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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, mention 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: So, that shit you lot have been waiting to hit the fan? Enjoy. XD
In this chapter, I sort of tackle Cretan and Aerugonian alchemy. Sort of. Aerugonian stuff was pulled out of my arse, Cretan stuff was borrowed – visually – from the Milos film. (I spent a day hunting down canon arrays and looking between the Amestrisan arrays and the Milos arrays and just...the fuck. You'll see.)
Related, the Milos film isn't canon for the fic. Mostly because I'm not a fan of it – the art is kind of off-putting, imo, and where they suggest it fits into the continuity has never made sense to me – but also so I could write that scene. XD
Roy did use a few more pick-up lines on Ed, just because the groaning and vaguely threatening gestures seemed to be a source of amusement for everyone.
They got dinner at one of the fancier places near the theatre district which Roy knew to have a reasonable selection of Amestrisan fare, and since neither of the princesses had proven to be particularly picky, he assumed it was a safe bet. (It was; even Kuznetsov managed to find something without too much trouble, and finished the whole thing without looking like he was doing so to be polite.)
After dinner, they joined the crowd outside the theatre. Given Roy's rank, they were shown in ahead of the rest of the crowd, and Ed looked like he wanted to complain about that, but was too relieved to have Anastasia and Natalia off the street to make a big deal about it. (Not that Roy would tell him, but he usually refused the offer to be sat in advance, or waited to show up after the doors were opened. But they'd already been nearby, and he knew Ed would be more comfortable with fewer sniping positions. And, too, he could use more pick-up lines away from the crowd.)
The play the princesses had settled on was about a soldier who was being deployed to a conflict and had to leave his family behind. It was an older play, clearly written as propaganda for the military, though no one could say exactly when it had been written or who the original playwright was. Roy had it seen any number of times over his life, as someone would generally do it at least once a season, and the conflict referenced tended to change, depending on which troupe was doing it and what the most recent bloody conflict had been. (When he'd just come back from Ishval and the play had referenced that conflict, he had walked out, and refused to go again until after his return to Central, following Maes' death.)
The play followed the soldier for the first half, covering the 'glory' of fighting for your nation, but also touching on the sorrow found in forging friendships with people who didn't make it. The second half followed the soldier's family, focussed on how strong they were and how they supported the soldier and the military from home. There were two different closing scenes, and the head of the troupe would always come out at the start of the final act and ask the audience if they felt the soldier should return home or not. Roy had seen both versions a handful of times, and while he had preferred the version where the soldier returned home, honoured and victorious, as a child, he'd found a strange sort of comfort in the soldier's death, after his own tour in Ishval.
During intermission, judging by their reactions, he and Riza were the only two members of their party who had seen the play before. The Elrics and Miss Rockbell having missed it didn't surprise him, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from raising an eyebrow at Francine.
She scowled at him. "My family never had the money for such frivolities as plays," she snapped, clearly defensive, "and I've had little use for them since."
Roy held up a staying hand. "I'm not judging you, Major; Colonel Hawkeye hadn't seen this play until six years ago."
"The general insisted he'd only ever gone on his own once, and that version had been terrible, so someone had to come with him," Riza informed the rest of them drily. Which, okay, yeah, that had, actually, been the line he'd used, though he'd explained why he'd left during intermission, and Riza had fully understood; he suspected, should he explain it again, his fellow Amestrisans would also understand.
"What, couldn't get a date quick enough?" Ed asked flatly.
Roy shrugged. "Given the most recent events, I didn't feel like bringing a date to this play."
"The brigadier general?" Al guessed, and Roy inclined his head. "Yeah, I can see that."
"Does the soldier die?" Miss Rockbell asked, casting the curtain hiding the stage a worried look.
"That's up to the audience," Roy admitted. "We'll be asked near the end, and popular opinion decides."
"You have seen both endings?" Anastasia guessed.
Roy shrugged. "A few times, yes."
"I really want to make a comment on frivolities," Ed announced, "but I've met your aunt."
"Be quiet, Edward," Roy ordered, while Al raised an eyebrow at his brother. And then Roy shot Riza a warning look, which made her hide a smile behind the drink she'd slipped out just before intermission to get.
Anastasia reached over and covered Ed's mouth, very likely pre-empting something they'd all regret, then asked, "Which ending do you prefer?"
Roy considered that for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't know that I 'prefer' either. In my experience, both endings are always performed with very honest emotion and, for anyone prone to tearing up, will almost certainly result in such. I think, in the end, it comes down to whether you're looking to leave with a smile or not, which ending is better."
Pretty much everyone turned to Riza, who cleared her throat and, sounding resigned, admitted, "I've only ever seen the ending where he dies."
"So, let's aim for the happy ending," Miss Rockbell insisted.
Anastasia glanced out over the theatre. "You may be assuming much of our vote's power."
