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batsutousaiTitle: Dreaming in Red and Gold
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, minor battering of female OC, female-specific slurs, off-screen torture of prisoners, suggestion of past abusive sexual encounters, sexual discussions (including consent-related)
Summary: When Drachma agrees to meet for peace talks at Briggs Fortress, General Roy Mustang is the one sent to represent Amestris. It just so happens that the Drachmans have their own Amestrisan, who is far too skilled at turning the most tedious of discussions into an exciting time.
A/N: Scene of a sexual nature near the end of this chapter, mild enough that I felt safe putting it on FFN. XD
Unmarked because I suck that way.
"Sir," Falman called after they'd collected their food, as they were approaching the station.
Roy leant forward, over Ed's shoulder, and sighed at the line of military jackets that awaited them. He was sure the line of blue was meant to be impressive, but with his limited colour vision, it was just a line of darker grey interspersed with the gold of the uniform braids. "Major General Welrod," he assumed.
Ed glanced back at him, gold eyes narrowed. "How much of a pain in the arse is this going to be?"
Roy felt his mouth tighten. "He's not a bad officer, but Lieutenant General Armstrong isn't impressed with him; she seems to think he wouldn't survive more than a day up at Briggs."
"You don't like him," Ed guessed.
Roy sat back, drawing on his best untouchable mask. "He didn't appreciate my rapid promotion. For the sake of getting through this with the least amount of wasted time, please pretend you know what diplomacy means."
"Fuck you," Ed retorted before rattling something off in Drachman and quickly doing his hood back up.
"He says he does not speak Amestrisan," Anastasia translated. "He is just here to punch people who get ideas."
"Some things never change," Roy muttered, and Anastasia laughed as she did up her own hood. "Major," he added as they pulled to a stop outside the station.
Falman met his gaze in the rear-view mirror. "Understood, sir," he agreed to the orders that Roy didn't need to speak.
Roy quickly stepped out onto the pavement once the car stopped, striding forward with the easy pace of an officer who trusted his men to handle things. "Major General Welrod," he called once he was in range to not have to shout.
Welrod saluted him with a sickly sort of smile. "General Mustang. I heard that important dignitaries from Drachma would be travelling back to Central with you."
Roy gave a careless roll of his shoulders, clasping his hands together behind his back. "Some ambassadors, some guards," he replied. "Important enough in terms of the treaty, I expect, but nothing that requires this." He looked pointedly along the line of soldiers.
Welrod looked vaguely discomfited by that. "I was given to believe–"
"I can guess what you were told by whatever ears you have attuned to Briggs," Roy interrupted, his voice hard, because the last thing he wanted was to stand out in the cold and hold up their train while Welrod made a big to-do about Drachma's crown heir visiting Amestris. He glanced at the faintly shivering lieutenant colonel standing just behind and slightly to one side of Welrod, then past her, along the other soldiers, many of whom were showing similar signs of feeling the cold, and Roy could only guess how long they'd been forced to stand outside, given that his party had stopped on the way. "Dismissed!" he snapped, before gentling his tone and adding, "Lieutenant Colonel, please take everyone inside and see that they're given a hot drink."
The lieutenant colonel's salute was grateful as she stiffly replied, "Sir!" then turned to set about following his orders.
"Mustang," Welrod hissed, stepping forward so he was in Roy's personal space. "You don't have the right to come into my city–"
"Only idiots force their troops to stand out in the cold without letting them wear coats, Major General," Roy hissed back, not bothering to hide his fury. "I'm sure the line of blue is aesthetically pleasing to someone, but if I find you doing that again, damn public opinion, I will have you knocked back down to corporal so fast, your head will spin. Am. I. Clear?"
"Crystal," Welrod gritted out, stepping back.
Roy turned away from him, towards where his team, the Drachmans, and the Kozlovas were waiting a few paces back. "Colonel Hawkeye, please install the ambassadors and their guards in their compartments," he ordered and Riza saluted before motioning for everyone to follow her. "Major Kozlova, have you located your belongings?"
Francine motioned with the military-issue suitcase in her left hand. "Yes, sir."
"Then please follow Colonel Hawkeye."
"Roy," Andrea said, stepping past her sister and casting a pleading look towards him.
Roy shook his head. "You're to remain here, Major."
"Yes," Welrod blustered as he stepped up next to Roy, clearly having regained his sense of self-importance. "The orders for your sister to be sent to Central came from the Führer himself–" Roy suspected Olivier had called in a favour, for that one, or falsified the orders "–but there was nothing about you leaving your post as well."
Andrea's jaw tightened, and Roy recognised that expression from Ishval, where it had never heralded a peaceful response. He quickly stepped forward and grabbed her shoulder. "Andrea," he said, keeping his voice quiet, "I need you here. That stunt he just pulled? I need to know if he does it again."
She met his gaze and he could see her giving in, unwilling as it was. "You keep my sister safe, Roy Mustang," she whispered. "And you keep them safe."
"I swear," Roy promised. "No one will be wandering around Central alone." Because she had been Maes' friend too, and that was the official story, that he'd been killed while alone at night.
She gave a sharp nod, then turned and stalked back towards the cars.
