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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.
Everyone was awake and had eaten by ten. In a bid to keep Ed from falling asleep again, Anastasia dragged him back to the compartment Natalia had been sharing with the rest of Roy's team, the Drachman copy of the treaty clutched in one hand while she hollered for Kuznetsov. Havoc and Falman were booted out of the compartment to make room for all the Drachmans, and all of the military personal moved to the first compartment so they didn't have to raise their voices as much to be heard over the loud argument in Drachman.
Roy made sure everyone was clear on the sleeping arrangements for the guests, made sure Francine was fine bunking over with Riza – she was; Roy hadn't really been that worried – then discussed the plans for their arrival, with several contingencies, depending on the greeting that awaited them in Central.
With the business out of the way, Roy asked for their impressions of their visitors, since this was the first chance he'd really had to gather his team in one place since the meeting. Francine's inclusion in the discussion was both unanticipated and a boon, given her understanding of Drachman.
Everyone had noticed, at one point or another, that both Kuznetsov and Natalia understood more Amestrisan than they spoke. Francine, who had spent most of the trip so far in the compartment with Kuznetsov, was quick to confirm Ed's belief that the man was fluent, though she also admitted that she hadn't heard him actually speak Amestrisan.
"You may have to transfer Andrea to Central to act as a translator," she offered.
Roy didn't have to ask why Francine wouldn't agree to a transfer for herself; even if she'd been willing, for the sake of peace between Drachman and Amestris, Olivier would sooner castrate Roy than allow him to take away her spy in North City. "I'll see if Major Hollandus is willing to go north," he decided, shaking his head. Then he narrowed his eyes on Francine. "You realise your sister is going to end up in my command," he pointed out, because Francine had made it clear that she didn't have a high opinion of him.
Francine flashed him a mean smile. "Yes, but you're with Elric, and everything I know about him says the minute you start flirting with someone else, he's going to deck you."
Havoc barked out a laugh while Roy resisted a sigh; she wasn't wrong, and Roy realised he needed to have a long talk with Ed about his information network.
Observations about the two bodyguards were varied, though everyone was fairly certain they had no more than the most basic of understanding of Amestrisan. They'd all noticed the tension between Ed and Orlov, and Francine had apparently overheard something that had her referring to him as a 'dirty swine of a man', something that Roy agreed to without passing on what he'd learnt from Anastasia. Havoc offered that he'd caught Orlov making eyes at Natalia not long after they'd first got on the train, but the Tsarevna had been aware, and Havoc hadn't been the only one to turn a glare on the bodyguard, nor was he the one to insist on a change of the original seating arrangement. (Roy made a mental note to check the locks on the guest rooms as soon as he got home, and to show both women where the guns hidden on the underside of each bed were, in case they felt the need for them; even if they didn't trust themselves to actually fire the guns, Roy knew most men would back off at finding a gun pointed at their face.)
His team and Francine were far lighter on Lagunov, given that Ed didn't appear to actively dislike him. Francine had got some of his backstory out of him, and wasted little time in telling them that he'd been a member of the Drachman military before being dishonourably discharged for punching a superior, though he hadn't offered a reason for the violence. That Tsar Ivan had sent him with Drachma's ambassador to serve as a long-term bodyguard in a military-heavy nation, in spite of his bad record, suggested there was either more to the incident, or the Tsar was a lot less interested in a peace treaty than his daughters. (Roy suspected it was more likely the former, but he made a mental note to try and get the full story out of Anastasia or Ed while they were staying at his house.)
Other than his clear understanding of their language, his team didn't have much to say about Kuznetsov that Roy hadn't already observed himself, like the man's obvious preference for office work. Francine added that he was well learned, and he appeared far shrewder one-on-one than he had acted at the meeting table. He was also quite vocal about his support of Anastasia as the next ruler of Drachma, something of an unpopular opinion among the Imperial Court, and Roy suspected they'd hit on the reason Tsar Ivan had sent Kuznetsov, rather than an ambassador who was more willing to speak Amestrisan.
Natalia, Roy's team was quick to equate to Al. There was a certain air of gentleness around her, and it was clear that she desperately wanted this treaty to work out, but there was also a quick intelligence behind her eyes, and she had shown an iron will at the treaty table, untempered by Vickers' attack previous. She was also noticeably fond of both her sister and Ed.
"She's the same age as Ed," Havoc added, his eyes comically widened. "And she's married to some duke or another."
"Edward mentioned something about her being married," Roy agreed. He'd actually had her pegged as younger than Ed by a year or two, but he blamed that on how much she reminded him of Al.
"It happens," Riza added, shooting Havoc a look that had him snapping his mouth shut.
Roy had spent the most time with Anastasia, though Francine was willing to report that, while the Tsesarevna had appeared far more cautious of Roy before the incident with Vickers, she had shared that Ed spoke well of him. Havoc passed on, from Natalia, that Anastasia was thirty and very determinately unattached to anyone. Also, that she had a bad habit of vanishing into the lower Imperial City, to their father's unending horror, which was where she'd met Ed, and explained some of the comments the two had made over breakfast in the mess.
Roy, after a moment of debate with himself, shared her problem with her suitors – and Ed's solution for them, mostly to make Havoc cackle and the two women in the compartment share vindictive smiles – and that she had fought hard to keep Ed in the Imperial Court before Tsar Ivan had got used to him.
As for Ed, Roy's team had all noticed his maturity, though Havoc was quick to point out that Roy was still perfectly capable of dragging the old Ed out.
"You realise," Francine said as Havoc fell quiet, "that he is more loyal to Drachma than you."
Roy shrugged and nodded, seeing the other three also nod their agreement, with Havoc adding, "Well, of course."