"Think positive, Anya!" Ed insisted.
"Brother," Al said, looked amused, "Coming from you–"
"Shut up, Alphonse."
The lights flashed warningly and they all filed back into their seats for the second half.
In fact, popular opinion was for the soldier to survive, so Riza finally got to see the other ending, and Roy had politely passed his handkerchief to Natalia when he heard her sniffling, while Al sacrificed his for Miss Rockbell.
As they were filing out of the theatre, Roy heard someone call, "General Mustang, sir!" before a sergeant stopping in front of him and saluted.
Roy saluted back, frowning. "Sergeant."
"Sir, the Führer sent me to tell you to ring Lieutenant General Armstrong at your earlier opportunity."
Oh, that did not sound good. "Thank you, Sergeant," Roy replied before turning to his party, found Riza, Francine, and both Elrics looking grim, while the three Drachmans traded frowns and Miss Rockbell wrung her hands. "Colonel, please return Ambassador Kuznetsov to the embassy and pick up Orlov, then meet me at my house. Alphonse, Miss Rockbell–"
"If it's all the same, sir, I'd like to stay with you until we know what's happening," Al interrupted, wearing the Stubborn Elric Brother expression that Roy had spent four years thinking was something specific to Ed, until he'd met Al in the flesh for the first time and realised it was genetic.
Roy glanced at Ed, who gave a tight nod. "Very well. Given space limitations, Miss Rockbell, please go with Colonel Hawkeye."
Miss Rockbell let out an irritated breath, then agreed, "Fine. We can drop by the hotel and I'll get Al and me clothing to change into."
Al grimaced. "Oh, right."
Roy glanced at Riza, who gave a firm nod, then started collecting her group, while Roy turned to the two Elrics and the princesses. "Let's go."
It didn't take them long to get back to his place, and Roy didn't bother taking off his dress shoes, just went straight for the phone and pulled out the book in one of the drawers that had the phone number he'd need.
"Fort Briggs Command," the person on the other end said upon picking up.
"This is General Mustang."
"One moment, sir."
It wasn't even a minute before the line picked back up and Olivier snapped, "Where the hell have you been, Mustang?"
"Entertaining our Drachman guests," Roy returned flatly.
Olivier let out a disgusted noise. "Of course you were."
"Is there a point to your urgency, Armstrong?"
Olivier let out a harsh breath. "Vickers escaped sometime this afternoon, with one of Briggs' all-terrain vehicles," she stated flatly, and Roy couldn't stop from tensing. "The men guarding him are both dead, and weren't discovered until the replacement shift came through four hours ago. Welrod reported, when pressed, that Blenheim is also missing, but insists they can't have left North City more than six hours ago."
"I assume you have people looking for them."
"Of course we do," Olivier snapped, "But they have a head start of at least a two hours, and we can't say for certain where they're headed. Grumman already has Blenheim's family in custody, and Vickers' son voluntarily turned in his badge and agreed to spend a few nights in prison when the MPs found him, but it doesn't sound like any of them have had contact with Blenheim or Vickers since they came north for the negotiations."
Which meant it was a waiting game to see where the two popped back up. If they were smart, they'd drive along the edge of the north-western mountain range and cross over into Creta, sell military secrets for asylum, and then vanish past the borders. But, given Vickers' issues with Drachman women...
"I see. By your estimate, how long would it take them to reach Central City?" Because Roy didn't know enough about Briggs' specially-made vehicles to make any guesses, especially since they were constantly updating the technology and, knowing Briggs, never sent Central the most recent plans.
"The vehicle he stole, according to records, only had a half-full tank, so they're unlikely to get more than a few hours out of North City, unless they happen to find a supply."
"Is there a chance he took some with the vehicle?" Roy had to ask.
Olivier was quiet a little too long, before, tone disgusted, admitting, "We're still attempting to ascertain that."
"Fine. Assume they have enough for a full tank; how far should they get before they'll have to walk?"
"No closer than the border, and probably a little after dawn, assuming they're staying off the main road. If they're on the main road, they might make it to Altheim."
Either way, that left them with most of a day's walk, unless they managed to find another vehicle. And, even then, they wouldn't get into Central until the afternoon, at the earliest – Roy knew the central area and civilian vehicles well enough to make that guess – which meant they wouldn't need to actually be on alert until tomorrow. Assuming any of them could manage any sleep.
"Thank you for the warning, Lieutenant General," Roy said. "We'll be at Central Command tomorrow, should you have any further updates then."
"Noted," Olivier returned before hanging up.
Roy found the Elrics and princesses in the study, all clearly stressed. "Vickers escaped Briggs sometime this afternoon," he reported flatly, paused for Ed's heartfelt curse, then continued, "By all accounts, if he's headed this way, he won't show up until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest, and we're yet uncertain which direction he's heading."