Roy allowed himself a silent sigh, then resettled his expression into something matching the weather and turned back to Welrod. "If that's all, Major General? I don't intend to keep the train waiting."
Welrod's jaw clenched and he gave Roy a tight salute. "Yes, sir."
Roy nodded and stepped past him.
No one stopped him as he stepped onto the train, and he quickly retired to the military car. He was grateful to see that the door connecting them to the rest of the train locked from the inside and firmly turned that lock, then started down the hall, wondering who had picked which compartments.
Ed poked his head out of the compartment two down, gold eyes dancing. "And you told me to be diplomatic."
"You're a civilian, with a history of destroying public property, here representing a foreign country," Roy replied drily as he reached Ed, and Havoc started laughing from one of the other compartments, while the former alchemist grinned at him, unrepentant. "If you had got involved, we'd have had an international incident, a destroyed train station, or both on our hands. When I tell him off, he has to salute me and say, 'yes, sir'. Move."
"Fuck you, sir," Ed retorted, but he moved back into the compartment all the same, letting Roy inside.
Riza and Anastasia were both seated in the compartment, taking up one bench, and Ed flopped back onto the other one as Roy nodded to them both. They'd clearly already started in on the food they'd stopped for on their way, paper bags opened next to each of them.
"Here," Ed called, waving the bag of take-out that Roy had left for Falman to collect at him. "Sit down and eat."
"Thank you," Roy murmured as he took the offering and settled onto the same bench. As he pulled out his food, he commented, "Colonel, it seems the car door locks."
"It seems so, sir," Riza agreed.
Roy nodded. "Let's keep it that way."
"Of course, sir. I promise to shoot you if you forget."
"Appreciated," Roy muttered while Ed choked on a laugh. "Edward, did you need lessons in eating?"
"Fuck you."
They all settled in to eat in silence after that, and the train started moving out as they did so.
Once they were done, Anastasia politely requested, "Should we expect a similar greeting in your Central City?"
"Very likely," Roy admitted, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. "If we're lucky, however, the Führer will listen to me and simply send a few cars to collect us, and the welcoming will be awaiting us at Central Command. If that's the case, we can stop to drop off our luggage and blame traffic on the delay."
Ed snorted. "Yeah. Hey, so, what sort of accommodations are we looking at? Is everyone bunking at whatever building the military claimed for Innokenti?"
Roy traded a grimace with Riza. "Unfortunately, the building set aside for the Drachman ambassador only has four furnished bedrooms, with the rest of the space made up as other functional rooms." He shook his head. "We can put most of your party up in a hotel."
"There are some nice hotels in Central," Ed said, his tone hard, "but their security is for shit."
Roy forced a strained smile and turned to Ed. "We just don't have the accommodations for diplomatic parties, Edward. We can put a guard rotation in the hall–"
"It was a member of the military who went fucking nuts last time!" Ed shot back. "There aren't enough people in the military that you trust implicitly, not in Central, and we both know it! And what about when Al and Winry get there and I'm stuck on the couch because Winry has to bitch over the state of my leg?"
"I can't create miracles out of thin air," Roy said, trying to keep his tone moderated.
Riza cleared her throat, bringing them both around to stare at her. "I might remind the General that he has two perfectly acceptable guest rooms for the Drachman royals, and a sufficiently comfortable couch for Tsarevna Natalia's guard in the study." She focussed on Ed as Roy blinked, realising that was quite true. "It's as secure as we could make it, and the only military personal that live within a four block radius are loyal, including myself and Lieutenant Colonels Havoc and Breda. There's a tunnel in the kitchen that leads down into the sewers, which the general built himself and so exists on no city blueprints, if you need an escape route."
Ed settled back against the bench, his expression mulish, like he knew this was the best possible option, but he wasn't quite ready to stop complaining. "And where am I supposed to sleep in all of this?"
Riza just stared at him, unimpressed, leaving it for Anastasia to ever-so-innocently say, "Roy's room, I should think."
Ed's cheekbones developed that shading of pink that was becoming familiar. "Oh," he said, glancing towards Roy.
Roy shrugged. "If you want to," he agreed.
Ed cleared his throat. "Yes, of course I–" He stopped and cast a glance between Roy and Anastasia, clearly only just realising something. "Since when have you two been on a first name basis?" he demanded.
"Since Anya decided not to throw me off the battlements," Roy replied drily.
Ed made a complaint in Drachman, and Anastasia offered an amused response in the same language.
Roy sighed, guessing he was unlikely to get a translation of that. "Colonel, please let everyone know about the locked door and the accommodations in Central."
Riza nodded as she stood. "And Major Kozlova?"
Roy frowned at that, recalling his promise to Andrea. "She's welcome to stay in the Drachman embassy, to act as additional security for the ambassador, or we can make something up for her in the dorms." He narrowed his eyes at her, spotting the faint signs in her greyscale eyes. "Unless you had a different idea."
Riza's mouth kicked up slightly at one side. "You're not the only one with a spare guest room, sir," she pointed out.
"Hm. It's her choice."
Riza inclined her head, then stepped out of their compartment.