Francine blinked, clearly startled. "You don't care that your friend is working against you?"
"Were we at different peace meetings?" Havoc asked. "Because I'm fairly certain we're all on the same side."
"Right now," Riza interrupted, "the Drachmans need Edward on their side far more than we do."
"This isn't about loyalty or sides," Roy offered, and Francine wasn't the only one to frown at him. "This is about promises." Understanding bloomed for his team, but Francine still looked confused, so he explained, "Edward believes in holding to his promises, no matter what. He promised to keep Tsesarevna Anastasia safe, so he's not going to do anything that will put her in danger; he promised to act as a translator, so he's going to give them the most accurate translation of what we say, even if that means using four years of learning to read my body language to give them an edge." Andrea had warned him at one point during the meeting that Ed was doing that, and Roy had been forced to admit, at least to himself, that he should have expected that.
"Huh." Francine sat back against the bench. "I'd wondered why things weren't more tense between you," she admitted. "What about his promises to you?"
"Unlikely to be affected by anything that happens in relation to this treaty."
Francine snorted and closed her eyes. "Well, then."
Conversation turned, after that, to things they could show their guests to in Central. Francine hadn't been in Central since she'd received her original posting out at Briggs, so she didn't have much to contribute, but she was clearly happy to offer scathing commentary about some of Havoc's joking suggestions.
As the city limits of Central became visible outside the window, Roy dismissed everyone to collect their things and – if Ed hadn't done so himself – break up the discussion two compartments down.
It was with unending gratitude that Roy found Breda leaning against a pillar directly across from the door into the compartment car, rather than a line of soldiers; apparently, Grumman had either shot down all demands for a welcoming committee at the station, or had 'forgotten' to make sure everyone knew when the train was coming in. Either way, Roy was honestly grateful and, by the knowing grin that bloomed across Breda's face as he straightened to deliver a lazy salute, he hadn't hidden it sufficiently.
And then Breda's eyes went wide, staring over Roy's shoulder, and Roy had the necessary proof that, indeed, his team was made up of children who took great joy in 'forgetting' to inform each other about missing friends popping home. "Ed?!" Breda called.
Ed let out a laugh, a few steps behind Roy and slightly to his left. "Hey, Breda."
"Lieutenant Colonel," Roy called, before things could devolve, because he really didn't want to stand in the middle of Central Station with a group of foreign dignitaries.
Breda forced his attention back on Roy and nodded, before turning and motioning for the group to follow him. "As per Colonel Hawkeye's orders, I procured four vehicles. Fuery's holding down the office and managing anyone who gets curious about my long lunch."
"Good. When are we expected at Command?"
Breda's confused look was all for show as he responded, "For some reason, Führer Grumman seems to think your train won't be arriving for another three hours."
Since Grumman had been perfectly aware of when their train was due in to Central when Roy had spoken to him before lunch the day before, it was clear that the Führer had decided the best way to keep the brass from swarming the station with members of the military, was to just spread disinformation about their arrival time. "Perhaps his listing of train times is incorrect," he mused. "I'll warn his secretary."
"Yes, sir."
As they approached the line of cars, the three corporals standing next to the doors all saluting as soon as they saw them, Roy told Breda, "Take Ambassador Kuznetsov and his guard to the embassy, and we'll pick you up on our way in."
"You got it," Breda agreed, before leaving Roy to divide the group into cars, while he settled in next to the unattended vehicle.
Since Havoc lived just down the block from Riza, Roy sent him with the colonel and Francine. Falman lived in the dorms, which were a little too close to Central Command to avoid notice, but he'd insisted he didn't mind carting his suitcase with them to Command, so Roy sent him in the car carrying Natalia and Orlov, while Roy rode with Ed and Anastasia.
It wasn't a long drive to Roy's place, not because he was particularly close to the station, but because his neighbourhood was home to shops that didn't commonly open until after most people had got off work for the day, so traffic was minimal once they turned off the main roads.
"I don't think I've ever seen this part of Central," Ed commented as they stopped outside of Roy's unusually-large-for-the-area townhouse.
"No," Roy agreed, "this was never your scene. Corporal."
"Sir?"
"I can't promise how long we'll take, but you're welcome to remain in the car or come in."
"I'm happy to remain in the car, sir, but Corporal Focke may prefer to wait inside."
Roy nodded and stepped out onto the pavement as the rest of his car and the other one also unloaded. "Major!" he called, and Falman immediately turned to him. "Give Corporal Focke his options."
"Sir!" Falman ducked back into the car to do so.
When Roy went to retrieve his suitcase, he found that Ed had already absconded with it, and both he and Anastasia had started towards the front door. With a sigh, Roy joined them, pulling out his house key as he went. "There's a place for shoes around the corner," he directed as he opened the door, because he had never been inclined to invest in a maid service, but he hated cleaning the floors. The simplest solution, therefore, had been to make everyone remove their shoes before traipsing through the house.
The corporal from the other car was the last person to enter, following Falman. "Corporal, you're to remain on the ground floor, and if you leave the entryway, take off your shoes, or you'll be spending your next day off cleaning my floors, am I clear?" Roy told the man as he closed the front door.
"Yes, sir, General Mustang," Focke agreed.
Roy left him to it, toeing off his boots and placing them neatly among the scattering of other shoes, then went to hunt down his houseguests.
He found everyone in the study, Ed translating as Falman gave them the verbal tour. Given Falman's usual approach to detail, Roy figured he had enough time to check how bare his kitchen was. Which, well, it was pretty bare, and he took a moment to sigh over it before returning to collect Ed, Anastasia, and Natalia from the study.
