her stomach.
"Most certainly not!"
"I don't want you to get sanctioned because of me!"
"I'd get anyway, I'm having a baby outside of marriage, and that with a subordinate, think! It's illegal among the enlisted!" she burst. "That's not a reason for you to walk away from your job, you've worked too hard for it!"
"Absolutely not! I'm still in the army because of you, not because I'm fond of it! I can find something else to do, but you, you have overcome too much to get to this point, I don't want you to lose it all! You'll become a full General one day, Olivier, you've always wanted that! I don't want you to miss such an opportunity, we will find another way. If not... well, I will take the blame for anything that they might accuse you of."
Armstrong pressed an accusatory finger to his chest. "So you actually say you're going to lie and say you've... what, that you've raped me? Are you out of your bloody mind? How the fuck is that a solution? Did your brain get fried in the sun?"
"Then give me a better option!"
She opened her mouth and closed it. She couldn't possibly allow anyone to tarnish what they had, to even imply that what they have built on a strong foundation of trust and mutual respect was anything but consensual. She couldn't even begin to think what their poor progeny would think when it grew up and heard others say who knew what about its parents. Definitely not!
She looked down, faced with yet another problem. Why did it have to be so complicated? If admitting she was pregnant had been hard, this was hell. She had forgotten about the stupid martial laws! Officers could fraternise only under marital lock, allowed by special permission that was received after a very strict examination that took ages and sometimes wasn't even granted. It was the most preposterous directive in all the regulations form, because not even one soldier cared that they should be married to shag each other, but in case of a baby, that was another story. The Military Police loved those cases the most.
She groaned at her stupidity. It was perhaps the only time in her existence when she's really looked outside the confines of her uniform, and it was unbelievably cold. The Amestrian military could be so stupid sometimes.
She's really hoped it would be easier, but she has forgotten she was an officer first and only after that a human. Being a woman came about third, if it even mattered.
Olivier wet her lips, thinking. She wasn't one to give up, they would find a way to screw those damned martial laws. They have messed with them for so long, there had to be something to do to surpass them again. They were smarter than those idiots who didn't look outside their caves.
Miles watched her, his head clouded with different emotions. He wanted to go and shout his happiness to everyone who crossed his path, but at the same time he wanted to pull his hair out and bury himself under a rock because he'd put his beloved in such a delicate situation. She looked down at their boots, clicking her tongue in concentration.
Maybe it was all about looking outside the box, after all.
Suddenly, her head snapped up, her face splitting into one of the widest grins he had ever seen on anyone. She patted his back excitedly and moved her arms to squeeze his. "I think I have the perfect solution," she said with uncharacteristic glee, the one she reserved only for when she blew up an enemy camp. She turned her head abruptly to the door and yelled, "ROY!"
The Ishbalan regarded her confused, though she didn't seem to notice it. She returned her gaze to him, winking. Miles raised his eyebrows, something evidently eluding his mental grasp.
The door to the study opened to reveal an equally smirking Mustang. "Yes?" he asked, a look of complicity etched on his figure.
"Were you listening?"
"Evidently, who do you take me for?" he said, like it was the most sensitive thing to do.
She nodded pleased. Miles looked back and forth to the two officers, not understanding. She would have normally grabbed the one who had dared to eavesdrop on her conversation and cut him into tiny pieces, but he supposed that wasn't a normal situation.
"Does Breda still make those fake identifications?"
"There's a smart girl," the brunette made proudly. "How long do you want to have been married?"
"I leave that to your decision, just make it sound believable," she replied, looking into her future husband's eyes – with that little stunt, he would become hers more than just bodily and spiritually. He, on the other hand, had a look of insecurity on his face. "Not that I don't appreciate the idea, but we shouldn't use fake papers for this, what if-"
"Miles, mate," Roy started, approaching the two of them. He put a hand on his shoulder, making the Ishbalan look at him. "You do realise that we are all friends with the Fuhrer, right? Who the hell would be stupid enough to go against us?"
Miles looked at Olivier and then back at Roy. "That's a point."
"I like it when people see it my way. Cheers guys, congratulations! I'm a bit insulted you didn't invite me to the wedding, I thought we were friends, but oh, well..." Roy feigned being upset.
