Waiting: Mother Arc: Chapter 8

Morning, and the sunlight was soft and misty through the curtains. Roy was tempted to open the sheers, because Ed was so damn beautiful in the morning sun, but that would require getting up, and he was feeling far, far too lazy and content at the moment to bother stirring. So he propped his cheek on his arm and watched his lover.

Ed squirmed down on the bed and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back like a cat and wriggling. Then he relaxed and flopped back down to the mattress with a sigh, no longer asleep but not yet ready to be awake.

Ed's shirt was ruched up under his arms from his stretch, and Roy gave in to temptation and let his hand slide across that broad, scarred chest, his palm coming to rest over a particular spot at the base of his sternum. It wasn't a scar so much as a complete lack of scars; a fist-sized patch of pale, flawless skin. There was a similar patch on the blond's back; between the two lay his heart, beating strongly now because of a little brother's love and devotion. It made Roy's own heart clench to think of it, to realize how close he had come to never knowing the best thing that had ever happened to his life.

Ed flopped his head in Roy's direction and cracked an eye open, then twisted onto his side and thumped against the older man's chest, squirming around until he was comfortable. Roy just draped an arm around his back and let himself be nudged and poked, enjoying the little contented sounds coming from his sleepy lover. The smaller man finally sighed and, with one last nudge of his head under the other man's chin, relaxed into a boneless sprawl.

Sunday mornings made the rest of the week worth it.

Alphonse was up, he usually rose before them on Sundays. Roy could hear the young man moving around downstairs. This morning there was sounds from a second person as well, the two voices engaged in some friendly banter about . . . pancakes? His lover had an odd family.

Roy smiled and pressed a kiss to the tangled blond hair tucked beneath his chin, reflecting to himself that he wouldn't want to change a thing.

"Wh—hey! Get back here with that!" Winry's voice, rising to an irritated pitch. "Al! Your stupid cat just stole my hair tie!"

"Maggie isn't my cat. . . ."

The small body in his arms stiffened as the voices faded with distance, before Winry's sharp laughter cut through the walls. Roy started to chuckle, only to break off in a hiss when strong fingers dug into his side and pinched.

"Ow, ow—that's really rather painful, Love—"

Ed growled something but let go.

"I'm sorry—" though he wasn't, "—I just find it ironic, that's all—"

"So you keep reminding me." He shifted back and sat up, giving the dark-haired man a glare that was more than half pout.

"Can't I enjoy that my lover has a soft heart?"

"No." Ed kicked his shin, but with his flesh foot, and only hard enough to make Roy wince. "Not when you call it irony."

"Only that he turned out to be a troublemaker—" Another kick cut him short. "Well, it is ironic."

The young man snorted and bounced off the bed, but his scowl kept tugging at the edges. Roy managed to keep in his own laughter until his lover was safely in the bathroom.

Winry greeted Ed at the bottom of the stairs with a grin that would have made Roy cringe if it had been directed toward him. "Oh, Eeeed-waaaard, you didn't tell me the kitty was yo-oours. . . ."

"He's not—really—mine. . . ."

"But you brought him home, riiiight?"

The young man hunched and stalked passed her, grunting in response to Al's far too cheerful and innocent "Good morning!"

Roy wasn't even trying to fight his grin at this point.

"Aw, but I think it's sweet!" Winry persisted. "Taking a poor, homeless kitty-cat in out of the rain. . . ."

"Last time I am ever that stupid."

"Yes, yes, we know," Al sang.

Ed flumped down at the table and glared at them all. "You're not ever going to let me live this down, are you."

"Nope."

"Uh-uh."

"Never."

Magpie jumped into his owner's lap and rubbed his chin.

* * *

Yu had forgotten that Amestrian libraries tended to close on Sundays; a holdover from some old religion that few still practiced, but she supposed traditions died hard. Even if it had been open, what Yu wanted was her own books that she had left back in Xing, and she had doubts that the library would have what she was looking for.