Roy waited until they reached the top of the stairs before offering, "Both guest rooms are fairly similar in layout." He pointed to two of the three opened rooms. "Lieutenant Colonel Havoc swears the one on the right, closer to the bathroom–" he pointed at the only closed door on the landing "–is notably larger, but he's the only one who thinks so. You're both free to pick whichever room you'd like, but first, I'd like to show you both something."
The sisters traded glances, but gamely followed Roy into the left-most guest room, which shared its wall with his own room, while Ed leant against the doorframe. Roy led them to the bed, then knelt down next to it. "In case you ever need it." He smoothly slipped the gun from the harness on the underside and showed it to them "Both rooms have one."
"That is clever," Anastasia murmured, kneeling next to the bed herself and peeking underneath to get a look at the harness.
"Colonel Hawkeye insisted there be a few hidden around the house, in places I might be caught off guard," Roy admitted, slipping the gun back away. "There's a false book in the study that I'll have to point out, one under the kitchen sink, and one in the cupboard in the front hall, should you need them."
"Your room?" Anastasia asked.
Roy shrugged. "My gloves are faster," he said, before getting to his feet. "We have two hours before we should leave, so feel free to take some time to freshen up. I'm afraid there's nothing in the kitchen, but you may be able to talk Major Falman into running down to the shop and picking something up, if necessary."
Anastasia smiled up at him. "Thank you, Roy." Behind her sister, Natalia also offered him a grateful smile.
Roy inclined his head. "Ladies," he offered before joining Ed.
"Thank you," Ed murmured as Roy led him into his own room.
Roy shrugged. "I can rig something up for you, if you'd like?" he offered, motioning towards the bed. "Not for a gun, I expect–"
Ed snorted. "Sure. I usually just keep one of my throwing knives under my pillow if I think I might need it, but I'm as likely to tackle an assailant as throw a knife at them, so it doesn't really matter either way to me."
"Well, I'll put something together and you can use it or not, as you please. I'd like to avoid any knives under pillows, if possible."
Ed shot him a smirk as he dropped both of their suitcases on the bed. "Afraid you'll find it the hard way?" he asked as he flicked his wrist in a very familiar way and an almost-familiar blade slid into his hand. Roy had no idea what expression he was wearing, but Ed offered him an understanding smile as he held the knife out. "Yeah," he said as Roy took it, "given my dislike of guns and preference for in-close fighting, this seemed like a good fit."
"Disliking guns was why Hughes picked knives, too," Roy offered, turning the thin weapon over in his hands, getting a feel for the shape and weight. "Since he ended up in Intelligence, no one cared what weapon he carried, so long as he carried something. I'm fairly certain he never actually bothered to pick up the service revolver or the holster."
"Knew I liked him," Ed joked.
Considering Ed's penchant for hand-to-hand combat, as opposed to Roy's own preference for distance attacks, he knelt next to the side of the bed closest to the door out into the hall to transmute a sheath for the knife. "I think Gracia still has his old knives," he commented as the flare of alchemic light died down and he could test the knife with his creation. "She'd probably be happy to give them to you, if you wanted to ask for them."
Ed knelt next to him, watching as Roy made a small correction. "I don't know. I mean, I wouldn't want to take anything of his she was keeping."
Roy shook his head. "Ask her. Knowing Gracia, she'll prefer to know they're getting used."
"Yeah, okay." Ed accepted the knife back when Roy held it out, and they both got to their feet.
They stood there for a moment, Roy uncertain what to say next while Ed took a very obvious look around the room. Finally, he cleared his throat and offered, "Bathroom's through there, feel free to clear a space for your toiletries. There should be room in the cupboard, if you've got anything you want to hang up, and I can clean out a drawer for you in the dresser tonight."
Ed shot him a vaguely startled look. "I doubt we're going to be staying that–"
"Edward," Roy interrupted, "this isn't just for one visit."
"I–" Ed blinked, clearly at a loss for words. "Oh," he settled on.
Roy didn't resist the urge to reach out and cup Ed's cheek with one hand, and he was gratified when Ed relaxed into the touch, his eyes falling closed. "Unpack as much or as little as you want," he murmured, "and if you want to leave anything here, I'll keep it safe. Whether you want to treat this as your home or not, it's here."
Ed sort of swayed forward, towards Roy, and he caught him without having to think about it, wrapping the blond in his arms and holding him close. Ed returned the hug without any hints of uncertainty, even as he whispered against Roy's chin, "I'm not sure I remember how to have a home."
"I never thought I'd have anyone who could also call my home theirs," Roy whispered back. "Guess we'll have to figure it out together."
"Yeah." Ed leant up to brush a quick kiss to Roy's lips, then pulled back and took another look around the room, this one clearly more meant to decide what he could change to make the space more his own. Strangely, Roy found he didn't mind that, almost needed Ed to do something, as though if he changed something, he would be more likely to stay.
And Roy really needed to stop that thought process right there, because Ed was going to go travelling again, and letting form the hope that he wouldn't was only going to see Roy hurt.
He cleared his throat and started pulling off his gloves as he turned to the cupboard. "I'm going to change, then see about making some phone calls."
"Gracia?" Ed guessed.
Roy nodded. "And a neighbour who I trust to get some food."
"Natalia has a mild allergy to shellfish," Ed warned, and Roy glanced back at him. "It's not fatal, by any stretch, but she'll be a misery for days if she has any."
"Not usually something I invest in," Roy replied, "but I'll make sure to specify that's off the menu to both Gracia and my neighbour. Anything else I should watch out for?"
"Yeah, go easy on the chili powder."
Roy snorted, remembering the comment about the cook in the Imperial Court. "I think we can manage that," he agreed before returning to getting undressed.