Ed touched Roy's shoulder. "Did you tell her?" he asked quietly.
Roy levelled a bland look at the blond. "Edward, she's been my adjunct for almost thirteen years; she knows my secrets before I do, most of the time."
Ed snorted at that, his mouth kicking up on one side. "You don't care?" he asked, and there was more than one question in that, more than one person he was asking about.
Roy met his eyes. "I trust my team, and I trust your family." And, though he wouldn't be saying so any time soon, while it was true that homosexuality wasn't always met with smiles, especially in the military, being with the former Fullmetal Alchemist wouldn't harm Roy's political standing. Not that he had any real intention in publicly announcing it; some matters were best kept private, especially when they were still as new as this. "And I trust Major Kozlova's discretion." He suspected she'd pass the news on to Olivier and Andrea at the first opportunity, but Andrea was a friend, and he doubted Olivier would care, though she might try to use it as leverage, if she thought it would prove useful. He looked towards Anastasia, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Natalia will be fine, but I will ensure the silence of the others," the Tsesarevna promised quietly, her eyes hard.
"Good," Ed decided, and Roy suddenly found a golden-blond head pressing against his shoulder. "Sleeping against train windows suck."
"Says the man who used to sleep on a suit of armour," Roy muttered, shifting back into the corner where the bench and the wall met, so Ed could rest his head on his chest, instead.
"Shut up," Ed muttered into Roy's coat, even as he shifted into what appeared to be a more comfortable position. "Al was comfortable."
Roy wrapped an arm around Ed's waist, securing him against any changes in the train's movements, and pressed his lips to the top of his head. "Get some sleep, Ed."
He and Anastasia were both quiet as Ed's breathing evened out, and Roy rolled his eyes at the proof that Al hadn't been lying about Ed falling right to sleep on trains. "You're impossible," he whispered.
Anastasia let out a quiet snort. "I do not think he got much sleep last night."
"No," Roy agreed, because Ed hadn't skipped dinner like Roy had, yet he'd still been up disgustingly early. "It's fine; one of us should get some sleep on this blasted train."
Anastasia smiled at him. "I remember you saying you do not sleep on trains. It is because the seats are not comfortable?"
Roy carefully shrugged the shoulder Ed wasn't half resting on and nodded. "Mostly. But, too–" he motioned towards the open compartment door "–it's not very secure. Colonel Hawkeye trained herself to learn the native sounds of her position and wake up if they change, but I never developed the same skill." Which wasn't quite a lie, because he had trouble adapting to the sounds of a moving train, but he had developed the skill in Ishval, same as Riza, had had to, and while he had attuned to the movements of Maes and Riza and his squad (and had since attuned himself to his team and, very likely, Ed and Al, though he'd never had the chance to test it with the brothers), his immediate reaction to any other changes was to snap. Which wasn't a problem if he took his gloves off before he fell asleep or he was in an acknowledged hostile situation, but it would be a nightmare on a train.
Anastasia nodded in understanding. "If you are willing, I am happy to teach you more Drachman for so long as these seats keep me awake."
Roy offered her a grateful smile; he really needed to remember to pack reading material next time he was going to be stuck on a train. "I would appreciate that."
So they settled in to do so, Riza joining them shortly after they'd started.
Somehow, not long after Riza and Anastasia had both dozed off, Roy had managed to do to same, and he suspected it was due entirely to the warm weight on his chest. His internal clock suggested he couldn't have slept for more than two hours, and he was just wondering what had woken him when he glanced across the compartment and found Riza's eyes open, barely visible in the darkness. 'Car door,' she mouthed.
Roy kept from tensing, barely, and carefully started to slide out from under Ed.
A hand fisted in his coat and Roy looked down to find Ed blinking blearily up at him. Before either of them could say anything, the sound of someone trying to force the car door came again, and Ed's eyes hardened, immediately awake.
Together, the three of them slipped from their compartment. Roy used quick military hand signals to tell Riza to remain in the doorway, keeping an eye on Anastasia, then motioned for himself and Ed to continue to the door that led to the civilian cars, where the noise was coming from.
Once they got close enough, they could hear the murmur of confused voices on the other side, and Roy motioned for Ed to stay back, which he did with a scowl, before rapidly unlocking and opening the door with one hand, snapping with the other hand and carefully lighting a small flame over his fingers.
The two men on the step between train cars stumbled back, their eyes going wide. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" Roy asked in his iciest voice.
"Oh, shit," one of them got out.
"W-we was je-jest lookin' fer the d-dinin' car," the other one stuttered.
"I would suggest trying the other direction," Roy suggested coolly.
The pair of them fled.
Roy didn't let the flame go until he'd closed and locked the car door again. When he turned back around, he found Havoc and Orlov standing outside the compartment just past Roy's, while Francine and Lagunov stood in the doorway of the one closest to him. Ed had retreated a few steps, standing between Francine and Riza, which left enough room for Roy to have retreated a couple of steps if necessary. All of the military personal had pulled out their sidearms – Francine had clearly judged the quarters too tight to use her sword – and the two Drachmans and Ed all held the glint of something metallic in their hands – knives, Roy assumed. "All clear," he called.