"‹Do you really think it could have been possible, Auntie?›" Li Xue asked her as they walked down the library steps.

"‹To be honest, I have no idea. I'd never thought it was anything more than a myth, before. Now I wish I'd paid more attention to it.›" After a moment, she asked, "‹How did Mei react?›"

"‹She got really quiet. I told her it was from a tabloid paper, but still, she seemed to think there was something there. Auntie. . . .›" The two women came to a park bench and sat down. "‹What do you think the princess is looking for?›"

Yu set her elbows against her knees and leaned her mouth against her folded hands. "‹You know about the Emperor. My guess . . . Mei is looking for an impossibility.›" Quietly, she added, "‹I just wish I knew for sure what impossibility.›"

"‹. . . Yes.›"

Coming to a decision, the older woman stood and turned to her niece. "‹Come. We may not be able to find that myth, but my old friend may be able to tell us more about the article.›"

Luckily, Charles was easy to find, after a simple question to the receptionist at his hotel.

The retired general looked started at their question, then frowned. "Liore? Why would you want to know about that?"

"We're not sure ourselves," Yu admitted. "But please; it may be important."

He looked between the two women, then sighed, and shrugged. "Well, I don't know how much I'll be able to help you. It wasn't exactly in my jurisdiction."

Yu gave her friend an encouraging smile as he sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

"The official word was that it was a bomb, set by the serial killer called Scar. Your boy tell you about him?"

"He mentioned something, I think."

"Well, he was this Ishvalan who was killing state alchemists. He wasn't too picky about bystanders, either. He never came out to the west, and for that I'm very grateful, but I heard his total death toll was somewhere around fifteen or twenty. He was sited in Liore just before the troops entered the city, so it was a pretty good assumption he set off whatever it was."

Yu folded her arms and shared a look with her niece, before turning back to the general. "Old friend, you'll forgive me if I'm not quick to accept the official word."

Charles shook his head with a small smile. "Same old Yu. Well, nobody who got interviewed could come up with any sort of explanation. But. . . ." He dropped his voice, even though they were the only ones in his hotel room. "Rumor is what it really looked like was some sort of alchemy gone wild. It's known that this Scar person had been using alchemy in his killings, but I've never heard of an alchemist doing anything that large—actually, that's more something I should be asking you, instead of the other way around."

"Only in legends. I cannot even imagine what a transmutation that large would take—or what it would do."

"The article," Li Xue interrupted. "It was not from a reliable newspaper, but it said that Edward-san was there when it happened."

"Yeah, I'd heard he was, come to think of it," Charles confirmed. "That's when he went AWOL. He didn't get interviewed with the others." He paused, as if considering, then continued. "One thing I do know—a bomb would leave debris. I didn't go there to see for myself, but I heard there wasn't much left of the city but sand."

"Oh?"

"That's the word."

"I see. . . ."

"What are you thinking, Yu . . .?"

"Alchemy . . . cannot make material vanish, any more than a bomb could. It can only change it. I don't . . . know what this could be."

The large man sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "A lot of good people died that day. I know I'd like to know what really happened."

"I don't mean to sound uncaring," Yu said, "but at the moment I am more concerned with how someone may use this information in the future."

"‹Maybe this is why Mei was being so friendly yesterday,›" Li Xue muttered.

"‹Yes, I had that thought, too. If she suspects Edward-san can give her what she wants. . . .›"

"Hey, hey, no fair, ladies."

Yu smiled at her old friend. "My apologies; we were speculating."

"And? I have to say, I'd really like to know what's going on."

"So would we." She shared a look with her niece, considering. "Remember when I said I'd had a good view of Edward-san's temper?"

"Yes?"

"The other day he and Princess Mei started yelling at each other. They became quite angry. It makes us suspicious that she would then be so friendly, as she was yesterday." She paused a moment, then added, "We suspected Mei had reasons for coming here she was not telling us. Now we are trying to figure out what."