Ed vanished into the en suite bathroom as Roy pulled off his shirt, and he suspected it was more to keep either of them from getting distracted, rather than a bout of shyness. Either way, since there wasn't that much to do in the bathroom, Roy finished changing his bottoms and shirt quickly, knocking on the bathroom door as he switched over the contents of his trouser pockets. "Clear."
Ed made a face at him as he opened the door. "Yeah, thanks."
Roy brushed his hand along Ed's jaw, secretly delighting in the skin-to-skin contact that he hadn't had nearly enough chances to enjoy, then stepped back towards the door out into the hall. "I'll go make those calls," he offered.
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off so I can change in peace and make sure all the best pillows are on my side."
Roy snorted and retreated to the phone in the ground floor hall, across from the pile of shoes. The corporal who'd come in with them had clearly come further into the house, because there were three pairs of military-issue boots lined up neatly beside the pile of mismatched northern boots.
He turned his back on the pile and quickly set about dialling the number for the shop that Gracia worked in during the day. "Goldenrods and Marigolds!" the chipper voice of the shop's owner answered. "This is Kimberly, how can I help you?"
"Hello, Kim," Roy offered in his most charming voice, "it's Roy. Is Gracia around?"
"Roy! Hi, sweetcheeks!" she chirped, and Roy barely resisted the urge to wince at her pet name of the week. "She's with a customer right now, but I can have her ring you back right after. Maybe ten minutes?"
"Please do. Tell her I'm at home right now."
"Sure thing, sweetcheeks!" Then she hung up.
Roy rubbed helplessly at the bridge of his nose with one hand as he tapped down on the cradle, then started dialling his aunt's private line, because ten minutes should be just enough time to ask for a grocery run.
"This better be important," Chris snarled when she picked up.
Roy winced, realising he was calling while she was usually asleep. "I apologise, Madam," he offered smoothly. "This was the first chance I had to ring you."
There was a beat of silence, then, "Roy-Boy? You back in Central?"
"Yes." He glanced towards the small side table clock that someone – he suspected Fuery – had set next to the phone at one point months ago. "My train got in about forty minutes ago."
Chris huffed. "Fine. Cut the pleasantries; why are you ringing me first thing?"
"I'm housing some guests and I have no idea when I'll be able to make a grocery run," Roy admitted, because when Chris Mustang said 'cut the pleasantries', she meant 'get to the point before I hang up on you and unplug the phone'.
Chris grunted and Roy caught the distant sound of shifting paper and the click of a ballpoint pen. "Numbers? Specifications?"
"Four, though one of them has a habit of eating for two," Roy added drily, and heard his aunt let out a snort of amusement. "No shellfish."
"You hate shellfish," Chris pointed out.
Roy sighed. "One of them is allergic."
"Fine." The ballpoint pen clicked again. "I'll send Helen and Emily out as soon as they can drag their asses out of bed. Should be there around three."
Roy nodded. "Thank you. Tell them to leave the bill on the refrigerator."
"You're not coming by tonight?"
"Probably not," Roy admitted, because between the lack of sleep on the train, and having his house full of guests that he was partially responsible for the safety of, he couldn't really see going by the pub. Honestly, he wasn't sure he should go by at all while the Drachmans were staying with him, for the added security, but if he didn't go to Chris, she was liable to come to him, and the last time she'd done that, he'd been woken at 04:30 by his aunt and three of her women using his pots and serving utensils to start up a marching band at the bottom of his stairs.
"Fine. We'll see you when we see you," Chris decided, before unceremoniously hanging up.
Roy sat the receiver down in the cradle, then leant back against the wall next to the table the phone was on. He glanced up and found Anastasia standing at the bottom of the stairs, one eyebrow raised. "Asking a neighbour to get me some food while we're stuck at Command."
She nodded. "A good plan."
The phone rang.
Roy picked it up and offered a much gentler than he would have done in the office, "Mustang."
"Roy!" Gracia said, sounding quite glad. "I half thought Kimmy was pulling my leg, saying you were back in Central. Elicia will be so happy."
Roy relaxed back against the wall, unable to help a fond smile. "I'm not the only one who's back: I found Ed up north."
"Is he okay?" Gracia pleaded.
"He's fine," Roy promised, and she let out a relieved breath. "He made friends with the Drachmans and came as their translator."
Gracia let out a quiet laugh. "Of course he did. Is he headed down to Rush Valley?"
"No, Al and Miss Rockbell are coming to us; part of the delegation suggested they would be interested in seeing Central. I'm putting up Ed and a couple of the senior members at my house."
Gracia's laugh was less quiet and far more knowing that time. "How many am I making dinner for tonight, Roy?"
"Five."
"I think I can manage that, if you pick up a salad mix from your mystery supplier."
Roy snorted, since his 'mystery supplier' was one of the cooks who served the officer's mess at Command; she'd taken to complaining, back when Roy had first been transferred back to Central as a colonel, that he didn't eat enough greens, so she was happy to make up a salad for him any time he asked for one. "Of course."
"Good. So, five-thirty? Six-thirty?"
"Let's plan for six, and if things get hectic, I'll have Riza ring you," Roy decided.
"Is she coming?"
"I didn't ask her," Roy admitted, and Gracia tutted at him. "I'll offer when I see her at the office," he promised, "but that will make seven."
"I can handle seven dinner guests, Roy Mustang."
Roy coughed to hide the laugh he couldn't quite smother. "You're a wonder and a marvel and a pearl without price," he insisted, and Gracia let out a bright laugh.
"Charmer," she returned.
"Always. Charge something to my account for the table?" Roy suggested.