"Vse chisto," Ed added, and Orlov and Lagunov relaxed and put their weapons away a half-beat after the Amestrisans.
They all filtered back into their compartments, shoulders slumping as the adrenaline drained away, and Roy debated the pros and cons of raiding their coffee stash as he made his way back down to his compartment.
Anastasia was awake inside, her eyes dark and alert as she listened to whatever Ed was saying in Drachman. Roy was vaguely proud to recognise the occasional word – he seemed to be explaining the abrupt wake-up – but he shook his head and glanced towards Riza questioningly. She grimaced and nodded in response, so Roy went to collect them both some coffee. He grabbed a third cup as well, for either Ed or Anastasia, if either wanted it, or just so Roy didn't have to walk back down the car again once he'd drained his cup.
Anastasia gladly took the third cup, while Ed helped himself to Roy's. "Go get your own," Roy quietly ordered as he took his cup back. "This is my sludge."
Ed's eyes glinted in the half-light of their compartment, which Riza had turned on when it became apparent they would all be up for a while. "That stuff will kill you, you know," he said, also keeping his voice down in deference to the thin walls between them and their sleeping companions in the compartments on either side of them. "I'm just trying to save your life."
Roy held his hand away when Ed grabbed for his cup again. "If you'd entered the military the proper way, Mr Elric, you would be aware that they deliver immunisations against the deadly effects of military coffee during training; I have no fear of this sludge."
Ed turned to Riza. "He's full of shit," he said.
And Riza, bless her, said with a straight face, "He's not."
Ed looked between them disbelievingly while Anastasia hid her giggles in her cup. "No," he insisted. When Roy and Riza answered by taking simultaneous sips of their coffee, Ed threatened, "Don't make me wake up Falman; he can't lie to save his life."
"You assume Major Falman would say anything different," Riza replied, clearly happy to continue with the joke.
But Roy had had his fun – and he honestly wouldn't put it past Ed to wake up all the other military members in the car to find one of them unwilling to play along – so he held his cup back out to Ed as a peace offering. "No, there aren't any immunisations, but someone could probably do a medical study on the tolerance levels of those soldiers who have been drinking it for years."
"You're a bastard," Ed informed him, snatching the cup. Then he turned to Riza and promised, "I'll remember this."
Riza smiled, faint but there. "I'm sorry, Edward, but it really was too good a chance to pass up."
"You both suck," Ed informed them as he settled back against Roy's shoulder, the cup of coffee held safely out of danger.
Roy took the cup and quickly rearranged them both back to their previous position. "Is it the rocking?" he asked, admittedly baffled by the fact that the military-grade coffee wasn't keeping Ed awake.
"Fuck off," Ed mumbled.
'How?' he mouthed at Riza, and she hid a smile in her coffee cup. Next to her, Anastasia wasn't bothering to hide her smile, and she shrugged when Roy looked askance at her.
"When should we reach your Central City?" Anastasia asked as Ed's breathing started to even out.
Roy and Riza both looked towards the window, as though they actually knew enough about the area north of Central to make a guess based on what they could see outside. Roy did know, however, that they'd already long passed the last town the train stopped at in the northern area, and he suspected they'd already crossed over the border into the central area. On the military supply train, this part of the trip had taken almost eight hours, but they'd only slowed down slightly to go through the towns, whereas this train would be stopping at each one.
"According to the timetable Major Falman cited me earlier, we're due to arrive at Central Station around noon," Riza offered.
Roy carefully switched his coffee to the hand wrapped around Ed's waist, then pulled out his pocket watch. "A little over nine hours," he said after calculating the time. He slipped his watch back away, offering, "If you can get some more sleep, do so." He glanced at Riza, including her in the suggestion, and she inclined her head.
"Once this wears off," Anastasia agreed, motioning with her coffee. "Ed said he had finished the translation of the treaty?"
"It's out of order," Roy warned, and Anastasia shrugged. "Everything's in my suitcase." He glanced down at Ed and sighed. "Colonel, if you could?"
"Just this once, sir," Riza agreed with an amused smile as she stood. Anastasia wordlessly offered to hold her coffee, so Riza handed it over before picking out Roy's suitcase and efficiently withdrawing the documents, without airing about Roy's dirty laundry (which she had done, once, when he'd pushed her too far while learning alchemy under her father's tutelage). She put his suitcase back up in the overhang and traded Anastasia her coffee for the mess of paperwork as she sat back down. "Are my notes in there?" she asked Roy as Anastasia sighed over the mess and began separating everything.
"Possibly," Roy allowed. "I'm not certain. I don't remember seeing them on the table where I'd left them after Ed took over my room as his office, so it's entirely possible."
"Some of these are hand-written," Anastasia offered.
"Then, yes, they're in that pile." Roy sipped at his coffee as Riza leant across the bench she shared with Anastasia to help organise the three piles. "Thank you, Colonel, for the laugh, by the way."
Riza cast him a glance, a hint of amusement in her eyes, barely visible between Roy's ruined vision and the low light. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," she told him.
Roy smiled into his cup and didn't push the matter.