"Sod off, Mustang," Olivier replied irritated and showed him the door with the tip of her boot. Roy chuckled and rapidly grabbed Miles' hand and shook it, smiling to him. He then kissed the woman's cheek, properly sending his greetings to them. She growled at him, sounding like a dog ready to bite.
"May you two be blessed, best of luck and whatever else they say in this situation," he made hurriedly, before he was bitten for real, and left them alone.
Before closing the door, Roy backed off to allow Edward to pop his head in. "Congratulations, Sirs!" he said loudly and pulled the brunette officer out of the study. Olivier snorted and returned her gaze to Miles, whom she had never seen more relieved.
XXXXX
Pinako smiled gently at the bowing Ishbalan. "Mister Scar, there's no need for that. You are most welcomed."
"Thank you very much, Misses Rockbell, Misses Elric."
"Whoa, there," Winry said, raising her hands. "Call me Winry, that was my mother-in-law and actually, I don't remember anyone calling her that, ever! Please, Winry's just fine," she added and lowered her hands. "Let's just forget everything and raise a glass to this happy event, shall we?" She rapidly turned to her grandmother, who had a blank look on her face. "I mean, that's what you always say, Granny..."
Pinako chuckled and nodded approvingly. "I agree with the lass. Let's find the boys."
As if on cue, the door to the living room was opened. Edward entered first, closely followed by Roy, who wore a smug smile. "Why, sorry to interrupt you, but I still demand some praise," he said, looking down at the blond. The latter frowned and pushed a fist to the other's chest, making him back off.
"Excuse me, but I have my contribution to this, too!"
"Yes, but mine is more important," Roy argued, ignoring the three other pairs of eyes, all staring at him. He only had eyes for Edward at the moment. He was in dire need of making a point, even if it was an irrelevant one.
"With speeches as stupid as that, why do you even wonder Hawkeye hadn't told you about herself?" Ed retorted, his arms folded over his chest.
"Tell me what?"
"Are you blind or something?"
"So I was right? She's what, dating Havoc? Seriously? Why did she tell you and didn't tell me? I'm her best friend!"
Edward gestured unimpressed. "Yeah, and you were hiding behind a bush to see what she was doing. Hello, you've outgrown the age when it was considered acceptable!"
"You were with me behind that bush, remember?" Roy made, still unaware of their surroundings.
"Because you've dragged me there!"
Winry waved a hand at the two standing men, trying to catch their attention. "Hey, guys..."
"Is everything alright?" Alphonse asked from the door that connected the living room to the kitchen. "I've heard raised voices and I thought something's happened..."
Roy finally realised they have reached the other side of the house. He wondered how that had happened, but it wouldn't be the first time he walked a considerable distance without realising it. He would always forget the outer world existed when he had a heated talk with Edward, especially the sillier ones.
He looked over the blond, who glared dangerously at him. "We were just contemplating what a match-maker I am."
"We are," Ed interjected.
"Whatever, shorty," Roy rolled his eyes. He got himself kicked in the knee cap, the blow making him wince, but he didn't lose his grin.
"Um, okay?" Winry said, still the only one able to talk. She was used to dealing with difficult characters, but she wished she knew what was going on.
The door behind Roy was opened once again, almost hitting him in the back. With practised ease, he bounced to the side to allow the rest of the occupants of the house to enter.
The first to get in was Olivier, looking all satisfied and pleased with herself. She practically dragged Miles after her, nearly smacking him into the outer wall as she pulled him inside. He looked like he didn't know what he was doing there, desperately trying to blend in with the concrete.
Winry and Al watched them absolutely shocked, Pinako's face was plastered with something that resembled amusement, and Scar seemed positively neutral. Miles took a shaking breath, his cheeks burning. He was aware Olivier could become too much to handle when she was happy – in those awfully rare occasions when that occurred – but within the past few minutes, she has managed to overtop all the possible reactions she had ever had. That day was an unending series of first times.