"I can do that," Gracia agreed, and Roy knew she'd discount the flowers, like she always did when he wasn't buying them for a date (or, well, information gathering meeting disguised as a date), which was unnecessary, but sweet of her. "We'll see you tonight."
"I look forward to it," Roy promised before hanging up the phone.
"Was that Mrs Hughes?" Ed asked, peering around the corner just a little past where Anastasia was considering Roy with a curious frown.
"It was," Roy agreed, and Ed's face lit up, while Anastasia smiled in understanding. "She's happy to make dinner for everyone tonight."
"That's because she's awesome and probably knows the state of your kitchen," Ed returned, and Roy shrugged, because that was true. To Anastasia, Ed asked, "Is Natalia still upstairs?" in Drachman, and Roy was actually kind of impressed that he'd understood him.
"Da."
"We don't need to leave quite yet, Ed," Roy called after him as the blond vanished back around the corner.
"If everyone's ready, we might as well!" Ed called back, and Roy could hear his mismatched steps on the stairs.
Roy glanced down at the half of his uniform he was wearing and sighed. "I suppose that's true," he admitted, and Anastasia let out a quiet noise of amusement. He cast her a knowing smile. "You're ready?" he asked her.
"More than you are," she agreed, and the gold specks in her eye glittered.
Roy snorted. "Could you round up the gentlemen down here for me?" he requested and, when she nodded, he left her to finish changing. "Edward," he called at the top of the stairs, and he poked his head out of the guest room closer to the hall bathroom. "Everyone's numbers are on a sheet in the drawer just under the phone."
"Call Hawkeye and Havoc?" Ed guessed.
"Please."
"Sure," Ed agreed before turning to rattle off some Drachman to Natalia too fast for Roy to catch, while Roy continued to his room to collect his butt cape, jacket, and gloves.
Everyone was gathered by the time Ed had hung up the second time and turned to say, "The colonel's going to call the embassy while she waits for Havoc, then they're headed over here."
Roy nodded. "We'll wait in the cars," he declared and everyone obediently filed outside to do so.
As he locked his front door, Roy sent up a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that everything went smoothly.
Whatever gods watched over Amestris – or, at the least, Roy Mustang – had chosen to be kind, for once, and the visit at the military had gone smoothly. Richard Bess, Roy's fellow full-general, had somehow managed to assemble the rest of the brass into something approaching a mature group of men and women who had the power to control the future of their country and used that power for the good of the people – yeah, Roy almost laughed at that one, too – and when they were dismissed after the initial introductions, they actually left. (Roy suspected he owed Bess a fruit basket. At the least.)
Forewarning Anastasia that their Führer was slightly extravagant had been a good choice, because Grumman had been in rare form, caught somewhere between more-than-slightly-addled and entirely too amused by himself, which wasn't unusual, and Roy knew it was at least half a front to hide the man's terrifyingly keen intelligence, but still had a tendency to put off people who were meeting him for the first time. But Anastasia had appeared to find him charming, which Roy couldn't help but suspect was related to how Grumman had insisted on referring to Ed as 'Major Elric', no matter how much Ed had – mostly jokingly – insulted him.
The only minor hiccup had been the minor corrections the Drachmans had made to the translation Ed had typed up, which Roy suspected had been due to him rushing, rather than a flaw in his understanding of the language (which Orlov had been quick to suggest, as translated by Francine). Falman had somehow managed to track down a typewriter with the Drachman alphabet, and Ed had typed new copies of the pages with corrections, occasionally snarling insults when one of the Drachmans came over to check on his progress.
While Ed had been typing, Roy had put forth Gracia's offer for Riza and Francine to join them for dinner. The two women had traded looks, then politely declined, Francine insisting, "I really just want to find a bed and collapse into it, but please pass on Andrea's greetings for me." Roy had agreed, and Riza suggested he ring Gracia and update her, while Riza herself went down to the officer's mess and ensured there would be a salad for Roy to take with him.
They had ended the day at the office with the treaty signing – which Grumman insisted, despite them having come to Central, Roy sign instead of him, and Roy took that as yet another sign that his commanding officer was intending to retire soon, no matter his jokes about holding onto the position until he died of old age – and Grumman approving a week of paid leisure time for Roy and his team, since, "You already have such an inspiring rapport with our Drachman guests, it would be an insult on my part to assign them someone unfamiliar to show them around Central while you're stuck under a pile of paperwork."
Roy didn't even bother pretending he wasn't grateful.
After collecting the salad from the kitchens, Roy led the way down to his car, which he'd left in the military garage while he'd been up north, so the street-cleaning crew didn't bitch at him if he was still away when they came down his street for their weekly pass. "Sorry about the tight fit," Roy offered as Ed, Anastasia, and Natalia crowded into the back, Anastasia holding the salad, while Orlov settled into the front seat with Roy.
"At least Al's not here," Ed suggested, and Roy let out a laugh of remembrance as he pulled out of his space. Ed glanced back, then deadpanned, "You actually wrote your name on the space."
Roy shook his head. "Any general with a personal vehicle gets their name on a space," he explained, slowing down slightly and motioning to where they could see Brigadier General Dinah Hashim's labelled space.
"Well, that's a cheat," Ed complained.
Roy shot him an amused look in the rear-view mirror. "Why do you even care? Even when you were in the military, you refused to make use of the military's cars."
Ed waved a careless hand at that. "It was easier to walk everywhere than get into a debate about letting a civilian who wore a giant suit of armour use military transport. I mean, you guys didn't care, but there were a couple of people in carpool who got testy the first few times we tried, so we just decided to walk."
Roy frowned. "You should have told me."
Ed scoffed. "Why? You were in East, and it wasn't that big of a deal, Mustang, really."