Once all the paperwork was organised, Anastasia sat back with the Drachman copy and a pen that Roy had found in his pocket, while Riza took a look over the Amestrisan copy with her own pen. Roy was left with Riza's transcription, and he glanced through it again just for something to do.
When Anastasia finished reading her copy of the treaty, she asked for the one Riza was reading, which she handed over. "May I?" Roy requested, motioning towards the Drachman copy.
Anastasia cast him an amused look, but leant forward to pass it over. "You realise we use a different alphabet," she said just before Roy got a look at the document.
Roy stared at the unfamiliar letters for a moment, then turned his gaze on the blond head resting against his chest. "Dammit, Ed," he muttered, and Anastasia muffled a snicker into the Amestrisan copy of the treaty.
He spent a while staring at the different alphabet, not really seeing it. He supposed, when he thought about it, that the shapes resembled some of the runes used in some of the older and more complex alchemy arrays, which he knew had been brought over by Father from Xerxesian alchemy. Given that Ed had admitted to knowing some written Xerxesian, it shouldn't have been so surprising that he'd picked up the Drachman alphabet.
Roy sighed to himself and glanced down at the gold head. He wanted to ask why Ed had settled on him, why the genius former alchemist, who could have had anyone in the world, had shown affection to Roy. Surely there were people out there who could keep up with him better, who hadn't turned their focus to one type of alchemy and stopped, who hadn't sold their soul to the military out of some naïve belief that they were being sent out to protect the people of Amestris.
Of course, Anastasia had hit on a large portion of it: Ed and Roy had shared darkness in their pasts, knew more of the things that haunted each others' nightmares than most of the other people in their lives. Al and Riza, Chris, Miss Rockbell...
Roy closed his eyes and let his head drop forward, breathing in the lingering scent of cold and motor oil in Ed's hair. There was one other thing they shared, something which only two other people currently living could hope to understand the meaning behind: a stone Gate on an endless white plain, and the figure standing in front of it, mocking them as it stole away the most important physical aspect to each trespasser.
So maybe, in the end, Roy could understand why Ed had chosen him, why he'd taken a chance and sat on Roy's bed that morning when he knew Anastasia was dragging him away to tell him what Ed likely never would have, what Roy never would have figured out on his own.
"Sir?" Riza called, her voice pitched quiet enough that, had Roy actually been asleep, he would have slept through it.
Roy raised his head and looked across at her. "Colonel?" he returned just as quietly.
She raised her own cup. "Refill?"
He glanced towards Anastasia, only to find that she'd managed to doze off while his thoughts had been meandering. "Please," he murmured, holding out his own cup. "I thought I saw some pastries," he added, because two cups of military-grade sludge on a mostly empty stomach was a recipe for trouble.
"I'll see what I can find," Riza promised before slipping from the compartment.
She returned with the cups of coffee and a pastry for each of them, and Roy set aside the papers he'd forgotten he was holding so he could eat.
"Vato passed on some intel," Riza offered once they were both left with just their coffee, and she pulled a sheet of paper out of the pocket inside her jacket.
Roy held out his hand for it and she handed it over with the pen she'd pulled out earlier. "Anything else?"
"A few things," she agreed and filled him in on the observations she had made while wandering Briggs before lunch and the gossip Havoc had managed to get from the soldiers assigned to their hall over cards. She eventually settled in to get some sleep after refilling Roy's coffee again, leaving him to look over Falman's notes in silence.
Between the three of them, they'd come up with a few rumours trickling up from North City, most of them originating in other cities in the north, which bore investigation, and Roy made a few notes to himself on the back of one of the pages of Riza's transcript, so he wouldn't chance forgetting when he made to pass the news on to Breda or Chris.
Falman had delivered four names that he remembered having strong ties to other members of the brass wandering Briggs, and two others that had struck him as suspicious. One of the suspicious ones Roy was about eighty percent certain answered to Grumman, though he'd have to check through the records, and he suspected the man was there as much to get an accurate report for the Führer, as he was to serve as a go-between if Amestris went to shit again. The other suspicious person Roy didn't have the first clue about, but he'd run the name past Breda before he went hunting through the records and upset one of the investigations he kept sneaking in under Lieutenant Colonel Fokker's nose.
As for the four nearly certain spies, Roy would drop their names onto Alex's desk and leave it for him to get the word back to Olivier, though he suspected she was already aware of them. Still, she might be willing to confirm Roy's suspicions, and since three of the brass they were spying for were in Central, Roy could run his own covert surveillance on them. With any luck, he would know about it before they made any moves against Roy or his allies, and he could easily thwart them.
Sometimes, Roy really hated the military, with its barely-visible anthills seething with suspicion and treachery, but a huge part of him enjoyed the games, the small victories found only in the glares his opponents threw him from across the officer's mess. A childhood living in the back of a brothel fronting an intelligence-gathering operation had left him with an honest appreciation for the flow of information that took place just under the surface of the military's stern-faced façade, and years standing at Grumman's side and watching him direct the flows of information to the ears where they'd do the most good had left him with a talent for making the use of every rumour that filtered up to him.