"But you're assuming he's coming here," Al guessed quietly, and his clear understanding of the situation suggested Ed had filled him in at some point.
Roy sighed. "If he was smart, he'd head for the Cretan border and beg asylum, but he struck me as having an agenda." He looked at Anastasia and Natalia. "We'll be heading in to Central Command tomorrow morning and you both will remain with at least two members of my team, Edward, Major Kozlova, or Orlov, and either myself or Alphonse at all times."
"Understood," Anastasia agreed.
Roy looked at Ed, who gave a tense nod. "Fine." Then he turned to the princesses. "I need you both to share the room closest to Roy and mine, so Al can take the other."
"Okay," Natalia agreed quietly, while Anastasia sighed and nodded.
"What about Winry?" Al asked.
Roy left Ed to field that one while he went to answer the door, admitting Riza, Francine, Miss Rockbell, and Orlov. To Orlov, he said, "Edward will explain," and motioned down the hall, because everyone fluent in speaking Drachman was in the study. As Orlov kicked off his shoes and made for the study, Roy filled in the three women.
"Winry, you're welcome to stay over at my place tonight," Riza was quick to offer, once Roy was done, "or I can take you back by your hotel and you can either join us at Command in the morning, or spend the day in the city."
Miss Rockbell frowned, clearly uncertain.
So Roy offered, "Gracia and Elicia would very likely enjoy the chance to see you."
Miss Rockbell put on a tired smile at that. "At least I'll be easy to reach," she agreed, and Roy knew she was envisioning all the ways Ed could break his automail. "Can I borrow your phone? I'll like to ring her now and check."
"Certainly." Roy motioned her towards the phone, then glanced back at Riza.
"I'll take care of it," Riza promised. "Do you want me to ring the rest of the team and fill them in tonight?"
"Please; I should probably ring the Führer once Miss Rockbell's done, ensure we're on the same page."
Riza's expression said she knew how much he wasn't looking forward to that. "Should I bring the car by in the morning?"
Roy sighed and considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "Given Alphonse's specialty, being in a vehicle will only be a hindrance if something happens; I'd rather walk." Not to mention, if Roy had to use his alchemy, he preferred to do it when he wasn't driving a vehicle, for obvious reasons. Walking had its own dangers, of course, but the ability to easily spread out or duck into nearby buildings outweighed them.
Riza nodded in understanding. "We'll meet you at Command in the morning, then," she announced as Miss Rockbell hung up the phone.
"Thank you, sir," Miss Rockbell said as she stepped around him, then held out a bag. "Could you please give that to Al? It's a change of clothing."
"Of course," Roy agreed, accepting it. "Good night, ladies."
Riza and Francine both saluted, while Miss Rockbell managed a strained smile, then Roy saw them all out. Once the door was closed, he activated the alchemic traps, then dropped the clothing past Al, reminded everyone not to open any windows, and activated the traps on the back of the house.
And then he went to ring Grumman; given the minor emergency, maybe he'd get lucky and their Führer would just get to the point, rather than playing the eccentric. (He wasn't holding his breath.)
Somehow, Roy managed to get to sleep that night, but Ed woke him up with a nightmare after what his internal clock said could have only been five hours. Ed managed to get back to sleep, but Roy didn't, and after tossing and turning for twenty minutes or so, he finally gave up and got out of bed.
With all the bedrooms and his study filled, there weren't many places for him to retreat, but he'd remembered the promise about making an apple pie while creeping his way down the stairs, so he made for the kitchen.
Ed found him as he was slipping the pie into the oven, wrapping an arm around Roy's waist from behind and leaning against his back as he straightened. "Wondered where you'd got to," he mumbled, before letting out a yawn against Roy's shoulder.
"I was having trouble getting back to sleep."
"Sorry."
Roy shrugged; he could hardly blame Ed for having nightmares, and it wasn't his fault that the uncertain danger hanging over their heads meant Roy's mind had started running what-if scenarios and contingency plans almost as soon as it had received the absolute minimum amount of sleep required for him to function.
Ed pressed a kiss to his nape. "Whatcha making?"
"Apple pie."
Ed muffled a laugh against Roy's shoulder. "Is it all for me?"
Roy shot a flat look over his shoulder. "You're not eating an entire pie, Edward."
Ed grinned. "Well, since you made it, I suppose it's only fair you get–"
"You're not getting most of a pie, either. Or even half."
"Well, where's the fun in that?"
Roy turned in Ed's grasp and leant in to brush a kiss over his grin, then said, "There's a rule in this house about sharing baked goods with everyone in residence; if you want most of a pie to yourself, you'll have to come back without the entourage."
Ed brushed one hand along Roy's cheek and back to thread into his hair. "Are you bribing me with pie?"