"You still should have told me," Roy insisted. "Ed, you were a State Alchemist; you were just as entitled to using a car as you were to entering the library, and no one ever tried to stop Alphonse from going in there, did they?"
"Once," Ed admitted, "but I–" he coughed "–had words with them."
"I rest my case," Roy muttered, and got a gentle punch to the shoulder for, doubtless, being a smarmy bastard.
They all piled out at the Hugheses, and Roy led the way upstairs to their flat, taking his gloves off as he went, because Elicia always complained they were scratchy. He knocked a rapid pattern on the door – an old habit Maes and he had developed at the academy, to let each other know who was coming in, which Gracia had quickly adopted – then unlocked it with his key.
"Uncle Roy!" a gleeful voice cried, and Roy didn't even manage to get the door open all the way before Elicia was jumping at him.
Roy caught her with a fond chuckle, wrapping her in a hug while she clung to his neck. "Hello, Princess."
She pulled back to shoot him an imperious look. "Today," she declared, "I am a pirate captain."
"Apologies, Captain," Roy corrected and she grinned at him. "Permission to board?"
"Granted!" she agreed, and Roy carried her back into the flat – and she was really too big for this, but Roy didn't have the heart to say he wouldn't carry her any more – the others following them.
Once he'd heard the front door close, Roy carefully resettled Elicia so he could hold her with one arm, then tweaked her nose, earning him a face. "Captain, I hope you don't mind that I brought some friends with me," he offered.
Elicia clearly considered that, looking them over. Her eyes stopped on Ed and she frowned. "Who's he?" she asked Roy, pointing at the blond.
"That's Ed, Al's brother. You remember him, right?"
Elicia gave that a moment of consideration, then let out a noise of understanding and scrambled out of Roy's hold before dashing down the hall and around the corner into the living room. Roy had enough time to shrug in response to the confused looks the others wore, before she was back, carrying one of the photos from the mantle. "Big brother Ed!" she declared, waving around that same photo that Roy and Anastasia had found in Ed's journals, of him standing with Al and Miss Rockbell before the brothers left to travel the world.
Ed leant down slightly, grinning the same way he was in the picture. "Yup. Last time I saw you, you were only this big." He motioned with his hand against his knee.
"Nuh-uh! I was never that little!" Elicia declared, pointing at him with the photo.
"Of course you weren't," Roy agreed, carefully taking the photo from her before she could break the frame.
Ed considered her, tilting his head to one side slightly. "I dunno. It was a long time ago. Maybe you were bigger and I'm just misremembering?"
Elicia gave a vigorous nod, then jumped towards Ed. He caught her with a grunt, looking somewhere between surprised and grateful.
"Hey, so," Ed said after a brief moment of hugging, turning slightly towards the Drachmans; Anastasia and Natalia were both watching with wide smiles, while Orlov looked cautiously charmed, as though he couldn't actually resist Elicia's charm, but he didn't like that she was so happy about Ed. "Captain Elicia, this is my super best friend ever, Anya, and her little sister, Natalia. And the grouch in the back is Fedor, but don't let his face scare you too much, okay?"
And it was probably for the best that Orlov couldn't actually understand Amestrisan, because Roy suspected that would have caused a fight, otherwise.
"Anya, Natalia, Fedor," Elicia repeated, pointing at each one, "Big Brother Ed, Uncle Roy, Elicia!" she finished, looking so pleased with herself, Roy sort of wanted to hug her until she demanded down.
Ed and the two princesses laughed. "Excellent," Ed praised, and Elicia beamed. "Oh, so–" Ed lowered his voice "–Natalia has trouble speaking our language, but she can understand you fine, okay? And Fedor is too stupid, so don't bother trying to speak to him at all."
Elicia looked vaguely horrified. "He can't speak?"
Roy cleared his throat. "They're from Drachma, to the north," he explained, and her eyes lit up, showing she recognised the name of the country. "They speak a different language there. If you want to talk with Natalia or Or-Fedor, you can ask Anya or your big brother to translate for you."
Elicia blinked wide eyes at him. "Not you, Uncle Roy?"
Roy shook his head. "I'm not very good at it, but Anya and Ed are teaching me."
Elicia's eyes lit up and she informed Ed, "Grownups have to go to school too."
Ed grinned. "Sometimes," he agreed.
Roy rolled his eyes, then ordered, "Shoes off, then come on in." So saying, he slid off his own boots, then took Elicia to go put the photo back while the others followed suit.
Ed clearly remembered the layout of the flat well enough, for Roy found everyone in the kitchen, Ed introducing Gracia to the Drachmans. As soon as Ed was done, Elicia started telling her mother all about how Ed had lied about how big she'd been and that the Drachmans were from far away where they spoke another language and they didn't speak Amestrisan and wasn't that weird?
Roy kissed Gracia's cheek as she listened to Elicia chatter, then walked over to the cabinets to get dishes for the table.
Ed joined him after a moment, his eyes shining. "She is fu-freaking precious."
"Yes she is," Roy agreed, handing over the stack of plates so he could get the flatware.
Ed drooped slightly. "I wish I'd been here more," he admitted. "I wish Hughes was here."
Roy reached out and cupped Ed's cheek. "I know," he whispered as Ed leant into his hand, because he knew all too well how much it hurt to look at Elicia and see the empty space where her father should have been.
Gracia cleared her throat and Ed jumped and pulled away, flushing faintly. She smiled from where she'd stopped behind him, bracing her hands against his shoulders to keep him from unbalancing because of the plate. "That's new," she offered, sounding very much approving.