If Father and Bradley had done anything right, it was to give Roy access to alliances he'd never have had the daring to go after before. From Grumman and the eastern forces, to the Armstrongs and Briggs, to Scar and the Ishvalans, to the current Emperor of Xing and his favourite half-sister, Roy's reach had nearly quadrupled in size over the course of a year.
And now, again; because of Ed, he was on a first name basis with the crown princess of Drachma, which extended his reach up north, past Briggs and the mountains. If he could work treaties with Creta and Aerugo, even without the strong political ties he'd made this time, he would have more than enough power to do the one thing he wanted more than anything else: He could keep his people safe.
Roy leant his head down, towards the golden head resting over his heart, and whispered, "Thank you."
Ed shifted slightly. "For what?" he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.
"Being you," Roy offered, because Ed had been at least half the reason he'd managed an alliance with both Olivier and Emperor Ling.
Ed's head tilted and Roy found himself looking into two spots of gold that were far more awake than his voice had suggested. They watched each other for a moment, and Roy saw understanding bleeding into the gold; whatever he was reading from Roy's own eyes clearly answered whatever questions his comment had given birth to. "Did you finish your coffee?" Ed asked at last.
Roy felt himself smile. "Yes, but I should probably stretch my legs, if you want me to get you some."
"Nah," Ed decided.
"There's pastries," Roy added.
Ed's eyes glinted with amusement. "That's more tempting."
"I figured. Let me up?"
Ed moved out of the way and, when Roy stood and stretched, got up to join him. Roy stopped long enough to shuck off his coat, since the rising sun outside was starting to warm the train and make it unnecessary, then led the way to the food compartment.
Roy refilled his cup of coffee, then settled in on the cleared bench to watch as Ed shifted through the food offerings, picking out a bit of this and a bit of that.
"Havoc filled me in a bit, during dinner yesterday – two days ago, whatever – about how people are," Ed said as he finally joined Roy on the bench, his hands full of snacks. "Military sort, but he said that, if I wanted to know about Al or Winry or the Hugheses, I needed to ask you."
Roy shrugged. "Alphonse has been ringing by every few weeks since we got back to Central at the beginning of the year," he offered, because he doubted Havoc had bothered to explain why Roy would have been keeping tabs on Ed's brother and mechanic. "He tells me about Rush Valley or waxes poetic about the beauty of the Xingan countryside for an hour or so, then asks if I've heard anything from you."
Ed winced. "Ah. Sorry about that."
Roy shrugged again, because Al's hour-long phone calls were one of the few non-military related calls he got at the office, and the only ones that Riza never complained about him taking, even going so far as to ask about them after he hung up. "I don't mind talking with your brother every few weeks, Ed, but I think we would all appreciate it if you would attempt to at least send some sort of sign that you're still alive once a month."
Ed slouched down behind his food. "I know. I just..." He sighed and took an angry bite out of some dried meat he'd found.
Roy considered him for a moment, waiting for him to swallow before offering, "Anya suggested you and Miss Rockbell had traded some promises before you left."
Ed's cheeks dusted with pink. "Fucking Anya," he complained. "Is there anything she didn't tell you?"
"Very likely," Roy agreed. "We never quite got around to the list of every international incident you tried to cause."
"Fuck you," Ed muttered as he straightened. "Yeah, fine. I asked Winry to marry me, in not quite so many words, and she agreed, in her way. About the time I crossed the border into Aerugo, I realised I fucked that up royally because, I swear, she's my best friend and I love her dearly, but the only things we have in common are my leg and Al, and the thought of actually sleeping with her did less than nothing for me."
"Thank you for that trip through your psyche," Roy muttered into his coffee, vaguely wondering if he wouldn't be better served disobeying his own order and heading down to the civilian dining car to filch some of their alcohol.
Ed flashed him a grin that was one hundred percent 'I'm going to make you regret starting this conversation as much as I am'. "Yeah, it was sort of like envisioning sleeping with Al, or Teacher. No."
"Edward," Roy tried, rubbing at his eyes. "I haven't had nearly enough sleep for this torture."
Ed let out a quiet laugh, and Roy felt the cup in his hand being replaced with what he discovered – once he opened his eyes – was a cheese pastry with the hints of colour that all of Ed's food seemed to develop, and he ate it quickly, half afraid it would revert to the unappetising greyscale if out of Ed's reach for too long.
"I need to talk to her," Ed admitted from behind Roy's stolen coffee. "I don't want to have that conversation with her, because she's probably going to cry, and then she's going to beat me with a spanner, and then she's going to cry again, and I just– Ugh."
"There are some conversations that only get harder the longer you put them off," Roy offered.
"I know." Ed sighed and drew his knees up, hugging them against his chest and making him seem almost as small as he had the first time Roy had seen him, sitting broken in a wheelchair. But now, like then, like every time in-between when their wretched world had tried to crush Ed and Al beneath its figurative boot, there was a fire in his soul, something that lit his eyes even as they filled with tears he refused to let himself shed.
Roy looked past Ed and his colours, out at the passing greyscale scenery beyond the window. "Elicia and Gracia are doing fine," he offered, and saw Ed's head come up out of the corner of his eye. "I promised I'd check in with them when I got back, if you wanted to stop by with me on the way from Command."