Roy couldn't help a smile. "I'd bribe you with sex, but I'm fairly certain that was a given."
"Pervert," Ed muttered before leaning up to press a hard kiss to Roy's mouth, which he was all-too-happy to return.
They were interrupted before either of them could forget they weren't alone in the house, by Al saying, "Please keep your pants on in the kitchen."
Ed huffed against Roy's mouth and shot a scowl over his shoulder at where Al was leaning in the doorway. "Prude."
"Unsanitary," Al returned without missing a beat. "And I've seen your naked arse more than enough times, Brother; spare me."
"Who said it was gonna be my arse you were seeing?" Ed shot back, twisting so he could actually face Al without removing his arm from Roy's waist.
(And, really, Ed needed to stop complaining about Roy being a pervert, because he was clearly just as bad.)
Al just sighed and dropped his face into his hands.
In some weird Elric-specific version of an apology, Ed offered, "Roy's making us apple pie? It's Mrs Hughes' recipe."
Al looked up, clearly interested, and Roy had to ask, "What is the obsession with Gracia's pie?"
The brothers traded looks, and Roy couldn't see Ed's expression, but it was clear from the minute twitches of Al's face that they were having a silent conversation, which had been a lot more impressive when Al didn't have facial expressions.
Al sighed and offered, "It was the first thing on my list of what to eat. Winry made it for us as a welcome home gift."
"She got the recipe from Mrs Hughes right before Hughes' death," Ed added quietly. "Winry and I ate the one Mrs Hughes made us on the train; she said she wanted to make one for Hughes as a thank you."
Roy closed his eyes and nodded; no wonder they were both attached to it, and to it being specifically Gracia's recipe. He pushed Ed towards the table a bit and, once they'd all sat, he offered, "There's an interesting history behind that pie recipe, you know."
Both brothers shot him interested looks. "Mrs Hughes told Winry she'd met the brigadier general because of that pie," Al said.
"Wait, when was this?" Ed complained. "I don't remember that story."
Al shot him a flat look. "Well, if you hadn't vanished for four years..."
Ed huffed and slumped in his seat.
Roy suspected Al and Miss Rockbell would be holding that over Ed's head for at least as long as he was gone, and he coughed to hide his smile. "They did, indeed, meet over apple pie," he offered, and they both looked over at him again. "One of Gracia's friends, Molly, came from a family of bakers, and she often helped out at their shop in the mornings. The way Maes told it, as the newest member of the Investigations team, he was tasked with finding a cake for their commander's birthday–"
"Is that a thing?" Ed asked.
"Brother," Al complained.
Ed shrugged. "What? No one ever told me about any parties for the bastard."
Roy snorted. "It's something of a yearly mission in the Investigations department, I have found, to plan and execute a surprise party for their commanding officer, who is doing their best to discover their plans; the only time Maes tried to get my team to plan something similar, Riza stepped in."
Ed and Al traded looks before breaking out into snickers.
"I found out when Maes rang me up to complain about how unfair she was," Roy said flatly.
"Did you tell him to go fuck himself?" Ed guessed, grinning.
Roy snorted. "No. I hung up on him, then walked out and informed my team that if anyone tried planning a surprise party without Riza's knowledge, I would set them on fire when they enacted their plan."
Ed ducked his head to muffle his laughter, while Al shook his head, smiling. "I guess they didn't try any parties?" the younger Elric said.
"Thankfully," Roy agreed, before pointing at Ed. "No."
Ed's eyes glinted, and Roy had a sinking suspicion that any chance of avoiding surprise parties had just gone out the window. (At the least, if Ed was planning a surprise party, he'd most likely do so in Central, which meant Roy would have him for a couple weeks before his birthday, as well as on the day. Which...might just make up for it. Maybe. As long as Gracia or Al were dragged along to nix Ed and his team's worst ideas.)
Roy sighed. "But, yes, Maes was looking for a cake. He still wasn't particularly familiar with Central City, and he'd been told to be sneaky, so he'd been spending his evenings looking for possibilities in the paper or phonebook, and visiting places for 'breakfast' or 'lunch', said he was trying to find a new favourite bakery.
"When he walked into Molly's family's shop, Gracia was in the process of cutting some apple pie for another customer. He thought she was beautiful and was – in his own words, mind you – utterly incapable of putting words in the right order. Somehow, he managed to get apple and pie in the right order, so she assumed he wanted some, and he paid for it and fled."
"He didn't ask about the cake?" Al guessed, smile knowing.
Roy nodded. "He didn't ask about the cake. So he went back during lunch and ended up speaking with Molly's father about the cake. It turned out that they didn't do cakes, but he was able to point Maes to a couple shops where he'd have better luck, and he did end up getting the cake at one of them and they managed to surprise their commander."
"Okay, but what about Mrs Hughes?" Ed demanded.