"What does this have to do with Liore?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure it's Liore specifically that she's interested in, but there was something in that article that intrigued her. I just wish I knew why."

* * *

Roy narrowed his single eye, concentrating on the small pile of rocks, then snapped his fingers.

"Your field of effect is still pretty wide," Ed commented from where he was sitting, off to the side. "But at least you hit the cairn."

"Thank you ever so much for that assessment."

The young man grinned at him, and Roy suppressed the urge to sigh. Truthfully, Ed was being helpful—first by agreeing to come out here with him at all, and then in finding this old quarry site—but Roy was feeling frustrated.

"This isn't exactly easy, you know," he continued.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. You're actually doing pretty good."

He paused in the act of raising his hand and glanced at his lover.

"What? Can't I complement you?"

"You've been nitpicking me for the last half hour."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, duh, that's because you're finally at the nitpicking point."

Roy lowered his hand and looked at him for a moment, but then merely smirked and turned back to the target.

Twenty minutes or so later Roy felt that he was finally starting to get the hang of things. Each try took much longer to gauge than before, and his precision wasn't there, but he was hitting more than not and there wasn't too large of a scorched area around the cairn.

"Not bad," Edward commented, then flashed him a grin. "Ready for something a bit harder?"

Roy paused and blinked at the younger man. "Huh?"

The blond bounced to his feet and ran over to a flat-sided boulder that was about ten feet high. Standing on tip-toes, he searched the stone until he found a suitable chink, then jabbed in a stick and stood back to admire his work.

"There." He pointed to a small bundle of twigs dangling about a foot below the far end of the stick. "Try hitting that."

Roy squinted at the bundle. "Ed, I can barely even see that."

"Then it'll be a good challenge, won't it?" He grinned again and came back along side the older man. "You've been using the ground to try to gauge distance. That's fine if your target's standing still, but what if it's not? So," he pointed to the twigs again, "try that. With small explosions."

He wasn't going to admit it, but his lover was right. The Flame had always prided himself on being able to intercept small targets in mid-air. A cairn of stones wasn't going to help him get that back.

Roy raised his hand, then hesitated. He couldn't use the distance to the boulder as a gauge because of the angle of the stick. A small breeze was making the twigs sway, adding even more difficulty. He sighed, figured the worst he could do was miss, and snapped.

Too close.

Again.

Over compensated. He'd scorched the boulder with that one.

Again.

"I think you singed the edges that time. A little."

He allowed himself a small smile, and tried again.

Sometime later Roy peeled his gloves off and stuffed them in his pocket, trying not to let on how frustrated he was. True, he'd hit the twigs a few times, but more from accident than skill. This was going to take time.

"It must be past lunch already," he said, trying to rub some of the tension out of his shoulder and neck. "Why don't we head back?"

"In a bit." Ed walked back from inspecting the scorch marks, and then, incredibly, settled into a fighting stance, grinning. "Spar with me first."

Roy paused and blinked at the younger man. "What?"

"Come on!" He pushed at his shoulder, a move meant to goad him into retaliating. "You're all tense from concentrating. Spar with me!"

It had been an exchange, of sorts. Roy had taught Edward how to dance, and in return, Ed had taught Roy to spar. It had worked out well; Roy found that he liked sparring, and, though he would never get the younger man to admit it, he suspected Ed liked dancing. Ordinarily he would enjoy a chance to spar with his lover. However:

"Here?"

"Why not?"

"Edward, we're in the middle of a quarry! This is not the sort of surface I'd care to fall on."

"What, this? This is nothing, it's still mostly dirt! Besides, you should know how to take a fall by now." He made another strike, far from serious but one calculated to force the older man to either dodge or block. "Come on, spar!"

Seeing that there was no deterring the energetic blond, Roy sighed and dropped into one of the defensive stances Ed had taught him.