"I hope you didn't start running your mouth, Mustang," she said without any heat, her figure oozing sparks of excitement. He shook his head and pulled her closer by the hip, readying himself for a fresh round of making fun of her, with the risk of getting his teeth knocked out. "Ah, how kids grow!" he exclaimed mirthfully, mimicking the way their departed friend, Maes Hughes, used to hug them when something good happened. She growled and cursed him loudly.
Alphonse cleared his throat, uncomfortable with then strange intimacy of the moment. They all looked like they've taken some pretty interesting drugs. "What is going on?" he asked, his voice small.
He was heard, however. "I've just found out I'm married," the female officer said serenely, pushing Roy aside a bit too forcefully. Her face twisted in a scowl, suddenly realising she was acting like a fool. She straightened her light coloured blouse, glowering at the sight of the blood that Miles had left over her belly.
"Okay, great?" Winry made. "Um, weren't you supposed to know that? I mean, weren't you there? How long have you been married?"
Olivier looked at Roy, waiting for a reply. He bit his upper lip in concentration. "You said you're in about eight weeks, so... four months? Is that okay with you?"
"That'd be August, right?" she retorted. "No, I was preparing my troops for the exercise then, we couldn't have."
"The East had the drill with Briggs in July," Miles said over them. "That's more plausible, at least I was with you at the moment."
"Hm. Then I guess that'd be for about five months, to answer your question. We're still working on the details."
"You don't know when you've gotten married? Wait, are you two married?" Al asked dumbly. He didn't know the two former colleagues were involved, in the first place. "I mean, Major, did you-"
"Not really," Olivier said before Miles had the chance to open his mouth. "We're just discussing when it would have been better to have married, since we aren't and we should have been."
"Aha," Winry made, looking at her grandmother. "How does that work? Did I miss something?"
Pinako smiled wider, ignoring her granddaughter. It seemed she understood what was going on, unlike the younger couple in the room. "Ah, so that's the one you were telling me about, Olivier," she made approvingly, looking at Miles. "Good choice, girl." He tilted his head in acknowledgement, muted by his joy. He got an elbow to his side from his future wife, making him regain his voice and play his usual part of the man who casted light over events.
"We, Olivier and I, have decided to marry ," he explained, pointing to the shorter woman. "The military has strict rules about it and we need to decide when we would have supposedly married because, well, we are expecting a baby," he recited, slightly embarrassed by how everyone stared straight at him.
The room went silent around them, eyes searching. Not a second later, everyone erupted in cheering.
Scar pressed his palms together in the customary way of the Ishbalans and bowed slightly in the couple's direction. "May Ishbala guide your paths, Brother and Sister," he said in the ancient language of the Ishbalans. Miles mimicked his gesture, thankful that his fellow colleague was respecting the proper tradition. "We thank you, Brother," he replied in the same language. Next to him, Olivier echoed his words, remembering what she had been taught by him many years before, when she had asked him to tell her all he knew about his ancestors' culture.
Winry jumped to her feet and hugged Olivier, startling her with the sudden contact. "Congratulations! That's so exciting, a baby!" she exclaimed. She panicked and froze, realising what she had done, but her embrace was soon returned. "Thank you, Winry," the female officer replied, deciding she could forget her deep respect to her own privacy and personal space for a few moments, if everyone was so happy to share the good news with them. She chanced a glance to Roy and wordlessly thanked him for convincing her to allow this wondrous slip in her life. He winked at her.
Miles and her, they could overcome any hardship they would ever face from then on, as long as they were together and had friends around them to kick some good sense into them. Especially into her, she thought as she toasted with a glass of water, unable to drink anything stronger.
XXXXX
The rest of the Winter Holidays passed faster than a storm in midsummer. After some half-hearted insistence from the old grandmother, the two Ishbalans agreed to stay with them for a few more days. Pinako proved very courteous over Scar, respecting her words of forgiving him completely.
The mismatched occupants of the house found themselves thrown directly into the excitement of the end of the year, coerced into respecting all the holiday traditions of the East. The house smelled like gingerbread and it was warm and cheerful, in contrast to the frost from outside. In spirit with the times, Roy, Miles and Scar, being the tallest, built a huge fortification with the large amount of snow that has fallen since they have arrived in Resembool. The rest, especially Edward, made snowmen, stealing all of Granny's pans to put over their heads as hats.