"Yeah," Ed said, and there was a smile brightening his face when Roy looked back at him. "If they don't mind, I'd love to see them. Elicia's what, nine now?"
"Ten," Roy corrected, allowing himself a fond smile. "Her birthday was shortly after I got back to Central, and she was so excited about having the whole team there, rather than just me. Miss Rockbell came up, too, but Al couldn't make it."
Ed's gaze went distant. "Her birthday's the end of February, right?"
"Yes. The twenty-third."
"Okay." Ed clenched his hand into a fist, his eyes taking on a determined light. "I'll be there this time, I swear." Then he deflated slightly. "Does she even remember me? I mean, I haven't seen her since...since before."
Before the Promised Day, Roy knew. "There are pictures of you, on the mantle," he offered, and Ed put on a helpless sort of smile, "and she knows Al, knows you're brothers and look something alike. She might be a little uncertain at first, but I think she'll figure out who you are without too much trouble." He shrugged. "Either way, Gracia will be happy to see you again." He snorted. "Actually, if I give her an hour or so warning and pick up a couple quick things on the way over, she'd probably be willing to cook a large dinner, so no one has to try finding food in my kitchen."
"Little empty?" Ed guessed.
"A little. There's some non-perishables, and if one of the others sent word back to the office that we would be back today, Kain might well have done some shopping for me–" or Chris would have, more likely "–but there's not going to be enough for a full house."
"Are we going to need to stop somewhere on the way there to get stuff?" Ed asked, frowning.
Roy shook his head and made a mental note to send word to Chris as soon as they got in to the office that he would be housing some diplomatic guests and would appreciate someone filling his fridge for him. Her bill would be beyond exorbitant, but Roy could slide it across to Treasury for a partial reimbursement, if not a full one, given who was helping him eat the food. "No. I'll handle it."
Ed sighed and knocked his head back against the train wall. "I feel a little bad, like we're putting you out or something."
Roy considered that, then snorted. "No. When we first got back to Central, Heymans was so busy sticking his fingers in Investigations, he didn't bother looking for a place to stay, and he refused to just take a room in the dorms, so I put him up."
Ed's eyes glinted. "How long?"
"Three months."
Ed curled around his knees, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, and Roy let himself smile at the memory, though he'd been at the end of his rope by the time Havoc and Fuery kidnapped Breda for a weekend and forced him to find a place.
"Yes," Roy said, "you have a long way to go before you can be quite the imposition that living with Heymans Breda for three months was. And I say that knowing that you are involved."
"Fuck you," Ed gasped out, clearly still trying to suppress his laughter.
"Promises, Edward," Roy couldn't resist.
"You're such a pervert," Ed complained with a groan.
Roy waited until Ed had calmed down, then cautiously offered, "Ed, I don't want you to feel pressured to sleep in my bed." Because he knew Anastasia and Riza had sort of forced the issue, and as often as Ed complained about his teasing... Roy had been the younger lover, once, and while his partner had been considerate, there had always been a vague air of 'I did it because it was expected' about the encounter. "There's a camp bed somewhere–"
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Ed moved across the empty space between them and yanked the empty coffee cup from Roy's hand, tossed it to the floor, then very firmly straddled Roy's lap so he was facing Roy. "I can not deal with you being a good guy, Roy," he snapped, and Roy honestly couldn't say if the shot of heat that went straight to his belly was from hearing Ed use his name, or the biting kiss that Ed followed that declaration with.
Roy couldn't stop himself from wrapping one arm around Ed's back, securing him in place, or using his other hand to force Ed's head to tilt the right direction that Roy could take control of the kiss, lapping his way into Ed's mouth and grunting when Ed proved that he was more than capable of catching his own hands – ungloved, better traction, Roy had not thought this through – in Roy's hair and yanking it until Roy gave in and let Ed have the control back, submitted himself to Ed's will, Ed's tongue trying to trace its way down his throat, Ed's nails scratching lines of pleasure across his scalp–
Ed, grinding down hard into Roy's lap and very effectively bringing his cock to attention.
"Ed," Roy gasped, somehow managing to pull himself away from Ed's mouth, and either Ed was a seriously fast learner, or he'd practised kissing with other people and that should make Roy jealous but it didn't, really, and– "Ed," he gasped again as Ed's hips rolled down against him, their lips brushing with every gasp for air, "the others."
"Shut up," Ed ordered, breathless, and his eyes, when he opened them, had turned a deep, dark shade of gold, his pupils grasping for the edges of his irises. "Really don't care."
Roy was finding he cared a lot less the longer he stared into those eyes, despite his better sense's last-ditch reminder that Riza was two compartments down and was going to shoot them both if she ever found out. It didn't take long for him to give in, turning his head so he could catch the fingers of his right glove with his teeth and yank it off with one hard pull, before spitting it to the bench and letting his fingers thread through Ed's hair, use it to yank his head back so Roy could nip along the column of his throat.
Ed let out a hitched, broken sort of sound, the apple of his throat bobbing convulsively under Roy's lips, and he licked a line up the path that motion formed as Ed ground down almost-desperate into his lap, against his super interested cock, pressed the heat of his own erection against Roy's stomach, teased them both with the promise of what could be if only they weren't stuck on a stupid train.