"About time, old man!" He struck again, and Roy deflected the punch. "But don't just dodge, come at me! It's not like you'd actually be able to hurt me."

"And you call me arrogant."

Ed laughed, dancing out of the way of the older man's hesitant blow. "Aw, I fought better than that when I was ten."

Roy just grunted, deciding he shouldn't waste any more energy on words if he was to have any hope of landing a blow.

They both knew it wouldn't be an even fight. To say Ed was going easy on him would be an understatement. In addition to half a lifetime of practice, the younger man seemed to have a natural awareness of his body that Roy could only marvel at. He knew Ed didn't spar with him for the challenge.

It wasn't long before Roy started to enjoy himself; he stopped over thinking each move and simply relax into the rhythm of the back and forth. He still couldn't land a blow, while Ed had landed several (pulled strikes, which meant he was in the mood to tease rather than give him a serious workout), but it stopped being quite so important.

And then, Roy misjudged his footing, or didn't properly correct his balance, and a strike he couldn't dodge sent him over backwards. In a split second of panic he tried to remember everything he'd learned about rolling with the momentum and dispersing the energy of the fall and could only pray that there were no large rocks set to intercept his head—

—And then a metal arm clamped around the small of his back, and he found himself braced against a small, but very sturdy, body.

"You didn't really think I'd let you take a fall here, did you?" Edward said, his nose pressed to Roy's cheek, beneath the eye patch.

The older man smiled, and let himself relax against his young lover.

Snickering, Ed nuzzled his jaw for a moment before letting go. "Come on, Bastard. Let's go get something to eat."

It wasn't until they were making their way back to the car that he realized something: he hadn't been bothered by memories and flashbacks. Not since Ed had set up that second target. He must have been too busy concentrating; and then too distracted by his lover. When Ed's fingers brushed shyly against his palm he gave the automail hand a squeeze, trying to convey his gratitude.

"I tried fire alchemy once," Ed commented. "Ages ago."

"Oh?"

The young man gave their joined hands an embarrassed sort of jiggle. "Singed my bangs and nearly burned down the dorms."

"Wait, you were inside when you decided to try fire alchemy?"

"I didn't think it would get away from me! I underestimated the rate of combustion." He huffed, then muttered, "And I may have overestimated the amount of oxygen needed."

Roy chuckled. "Clearly."

"Al made me promise never to try it again. Or if I did, to make sure I was in the middle of a lake or a snow drift or something. Didn't think it'd be so fucking hard. You made it look easy."

Roy smirked, more warmed by the offhand comment than he was going to let on. Ed didn't toss complements out lightly.

"This was when you were twelve, right?" he said instead. "I think I remember you suddenly having shorter bangs."

"Eh? There's no way you can remember that."

"It was not long after you'd returned from your first assignment, wasn't it?"

"You're shitting me—why would you remember something like that?"

"I probably wouldn't, except that when you came into the office, Breda made a comment about it and you nearly took his head off—"

"—I'd totally forgotten about that."

"I had to see what the fuss was about, and I remember noting that your bangs were several inches shorter and wondering why."

"Several—? It wasn't that much. Maybe an inch."

"Oh, it was at least two inches."

"An inch and a half. At the most."

He laughed and gave the other man's hand another squeeze. "Are you sure? We could ask Alphonse, he probably remembers."

"I'm sure he doesn't remember something like that," he said, too quickly.

Roy only laughed.

* * *

A small used book store was their best resource at the moment. The two women scanned the section on mythology and legends, looking for anything that might deal with vanishing populations.

"‹This one has legends from Creta. They often have fantastical elements.›"

"‹No, I'm sure this was Amestrian.›" Yu pulled a book from the shelf, then sighed and replaced it.

"‹Maybe we should try books on history.›"

"‹Maybe.›"

"History of Automail to 1900—is that a first printing?"

Both women turned, intrigued by the excitement in the familiar voice.