Olivier outdid herself with the appearance of snow canons and what wanted to look like a tank, but resembled an upside-down saucepan more than anything. She gladly shared her family's recipes – which she had never used for various reasons, but had been drilled inside her head because her mother hoped she would turn up more lady-like - with Pinako and Winry, who impressed everyone with their amazing cooking skills.
She was currently standing on the large staircase, sipping tea. She was starting to get sick of tea - she missed the taste of coffee, but she guessed she could wait some more time until she would be able to enjoy it again. She looked at the moon outside, shiny in the darkness of the sky. She was so grateful for the past few days, she had forgotten how good a vacation could be with the right people. Perhaps all that's happened was meant to take her head out from the gutters and determine her to live a proper life.
"Mind if I join in your contemplation?" Roy asked from behind her. He put a blanket over her shoulders and took a seat on the same step as her, leaving some good space to his right if anyone wanted to climb up or down the stairs. "Here, you shouldn't get a cold now. What're you having?"
"Tea. It sucks really bad, want some?"
"Sure," he said and took the mug from her hand. He took a sip and winced. "Urgh, what's this poison?"
"Something to take away my nausea. It tastes like shit, but it's working. I haven't felt sick at all, Pinako gave it to me. She said she took it when she was having her son."
"Okay, take that evil concoction away from me," he said and gave the mug back to her. "So, what are you thinking about, all alone?"
"How to pluck your eyes out."
"Ouch. You're no fun, Mira."
"Yeah, I guess I'm not," she agreed readily. "I was just thinking about these days, it's been, how to put it... it's been normal. Like really normal, like how life should be, without orders, just plain and simple, no threats, no nothing. I think I needed this respite, even if I wasn't sure it'd be any good. It's hard to relax when you're a commander."
"Told you, this is the best place to unwind and think in peace," Roy commented and took her hand in his. "I'm glad you've talked to Miles. Did you see it wasn't all that bleak?"
"Hm," she hummed. "Perhaps I have underestimated him, though I shouldn't have. I just can't believe I'm getting married and having a baby, it's like I'm growing another eye, it's strange. But I'm grateful, you know, I've always wondered how that would feel, if I were an ordinary woman living an ordinary life."
"Is it how you were imagining?"
"Obviously not, in my mind I didn't have to sign fake marriage papers that state I was hitched at the time I've gotten knocked up so I don't get martialed. But if I overlook that, I think it's alright." She squeezed his hand. "Thanks, Roy, you've been a real help. I don't know what I would've done if I didn't come to you, but don't let it get to your head."
He waved her off. "Don't mention it, I'm always happy to help a friend. That's what friends do."
"Hm, friends. I guess we are friends, even though you still suck."
"I'm honoured. I wonder how it will look," Roy pointed to her stomach. He was excited someone he knew was having a little one, he would be spoiling the life out of it when he visited.
"The baby? I've no idea, I mean, its blood is so mixed I don't know what'll pop out. But I hope it will look more like Miles or at least have red eyes, my family has enough blonds with blue eyes. It didn't make us any better - just look at my brother, so I guess whoever it resembled, it'd be fine. I want a healthy child, not one to put on a poster."
"That's fair." He raised her left hand to his eye level. "Will you put a ring on this?"
"I'll have to, we need to look married. Miles said he'll buy some simple rings, the simplest he can find. I don't want too much fuss over this either, I simply want to enjoy it until I'll have to wake up in the middle of the night to act the milking cow and change diapers." She frowned. "Urgh, I've forgotten that part."
"Didn't you have a governess when you were little?"
"Obviously, but I still liked helping with my sisters and mom fed us all by herself, I've seen my fair share of breast feeding. It felt somewhat honest to tend to then, I was their older sister, I had to have some embarrassing stories to tell them when they'd be grown-ups. Though I didn't get to make fun of them," she said with a pang of regret. "I have no idea how I'll tell them. My father will probably have a stroke and Alex will start crying and ripping off his shirt."
"Your parents have been inviting him over every time you two were in Central, I don't think it'll be that much of a shock."
"They've been inviting him because they thought he was my assistant and he was escorting me. Well, he was, but I've never told them anything more."