Roy muffled his groans against Ed's clavicle, nosing under the edge of his coat and jumper and sucking a patch of colour just out of public view, loved the strangled, half-suppressed noise Ed let out almost as much as he loved the bloom of red against his skin.
"Fuck you," Ed gasped, and the hand in Roy's hair pulled his head back and to the side, away from the red mark, "marking me– Not your dog."
"No," Roy agreed before clenching his teeth over a groan as Ed licked a stripe down his jaw, scrapped teeth over the pulse point just beneath his ear. "Hidden, Edward," he managed to force out, and Ed huffed out a breath against cooling saliva before obediently pulling aside the collar of Roy's jacket and shirt and latching on hard with his mouth.
Roy had just enough sense left to free his bare hand from Ed's hair so he could cover his own mouth, muffle the cracked cry he couldn't have silenced if he'd wanted to as his body tipped over the edge into glorious freefall.
Ed must have come too, Roy realised as the aftershocks of pleasure petered off, because he was curled limply in Roy's lap. "Dammit, Ed," he whispered against the strands of gold hair that had pulled free of his tie.
"Don't you dare start handling me like spun fucking glass," Ed ordered, pulling back so he could meet Roy's eyes, his own trapped somewhere between lazy-with-pleasure and hard-as-steel. "If I didn't want this, I'd have told all of you where to stick it."
Roy brushed unruly bangs out of Ed's face. "Message received," he offered, trying for dry and almost assuredly falling short. He groaned and dropped his head back against the bench behind him. "I don't remember the last time I got off with clothing on, but I remember it being unpleasant."
Ed snorted. "Give me your hands, bastard," he ordered, and Roy looked up at him as he did so, curious. "So," Ed continued, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, though his voice remained steady, "there's this trick I sort of learnt on accident, and I think–" He cut himself off with a sort of half-grimace, half-grin, then pressed Roy's hands together.
An unfamiliar array bloomed in Roy's mind, and he felt his eyes widen as the energy for an alchemic transmutation was drawn through him. A tiny part of him demanded he fight the draw, but Roy shoved that down deep, caught somewhere between awe and disbelief as the light of a transmutation lit Ed's face, building blue between them.
At the arc of the gathering energy, Ed pulled Roy's hands apart and pressed one against his own chest, the other against Roy's. The energy danced gently over his skin, cleaning away days of grime and the reminder of their most recent activities, before fizzling out to nothing.
Roy met the bright gold eyes across from him. "You can do alchemy," he breathed.
Ed reached up and gently cradled Roy's face between his hands, awe bright and beautiful in his eyes. "You trust me," he whispered, as if only just realising that. "You–"
"Of course I do," Roy agreed, rubbing the hand Ed had left on his chest up to rest over the blond's heart.
Ed brushed his left thumb across Roy's cheek and leant in, as though imparting the greatest of secrets. (Roy could believe it.) "That's only the second time that's worked," he admitted, glancing briefly away before catching Roy's gaze again. "I never lost any of my knowledge, just my access to the Gate; I still know how to do alchemy, but I need someone else's Gate to do it, and that means they have to trust me."
"Edward," Roy said, quiet but firm, "in all the years I've known you, you've been, in turns, contrary, insubordinate, irritating, determined, loyal, and probably a hundred other adjectives I'm not halfway together enough to remember right now–" Ed let out a quiet laugh "–but the one thing I can say with absolute certainty, is that I have never once found you untrustworthy. Even when you kept me from killing Envy."
Ed's eyes glimmered like he might cry. "Even you have to admit that would have been a shit life choice," he pointed out, his voice quavering.
"It would have," Roy agreed, before pressing past the hands curled around his face and brushing a chaste kiss against Ed's lips. "Any time you want to do alchemy," he promised, "I'm here."
Ed leant forward and curled around Roy, hiding his face against his shoulder. "I hate you," he whispered, and Roy was fluent enough in Edward Elric-ese that he knew Ed meant something very close to the opposite.
"I know," he said, wrapping his arms tight around the man in his lap and wishing they could stay like that forever, comfortable and safe, the rest of the world little better than an afterthought.
Eventually, though, Ed pulled away, blinking slowly, as though he was on the cusp of sleep. "We should go back to our compartment," he said, his words very careful, like he was trying to keep from slurring them.
"How can you sleep?" Roy complained, even as he helped Ed to his feet and joined him, remembering to grab his fallen glove only because the array on the back was a sharp curl of colour against the bland grey of the bench and train walls.
"Trained myself to sleep on trains," Ed replied as Roy got them back to the compartment they were sharing with Anastasia and Riza. "Also, you're warm and comfortable." And then he shoved Roy back onto their bench before curling up next to him in that position that was becoming far too familiar.
Once Roy was settled comfortably, he glanced across the compartment at Riza. Her eyes were closed, but there was a smile playing about her mouth, and Roy knew she'd heard Ed's last remark. He sighed and closed his own eyes, letting his head tilt back against the bench, and wondering if he could manage to fall back asleep.
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