"Go pry into someone else's private life," Roy ordered, rolling his eyes, because Gracia had wasted little time, once Roy had got back from Ishval at the beginning of the year, in taking up Maes' old torch and trying to get Roy to settle down with someone.
Gracia scoffed at him. "I'll pry all I want, Roy Mustang, and you'll like it."
Ed failed miserably at muffling a laugh against the plates.
Gracia kissed his cheek. "Go save your friends from my daughter," she ordered, and Ed took the offered escape route while Roy turned back to the flatware drawer. "Roy," she warned, amusement following Ed from the kitchen.
"What do you want from me, Gracia?" Roy asked quietly, because he knew that tone, had heard it when she told him he would be signing the paperwork to be Elicia's godfather, had heard it when she visited him in hospital a week after the Promised Day, when someone finally told her he was blind, had heard it when he'd told her he was going back to Ishval. "He's not a child."
"That doesn't mean he doesn't need someone to threaten you," Gracia retorted, reaching out to catch his hands, pulling him around to face her. Roy frowned at her, but she just looked back and forth between his eyes, reading who knew what, because she'd learned him from Maes, and she might not be able to read him quite the same way he had done, but she was better than everyone, save Riza and Chris.
"Okay," she said at last, letting him go.
Roy felt his jaw tighten, couldn't have helped it if he'd tried. "Okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "You're right, he's not a child any more."
Roy narrowed his eyes at her. "It's not like you to give up so easily."
"I'm not giving up," she told him, turning away, "I'm just satisfied."
'About what?' Roy wanted to ask, but he'd known Gracia long enough to know when he wasn't going to get anything else from her, so he huffed and turned back to snatch at the flatware, taking his anger out on it so he could put on a smile for Elicia when he went back to the others.
Other than Gracia's little chat, dinner was a success. Elicia was enthralled with the idea of another language – Roy learning Cretan had been very much outside the norm for a childhood in Central; outside the norm for a childhood anywhere in Amestris, really, but some of the border towns would have immigrants willing to pass on their native language to curious neighbours – and she kept pleading for Anastasia and Natalia to speak it and teach her some and how did they say this particular word that she'd just learnt in school that week. The princesses were game to play along, both clearly enjoying teaching the girl, and Roy wouldn't be surprised if there followed an uptick in interest in Drachma at the primary school Elicia attended, given how excited she was about the whole thing and how unashamed she always was to share things that made her happy. (She was very much her father's daughter, and Roy could never thank the universe enough for leaving behind this little piece of his best friend.)
Gracia managed to get some stories out of Ed, about his travels outside their borders. He only told stories that had little or no danger to himself, Roy noticed, but it was more than he, himself, had found time to drag from the blond. (Given, he hadn't found much time to ask for stories, with the treaty work and Ed's habit of falling asleep on trains.) Anyway, he'd received enough verbal and written reports about the former alchemist's adventures to know that Ed never told the full story and always lied about the danger to himself, as well as the damage he caused. And while none of them really cared about structural damage in Aerugo or Creta enough for Ed to feel the need to hide that – and Roy really hoped Ed was less destructive now that he couldn't clap his hands together and bring down a building – Orlov was the only person who didn't have a vested interest in Ed's personal safety, so Roy knew he was going to downplay that.
After dinner, they all retired to the living room for coffee, and Gracia managed to get in some questions to Anastasia – mostly about Ed, though some about the princesses themselves – while Ed played translator for Elicia and Natalia. Anastasia was happy to tell of some of her and Ed's more bandit-worthy adventures – apparently, the two had cemented their friendship by breaking into liquor shops and vandalising the buildings owned by gangs, which Roy couldn't even pretend to be surprised about, though he expected a few brawls had also played a part – and she also deigned to fill in some of the gaps in Amestris' knowledge of the Imperial Court, and Roy was going to have to get her to tell it all to him again when he had somewhere to write it all down, because he wasn't sure he had the mental capacity to remember everything right then.
Which turned into a sign that they needed to head back to his place, because while Roy had never felt ashamed about crashing on Gracia's couch when he was too tired to trust himself to drive home, he couldn't do that when he was hosting other people. So he rounded everyone up, consented to one very wet smooch on the cheek from Elicia, and took everyone home.
Once everyone was back inside at his house, he stopped them from dispersing to say, "Until I get up and shut off everything, don't open any outside doors or windows. And if the phone rings, let it; it's probably my team checking to see if it's safe to drop by."
" 'Shut everything off'?" Anastasia asked.
Roy shrugged. "Alchemic traps, of a sort." So saying, he turned back to the front door and pressed a finger against the miniature array that had been carved into the wood just above the top hinge, activating the chain of arrays that circled the front of the townhouse. They, and the set in the back, which he went to activate right after, didn't go so far as to seal the outer doors and windows, but if they were activated by someone trying to get in, they would do so, and set off a series of miniature explosions meant to get others away from the building and also wake up Roy. Riza had tried to get him to make the explosions more severe than they actually were – they would only do, at worst, damage that a first aid kit was sufficient to treat – but Roy hadn't wanted to chance some neighbourhood kid unintentionally setting one off and getting sent to hospital.
Of course, as he'd been quick to point out to her, if he really wanted a secure abode, he'd need to set something up in the walls he shared with his neighbours. He'd reinforced all of his walls by adding a layer of steel between them – an adventure which had required two weekends of dragging in steel beams bought from a warehouse on the other side of the city, then tearing down his walls until he hit the thin layer of bricks that acted as sound insulation between the buildings and a façade along the back and front of the building, transmuting the steel into place, then replacing the wall – but anyone who was determined enough to get to him that they'd go through a neighbour's house wasn't going to be stopped by steel for long.