"Your mother has definitely sniffed you off, she's got five kids, from crying out loud! She must have developed some sixth sense for that. Don't worry, if anything bothers you, just tell your brother, he'll back you up. Or call me, they've always liked me and I know better than to rip shirts off me."
She slapped his hand away. "I'm not going to let Alex fight my battles, who do you think I am?"
"Hah, seems all this 'settling down' thing didn't soften you, after all."
"Fuck off, Mustang."
"Where?" Roy asked, smirking. She rolled her eyes. "We are so not playing that stupid game."
"Thank Ishbala for Her mercy," Miles said from the top of the staircase. The two at the base looked up and motioned for him to descend. Roy went a step higher, allowing Miles to sit down next to Olivier, beside the wall to her left. "I had to freeze in the bloody telegraph tower because of your idiot game for an entire month. It's a miracle I didn't get frostbites, it was ridiculously cold during that winter."
"It wasn't that bad," Olivier made, nudging him. "You've been in worse conditions."
"I agree, but I didn't have to go up and down the fort to deliver notes with cities where you were sending one another off!" Miles complained, feeling himself shiver at the reminder.
"Whatever," Olivier dismissed him, showing him her tea. "It can't be worse than this vile thing I have to drink because of your kid."
"What is it?" he asked, sniffing the fumes oozing from the mug. The smell was repulsive.
"Something for the morning sickness. Pinako's given me the recipe, the plants sound so mystical."
"I didn't notice you were having any morning sickness," the quarter Ishbalan reasoned, trying to remember if he had seen her nauseous or sick.
"Oh, you should've seen her, she was glorious throwing up in the morning," Roy said grossly, smiling at the mental image of how he had to pull her hair back. It amused him to no end, for some strange reason. Miles looked at him questioningly.
"Don't listen to that idiot. That's because of the tea, it's pretty efficient," she replied and took another sip without making any face. She had gotten used to the taste, it wasn't that bad after a few days of taking it. "So, want some?"
Miles patted her leg apologetically. "I'll have to pass it, sorry."
"Where's your courage, Major? Even this twat could drink it," she pointed to Roy behind her. He kicked her shoulder with his foot. "Hey!"
"I didn't go daft yet, thank you very much," Miles said sagely and shook his head. Mustang snorted, as if that defended him from the insult.
"I thought it was just you, Mira, but neither of you is any fun. You make quite the pair." Roy appraisingly patted Miles on his shoulder. "I've no idea how you put up with her," he whispered to him.
"I'll take it as a compliment, not that I'd want compliments from you, of all people," Olivier grunted, oblivious to the silent exchange of words.
"I don't know either," Miles muttered back to Roy, who chuckled lowly. The Ishbalan merely shrugged and stroked Olivier's leg, hoping she didn't hear him. She looked at the dark hand on her thigh, thinking how it would look with a wedding band on it.
She swiftly shook her head, erasing the image from her mind. She was getting too sappy for her taste, she should go back to her fort soon or she would go mad. She needed to stab something or she would lose her touch.
Roy was hit by a generous amount of blonde hair, giving him an idea. He put his head in his palms and leaned forward. He blew in Olivier's ear, earning himself a slap. He didn't stop and angered the woman, sending the locks she had tugged behind her ear over her eyes with each breezy breath. "Mustang, cut it out!" He took a strand of her hair and pushed it over her face. The woman elbowed him, but he continued to pull her hair and throw it over her head.
She hit him harder. She felt some new tugs from her side and more hair landed over her eyes. Miles followed Roy's risky example and set to annoying her, who was all but spitting at them. "Cut this shit out or I'll castrate both of you!" she threatened, unable to see what she was doing.
Completely unheard, the two men kept on messing with her, entangling her hair and poking at her sides. She gestured wildly, smacking them hard over whatever she could touch, probably bruising their skin. The officers were laughing hard at the woman's misery, ignoring her growing voice.
"You two are so asking for it! Just wait for it!" she shouted and jerked back, careful not to endanger her stomach. She grabbed Miles' ponytail in one hand and Mustang's fringe in the other and smacked their heads together, their skulls emitting a low clunk when they collided. The two men groaned, but their laughter didn't stop, even though it was definitely less powerful than before. She kept on fussing with her arms, slapping them vengefully. "You're bloody gits, both of you!" Her nails were cutting them with ardour.