Roy offered him an amused look. "Maes told me that original pie was only okay, but with his cake dilemma handled, he started going past that bakery on his way in to work in the hopes of seeing Gracia. And, every time, he somehow could only manage to say 'apple pie' to her. So he kept eating the pie every morning for about two weeks before she finally took pity on him and suggested he might like one of the other pies better, since the apple was her contribution and she knew it was terrible."
"Oh no," Ed moaned, while Al closed his eyes, both of them grinning, because they knew how Maes had been.
Roy couldn't help a fond smile at the memory of how Maes had told this part of the story, which had apparently necessitated Roy playing Gracia while Maes played himself, and he'd almost set his idiot best friend on fire in retaliation. "As I'm sure you can guess," he said as drily as he could manage, "Maes took offence to her self debasement and managed to find both his tongue and his lungs, which resulted in him telling the entire shop and a few passers-by exactly how beautiful she was and that he'd happily eat her apple pies for the rest of his life because she more than made up for the lack of cinnamon. And then he realised what he'd just done and fled."
Roy paused a moment to give the brothers the chance to stop laughing into their hands, then continued, "According to Gracia, she probably wouldn't have gone after him, except a couple of regulars and her friend all pushed her. So she packaged up a slice of pie and made for Command, where she spent almost an hour tracking him down. When she found him, she informed him he'd forgotten his pie, gave it to him, and left."
"Of course she did," Al agreed, shaking his head.
"And he must have gone back," Ed assumed.
Roy nodded. "He did. And she asked about his cinnamon comment, because she had been putting cinnamon in, but not enough, I assume?" He shrugged, because he hadn't been interested, when Maes had been telling him the story the first time, in asking after those specifics. (Honestly, at the time, he'd just wanted Maes to shut up and go away, but that had been fairly normal for their friendship.) "He offered, after a couple more days, to be her taste-tester, which turned into talking over her kitchen table while the pie baked." He snorted and shook his head. "Maes talked about that stupid pie so many times while we were in Ishval, I honestly expected it wouldn't live up to the hype."
"It does," Ed and Al chorused.
"It does," Roy admitted. "She gave me the recipe when I was transferred to East City, and made me a pie for the train."
"Did you eat the whole thing?" Ed asked, his eyes gleaming.
Roy cleared his throat, because he very nearly had. "Riza had some."
Ed grinned like he knew what Roy hadn't said – he probably did – while Al shook his head. "You two deserve each other," he muttered.
Ed turned to Al with raised eyebrows. "And how is May, little brother, mine?"
Al let out a surprised cough, his cheeks dusting with pink. "May? She's– May's...fine. She's doing just fine, last I heard from her. Why?"
Ed just stared at him, chin braced in the palm of one hand.
Well, Roy hadn't known about this, though it did explain how gloomy Al had sounded for the two months following Princess May's return to Xing, once they no longer needed her to hold their hands in lab two. Why he'd cheered up was still a bit of a mystery, but Roy assumed the princess had managed to re-establish communication around then.
Al cleared his throat, then insisted, "You should tell us about whatever weird alchemy you discovered in the west."
"You're changing the subject," Ed pointed out. "And maybe I'd rather hear about the alkahestry you learnt from May."
Al cast a look towards Roy, a silent plea for assistance, and he covered a smile before pointing out, "I don't think you're staying long enough for a proper emersion in the fundamentals of alkahestry. And I, too, am interested in the alchemy of our neighbours."
"Traitor," Ed complained.
But Al had perked up. "No, that's a good point. You're gonna have to stay put for about a month for a proper foundation in alkahestry, so you'll just have to plan your next visit to be longer."
Ed stared between them for a moment, before snorting and rubbing at his face. "Fucking shit, you two are conspirators, aren't you? First Roy's bribing me with pie and sex, and now Al's putting alkahestry on the pile? You both suck."
"We missed you," Al returned flatly, and Ed winced. "You've been gone for four years, Edward. Remember how it felt when Dad–?"
"Don't you dare–" Ed hissed, narrowing his eyes at his brother.
Al levelled a hard stare on him. "How much like him are you intending to become?"
Ed shoved away from the table and took two quick steps away, towards the kitchen door, before stopping just before Roy started to remind him that the traps were active. He stood there for a long moment, back straight and shoulders tense, before bowing forward and wrapping his arms around himself.
Al must have anticipated him, because he was out of his seat and stepping up to Ed's side before he could finish collapsing, wrapping his brother in a hug and whispering something too quiet for Roy to catch.
Rather than trying to interject himself in what was clearly a family discussion, Roy turned to watch the oven. And he couldn't even pretend to be hurt at not being included; Ed and Al had been the most important people in each other's lives since long before he'd met them, and Roy would never dream of trying to get between them.