"Oh my god, it is!" the young woman squealed. "Those are impossible to find!"

"I know; that's why I set it aside when it came in." Alphonse was grinning at his friend. "Granny's in here—look!" He opened the book and flipped to a marked page before passing it over.

"Oh, wow, she looks so young." Winry snickered. "'The pantheress of Resembool.'"

"I guess she really made a name for herself. She never talks about it."

Yu had to smile at the pair. She'd noted the day before that Alphonse seemed to have certain feelings for his older friend.

"Hey, is that your dad in the background?"

"Yeah, I think so." The boy moved to look over her shoulder. "They were drinking buddies back then."

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that. Speaking of your dad—you know what I noticed yesterday? Ed's always complaining about how much he looks like his father, but his glasses—"

"—Are almost identical to Dad's, I know. I can't quite bring myself to say anything about it."

"Knowing Ed, he'd probably deny it."

"Or say that they were the only frames available."

Winry laughed. "And he'd insist that it didn't mean anything."

"And we were reading far too much into it."

Something clicked as Yu looked at the serpent-and-cross emblem on the boy's back and she grabbed her niece's arm.

"Come on, there's something else I want to show you." Alphonse took the girl's hand and gave it a tug. "They're in back!"

"‹Auntie, what is it?›" Li Xue asked after the two had disappeared.

"‹Maybe nothing—but something struck me, just now. Li Xue, when you were evaluating the symbol those boys wear, I don't think you were necessarily wrong, but—I'm not sure you were right, either.›"

The younger woman frowned. "‹How do you mean?›"

"‹A cross can be restraints, but it also means death to at least one old religion from this area. A snake can mean wisdom or knowledge, but it can also symbolize rebirth. A crown is wisdom, but also power. Add the wings to that. . . .›"

"‹Death, rebirth, power, and freedom. I'm not sure I understand.›"

"‹But it's something an alchemist would. The freedom of power, power over life and death, perhaps freedom from death.›" She sighed. "‹Another thing I thought was no more than a legend.›"

"‹More legends.›"

"‹Yes. But one that may have been enough to entice the princess to cross the desert.›"

Omake: Ed and the kitten

About one month ago:

Ed scowled at the downpour. Of all the days to walk to the library. . . . He sighed, turned up his collar, and stepped out. He'd probably get a lecture when he got home about paying attention to the weather. But it hadn't looked like rain this morning, and he'd only intended to be out for an hour or two—

Maaaoooowwww. . . .

The young man stopped, cocking an ear toward the sound.

Maaowaaawww. . . .

No. If the cat was stupid enough to get caught out in the rain, that was its problem. He shook his head, spraying water from his bangs, and took another step.

Meeewww. . . .

He stopped again. It sounded so little. . . .

No.

Lighting flashed, followed by thunder, and he caught sight of the miserable little furball as it scrambled behind the library's sign.

Ed sighed and, berating himself the whole time, walked over the sign and crouched down.

The cat, which couldn't have been more than seven or eight months old, looked up hopefully and edged toward him. Maaaoowaaaoowww. . . .

"Go home, stupid cat."

Meeeewwww. . . .

"No. I am not taking you home. You must live around here, go home!"

Maaaoow!

"I can't believe I'm talking to a cat." Against his better judgment, Ed reached out a hand. The kitten sniffed his fingers, then butted its forehead against his knuckles. "Thought so. You're too friendly to be a stray. Go home."

Thunder cracked again, and the kitten yowled and scrambled.

Edward sighed and hid his face in his hand, trying to ignore the feline that was cowering against his shins.

Meeeewww. . . .

"Fuck it."

The cat let out a startled squawk as he scooped it up, and Ed made a face as he stuffed the squirming, wet bundle of fur inside his coat. "You better appreciate this, you stupid flea bag," he said as he settled the kitten into the crook of his arm and stood, "because I am never, ever going to live this down."

A soft vibrating against his chest was the only answer.