"We surrender!" Roy groaned eventually, his scalp aching and cheeks hurting from laughter. "We yield, we yield!" Miles echoed, his hair in his eyes, which started to sting from blinking too hard. They both raised their hands in capitulation.
"Do you, now? Well, I don't accept it!" She proceeded to pinch and slap them until their skin burned. Far smaller than both of them, she ducked behind a lower stair to protect herself and continued her offensive. Her hair was grabbed in futile attempts to get rid of her, but she put her pointy fingers to good use over the two idiots who thought they could beat her.
"What the hell is going on?" Edward asked from the base of the stairs. He had heard some strange noises from the end of the hall and came to investigate. Three dishevelled heads turned to him, messy hair over their faces. "Whoa, Al, I think I've found some cavemen," he told his brother, who came behind him.
"Um... are you alright?" the younger brother asked, looking at the panting officers. All three of them had their hair badly matted and their faces were red. Mustang appeared to have some random patterned cuts on his chin and neck and Miles' already dark skin looked darker from the nail stabs he had received. Olivier seemed to be unscathed, but her hair was awfully tangled, resembling a blonde broom tail.
She merely growled as she raised from the step she had occupied, not before delivering a fresh kick to each of the chuckling men behind her. She glared and the brothers and went past them, probably to find a brush to resolve the terrible mess that has happened on her head. On the stairs, Roy and Miles were still grinning, clearly unbothered that they hurt everywhere.
His face beaming, Mustang extended his hand to the other officer, who promptly shook it. "Excellent work, Major," he praised.
"You too, General," Miles replied, congratulating his fellow for his outstanding performance. He brushed back the mane of white hair that blocked his view and looked at Al. "Can we help with the dinner preparations?"
"Err... actually, I've came to call you to dinner, we've already finished making it."
"Ah, shame," the Ishbalan said apologetically. "Excuse me," he pardoned himself and went to the kitchen, tying his hair in the usual ponytail as he walked. Al followed him, leaving Edward alone with Roy.
Ed scolded at his lover, who smirked boyishly at him. "You're all red, stupid."
Roy hummed and flexed his arms forward. "Come here," he said and pulled the smaller frame to him. He pressed their lips together hard and fervently kissed the other, deepening his ministration to the point they could barely breathe. Edward pushed him back, their faces equally hot, but from different causes. "You're an idiot," he said and kissed him back passionately.
Their mouths broke apart abruptly, but their gazes didn't. Ed looked into the depthless darkness in the brunette's eyes and started laughing. "Come on, let's get those cuts cleaned. You look like a lobster."
"Will you do it for me?" he asked with a shit-eating grin.
"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. What were you doing anyway?"
"Nothing much, let's just go to the kitchen, your grandmother will kill us if her food gets cold and we didn't get there in time." He grabbed Ed's hand and dragged him to the kitchen, where Pinako gave them some alcohol to clean the red gashes Roy was sporting over his face. She merely chuckled at them and continued her conversation with Scar, who was helping her set the dishes on the table.
If Roy were to answer truthfully to Edward's question, he would have said he was reliving some good old times. Those times when he was young and carefree, when he was still playing with balled up dirty socks. It had been a long while since he had done that, from the last time when he had scored a terribly smelling goal and have been victoriously carried by the boys he had shared a dorm with at the academy.
Those times were long gone, but in moments such as this, when he was so close to the East, his first home, he felt like the past wasn't dead. That it still lived, somewhere deep inside him. He wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, nor would he give away his present. He had all he ever needed, he had his friends laughing with him and he had his beloved partner, cleaning the cuts he had received during his prank.
If his heart could speak, it would have said he was happy.
A/N: So that's it for now, thank you very much for reading. I know it was a little too centered on the Briggs guys, but it was necessary (and I got carried away, just a bit). Anyway, the fluff is here because what's to come is not so soft, but what am I saying? Stay tuned for the next chapter, as we are nearing the end of this story.
Please don't forget to leave some feedback! Thank you so much!
Till the next time, ta-ta!