That said, it was extremely gratifying that, instead of returning to his chair, Ed sat himself in Roy's lap. Which was nothing like holding Elicia – who was the only person he had any experience with trying this particular position – because Ed was both heavier and taller, but he'd braced his automail leg against the floor, taking a portion of his weight, and wrapping his arm around the warm body pressing against him was completely natural. It also felt natural to press a kiss against Ed's jaw and ask, "Okay?"
Ed nodded and fingers threaded through Roy's hair. "When's the pie going to be done?" he asked hopefully.
Al snorted, but left it for Roy to drily reply, "Hours."
"Could you–?" Ed snapped his fingers and offered Roy a grin that didn't look nearly as strained as Roy had half expected it to look.
Roy raised an eyebrow at him. "Not if you want it edible." Because he'd learnt a long time ago that no amount of flame alchemy could speed up the cooking process. Excellent for turning possible food into charcoal, not so much for actually cooking it.
"How not edible?" Ed asked, looking like he couldn't help himself, and Al let out a quite groan.
Roy didn't have his gloves, but the hob had a tiny flame under the safety cover that was intended to stay lit, and it had been fine when he'd put in the pie, so he clapped his hands together, activated his familiar array, and turned one of the leftover apples – which had rolled down the worktop towards the sink and he'd been too lazy to retrieve – into charcoal, being extremely careful to avoid damaging the worktop so much that a bit of scrubbing wouldn't fix it.
Al cleared his throat. "Right."
"You can't moderate the heat?" Ed asked.
Roy raised both eyebrows at him.
Ed grimaced. "Oh. Yeah, I guess a direct flame is a direct flame, no matter how you slice it. Or burn it."
"Just stop," Al ordered.
"Blast it?" Ed suggested.
Al sighed. "Sir, a pick-up line?"
Ed covered Roy's mouth to pre-empt the handful of fire-based pick-up lines he had in his repertoire – which was too bad, really, and he was probably far too entertained by Al turning his pick-up lines into a form of punishment for Ed – and said, "So, Aerugonian alchemy isn't too different from ours." Al and Roy both shot him interested looks, and Ed grinned between them. "From what I can gather, they learnt it from a couple of Amestrisan alchemists who'd defected back in 1600-something. It's got a much stronger water-focus than we do, with the sea access and kind of way too many lakes and rivers. Not much ice-based alchemy, weirdly, more moving the water around, kinda like we do with earth."
He waved a careless hand around and let out a vaguely irritated huff. "There was this one pompous fuck I ran into, called himself the only true Aerugonian alchemist. Swore he could use the motions of the tide to power his alchemy, same way the Xingans use that whatever-the-fuck May and Ling were blathering on about."
"Lung Mei," Al offered. "The Dragon's Pulse."
"That bullshit, yeah," Ed agreed, and Al rolled his eyes, clearly far too used to his brother to take insult. "Anyway, no real way to verify either way, but he couldn't do any crazy shit like transmute from a distance, and he seemed to think the idea of healing alchemy was a kid's prank or whatever, so I call bullshit. Because, seriously? You say you're using the motion of water to power your alchemy, but you can figure out blood flow? Bull. Shit."
Roy kissed the palm still covering his mouth, and when Ed drew it away with a vaguely confused smile, he asked, "And how many times did he attempt to kill you?"
"Ha!" Ed said, probably a little too loud, and Al immediately shushed him. He flapped a hand at Al, but did quiet his voice when he continued, "I had backup. Also, he'd been pissing a lot of people off, so they sort of started calling him on his shit and I made my escape." He pointed between them, a serious look on his face. "Do not use knives to fight alchemists who can whip water around. Just a tip." And then he flashed a smirk at Roy. "You should just–"
"Be quiet, Edward," Roy interrupted, rolling his eyes.
Ed grinned and leant in to kiss him, then slipped off his lap. "Paper? Writing implement? Tell me I have to go into the study–"
"Brother," Al complained.
"There's paper in the dining room," Roy offered. "On the sideboard just to the right, when you walk in. And there should be pens in the drawer."
"What if there aren't?" Ed asked as he started for the dining room.
"Then I'll find one upstairs; let Orlov sleep."
Ed huffed, but he came back quickly enough to suggest he'd found everything he'd needed in the dining room. He dropped the paper and two pens onto the table, then dropped back into his chair and started sketching unfamiliar arrays, talking about them the whole time. As he explained parts, Roy realised he could relate the water arrays back to some of the water-based Amestrisan arrays he'd seen over the years, and he found comprehension on Al's face, too, when he looked up at him.
While Al and Roy looked over the arrays Ed had deemed 'safe to practise indoors', the former alchemist got a couple of bowls, filled them with water, and brought them back over to the table.
And then, somehow, Roy found himself learning Aerugonian water alchemy.