The roof, on the other hand, he'd secured without concern, peppering it with a series of arrays that would set off a chain reaction which should, if the attackers were standing on the roof anywhere, trap them with tar, then set them alight. A layer of fire-proof material had been added to the eaves, with another layer of steel just under it, to help keep the roof from caving in if someone decided to try dropping an explosive on top of his house.
So, really, his house wasn't quite the secure fortress Riza had painted to Ed on the train, but Roy – and Ed, when you got right down to it – was a fighter, and this was his home; he didn't want a building to hide in, he wanted to know when to step up and defend his property.
While he was in the kitchen anyway, he checked on his food stocks and was pleased to find that his aunt's women had been very, very thorough. Which, well, she had said she was sending Helen, who had a habit of mothering absolutely everyone and knew Roy far too well to expect he'd have more than a half-bag of rice and some tins of vegetables left.
The bill had been left on his fridge, as requested, with a listing of each shop they'd gone to, what it had cost, and Chris' usual added charge for labour – based entirely on how much it cost to rent each woman for the allotted time period for sex – then the total written underneath. He sighed at the total, which was expectedly high, and debated how much of the bill he was going to pass on to the treasury as he pulled it down and carried the paper upstairs.
"What's that?" Ed asked once Roy made it to the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Roy waved it in his direction. "Food bill."
"Oh, yeah, you said you were going to get a neighbour to do it," Ed recalled as he took the paper. His eyes went wide when he saw the total. "Holy shit, Mustang. What did you do, hire prostitutes to do your shopping?"
Roy choked out a laugh – he could admit that he hadn't expected Ed to get that from the high cost of labour, and he really needed to remember that the young man wasn't a teenager with zero interest in sex any more – and started working on his jacket. "Funny you should ask that," he said by way of admission.
Ed's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, wrapping one hand around Roy's right wrist tight enough that he couldn't quite stop a wince. "Why doesn't it surprise me," he said quietly, "that you know some prostitutes well enough to–"
"Edward," Roy interrupted just as quietly, meeting the gold eyes – swimming with anger and hurt – without flinching. "I know what you think, and you're wrong."
Ed's eyes flashed and he quickly released Roy, making to step back before Roy stopped him by grabbing both of his wrists. "So you're not just using old flings–" Ed started.
"No," Roy hissed, squeezing Ed's wrists in a bid to shut him up for a minute. "They work for my aunt, and she charges me the same thing she charges everyone else because she's a business woman and she knows I know that if I don't pay her back every last cenz, she'll make my life a misery."
Ed just stared at him, his jaw clenched and his eyes unreadable.
Roy sighed and let him go so he could run his hands through his own hair; this was not how he'd envisioned this conversation going, but he really should have known better than to expect Ed to make this easy. "My aunt, Chris Mustang, owns a pub with a brothel upstairs. At least half her regular clients are in the military, and she passes on what her ladies learn to me. I have never slept with any of those women once my aunt employed them, though I've taken all of them out to dinner at least twice, as a cover and because they deserve to be taken out sometimes by someone who's not expecting them to put out at the end of the night."
Ed relaxed slightly. "Not once?" he asked, and he sounded so hopeful.
Roy swallowed and admitted, "One of my aunt's current ladies, Emily, I knew before she came to work for my aunt, and some of the other women, in the past, met the madam through me. But once she's hired them, no, I don't sleep with them."
"Well that's...something," Ed decided, but he was still keeping his distance.
Roy took a deep breath, then offered, "Ed, what happened on the train? That's the most action I've had, other than my own hand, since I lost my sight."
Ed's eyes went wide before he set about staring at Roy, as though trying to find the lie, to spot Roy's angle. But all Roy wanted was to be honest, to keep Ed from stalking out the door and finding somewhere else to sleep, and Ed eventually relaxed the rest of the way and stepped forward to finish undoing Roy's jacket. "You're a pain in my arse."
"Sorry," Roy whispered. "My reputation has always been more to cover my intelligence sources than based on any truth."
Ed snorted as he started on Roy's shirt, managing the buttons with the sort of halting care of someone who wasn't used to undressing other people. "So, what, you're not a manwhore?"
Roy winced. "I'm not that bad," he tempered. "I've maybe slept with a fourth of the women I took out."
Ed shot him a flat look. "You're not endearing yourself to me, bastard."
Roy shook his head. "I'm not trying to–" Okay, so he didn't really want Ed to walk out on him. "I have discovered," he settled on, "that you react far better to the truth. Even when the truth is–"
"Fucked up?" Ed suggested.
"Painful."
"That too," Ed agreed before sliding his hands under Roy's shirt, pulling it out from his trousers as he encircled Roy's waist with his arms, not showing any reaction to the burn scar covering a horrifying portion of Roy's left side. But, then, Roy didn't suppose Ed had even been the sort to flinch away from scars. "How tired are you?"
Roy allowed a faint smile even as he leant forward, pressing his forehead against Ed's. "I'm probably going to fall asleep as soon as I lay down."
Ed let out a sigh that was at least half for show. "Fine. Make up sex will have to wait until morning."
Roy let out a quiet laugh and pressed a curled finger under Ed's chin so he'd look up enough that Roy could brush a kiss against his lips. "I think I can accept that," he agreed.
Ed snorted and leant up to press a much firmer kiss against Roy's lips, then pulled away before either of them could get any ideas. "Finish changing," he ordered, before turning towards the bathroom.
Roy sighed and did so, only leaving on his boxers before he climbed into bed, feeling too tired to worry about personal hygiene.
He was just starting to drift off when he felt the bed shift next to him, and Roy turned over, reaching for the warm body that came willingly. "Ed," he thought he murmured before letting go of the waking world.
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