Of course, because he was an Elric, Al figured out how to modify one of the arrays to allow for temperature change, and he and Ed started a hissed argument while Roy got up to check the pie and, finding it ready, pull it out of the oven. Which then required he catch Ed when he went after the treat before it could cool off.
"Give it ten minutes, or you'll burn your tongue and not be able to taste it," Roy insisted, because he suspected that was a better deterrent than 'you'll burn your fingers,' which was usually what Gracia and he used on Elicia.
Ed huffed, but obediently returned to the table, stealing back the array Al had modified and stacking it with the rest of the paper he'd used, then dropping that to the floor. Which rather defeated the purpose of stacking them together, Roy thought, but he already knew that Ed existed in a constant state of vaguely-organised chaos.
"Cretan alchemy," he said, "is freaking weird. I swear to fuck, someone must have had an issue with straight lines, because you get triangles, sure, but everything is just sort of...swirly."
"Swirly," Roy repeated flatly, while Al blinked a few times, looking like he wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or not.
Ed gave a vigorous nod, then started sketching out an array that...included swirls.
"...the fuck?" Al said, leaning forward over the table as Ed started adding what looked to be a curved corner, which just...
"It's not even staying within the boundaries of the circle," Roy couldn't help but complain, because one of the curved corners had gone over the line of the outer circle.
"We know a couple of arrays that do that," Al admitted, and Roy raised an eyebrow at him, mostly so he didn't have to look at the train wreck Ed was drawing. "But I know what you're saying; all the arrays I know, it's a smaller circle or the points of a triangle that are escaping, to bleed off some of the excess power. But this..."
"I'm starting to understand why Pedro was so fucking amused the first time he showed me a Cretan array," Ed commented as he sat back, grinning down at the array he'd sketched. Then he looked towards the cooling pie. "Can I have some now?"
Roy shook his head. "Explain this nonsense."
Ed rolled his eyes and traced the curve of one of the swirls with the butt of his pen. "Cretan alchemy was built on the idea of recycling energy, creating a powerful transmutation with less energy expended." He shrugged. "From my observations, in practise, the energy exchange is about the same for Amestrisan alchemy, but I supposed that might not have held true when they first started developing it.
"Whatever. So, the swirls are supposed to sort of trap energy, keep it going in the same spot for a longer period. The curved edges are to ease the passage of the energy, keep it from getting stuck in any corners. In concept, an interesting idea, but since Amestrisan alchemy uses corners to gather and dispel energy, not as pathways like the Cretans seem to think, it just ends up looking silly."
"Silly, yes," Al agreed. "I can definitely see the silly. What is this supposed to do?"
"Heal cuts," Ed offered as he got up, clearly intent on the pie.
"They have healing alchemy?" Al hissed before snatching up the array to stare at it.
Roy let him have it, mostly because he felt like he needed to keep an eye on Ed around the pie.
Once three slices had been cut and served onto the plates Ed had got out with only a little grumbling, Roy slipped the remainder of the pie into the cooling oven to keep it warm, then returned to the table with his own slice, only to find Al making irritated noises over the Cretan array, while Ed watched him with a wide grin and a full mouth.
"Swirls," Al complained before sliding the array across to Roy. "You try."
Roy took the array and looked it over as Al took an angry bite of pie. He could sort of see why Al was so irritated; one of the swirls went nowhere, and the array just looked unbalanced.
Ed had said it was for healing cuts, and while Roy probably knew more medical arrays than Al – he was keeping an eye on the labs and got copies of every completed array they came up with, as well as the basic research attached, so he could test it himself – everything they were working with was Xingan-based, which used the same sharp points and straight lines as Amestrisan alchemy.
Still, most healing alchemy, in Roy's experience, was useless unless there was something to be healed, so he slid his thumb along the edge of the paper, wincing at the papercut – intentional papercuts always seemed more painful than unintentional ones, somehow – then held his finger over the array and tried to activate it.
Nothing.
He glared at it for a moment, then picked up the paper and waved it at Ed. "We may need a demonstration."
Ed just sort of stared at him, looking vaguely wide-eyed, while Al sighed and said, "I suppose I can take a trip over to Creta, see if I can't find someone to walk me through a couple arrays, then come back and show you, sir?"
"Please don't," Ed got out, voice strained. "You look enough like me, they might shoot you."
Roy closed his eyes – that sounded like the sort of horror-story international incident he'd been expecting to hear about sooner – while Al complained, "Brother. What did you do?"
"There was a military prick with his head shoved up his arse. We had words," Ed returned flippantly.
Somehow, Roy managed to keep from groaning. He also added it to his mental to-do list that he needed to somehow smooth things over with the Cretan military once they had a working treaty with them. (Which was probably getting ahead of himself, but this was Ed; planning the damage control ahead of his next misdeed was something of an ingrained habit.)
Then Ed sighed and took the array from Roy, bringing him to open his eyes. "You don't have to go to Creta," he muttered as he sat the paper on the table. "Hands," he requested, and Roy immediately held them out.
"Brother," Al said uncertainly, while Ed took Roy's hands and twisted his left one to find the papercut, "you can't–"
"I gave up my Gate," Ed said flatly. And then he clapped Roy's hands together.
The array on the paper flashed through Roy's mind, even as green energy – an unfamiliar colour – lit up their joined hands. The energy build up felt the same, but the way it was drawn through him was far from straightforward, took a sort of meandering path that should have made it grow slower, but somehow didn't. "Oh," he thought he heard himself say, just before the growing energy sparked across his papercut and closed it, then died out.
Al leant over the table, his eyes wide and bright, and hissed, "Did you just do alchemy using the general's Gate?"
Ed flashed him a grin that only looked a little strained. "Yup."
"It's a little like he leans over and takes the wheel of the car from you," Roy commented, and Ed frowned at him. He shrugged. "It is. I still have control over whether you've got the gas to do what you want, but you're the one directing the car."
"I can't drive," Ed deadpanned.
Al covered his face and started letting out muffled laughter.
Roy raised an eyebrow at his lover. "That might explain how many times we've had to repair buildings and streets after you went through."
"Hey! I fixed those!"
"Some of them," Roy agreed, nodding. "Usually with your particular brand of–"
"Cool?"
"Not quite what I was going for."
"Tasteless," Al offered.
"You suck," Ed insisted, pointing at his brother. "I'll have you know I have excellent artistic aesthetic."
Al let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'bullshit', then said, "I think I was too distracted to consider that a demonstration." And then he held his hands out to Ed.
Ed stared at him for a moment, before commenting, "It helps if there's actually something to heal."
Al picked up and transmuted his fork into a knife to cut himself with, while Roy frowned at Ed; was he actually nervous about trying this with his brother? He'd been nervous with Roy, too, originally, but since he'd said his ability was based on trust...
Roy could understand Ed thinking he might not trust him enough, but he couldn't imagine a world in which Al didn't wholly trust Ed. Be annoyed or angry with him, certainly, but not trusting him?
Al held his hands back out, a line of blood marring his right thumb. "Well?" he challenged, and Roy realised he'd caught Ed's discomfort too, and was responding by pushing him.
Ed reached out, stopped just shy of touching Al for a beat, then took a deep breath and quickly clapped Al's hands together.
The reaction was pretty much instantaneous – either it was easier for Ed to use Al's alchemy, or Roy was right about it only seeming to take longer – green light blazing out around their hands before focussing on the cut Al had made, then dying away.
And then Al got up and grabbed Ed in a hug, which he seemed all-too-willing to return.
When Al sat back down, they were both smiling, looking far better for that little display, and Roy had to hide his own smile by taking a bite of what was left of his pie.
"So," Al said, looking at Roy, "is the flow of energy weird, or was that Brother's driving?"
Ed let out a disgruntled noise.
Roy snorted a shook his head. "Part of the array. It sort of...meanders?"
Al nodded. "That, yeah. It's weird, but I guess it makes sense with the spirals?"
"If you can call any part of this alchemy 'sensible'," Roy agreed, and Al coughed a laugh into his hand.
"You two wanna see swirls?" Ed said in a way that sounded vaguely threatening as he picked his pen back up and pushed the healing array off the table towards the rest of his pile, clearing the pile of unused paper. And then he started drawing again.
Roy glanced up at Al, and he felt better to find his trepidation mirrored in the blond's face. "Coffee?" he suggested a bit helplessly, and Al started nodding, while Ed laughed at both of them.
Yeah, it was definitely time for coffee.
By the time the rest of the household had got up, they'd gone through all of Ed's arrays and Roy and Al had finally given in and were trying to give Ed a crash course in Xingan alkahestry. Which he seemed to be having about as much trouble with as every other Amestrisan alchemist, and they were trying to teach him the simplified version that Al and Princess May had spent a year developing.
Of course, the fact that Ed couldn't actually practise the alchemy probably wasn't helping matters; he'd tried, but Roy and Al were both already familiar with the process, so they naturally supplied the information Ed was missing, but it didn't seem to translate to him the same way him using them to activate an array left them with his knowledge. Which meant he needed to find an alchemist who had never used this alchemy, and who trusted him enough to let him use their connection to the Gate, if he wanted to work out the kinks in a practical manner.
Without that, they were left with trying to explain the differences with words and sketching it on what was left of the paper Ed had brought from the dining room. (And Al trying to explain the Dragon's Pulse was probably not helping, in all honestly.)
The appearance of the Drachmans probably helped the most, because Roy had to get up to make them all food, and Ed was always soothed by food. It also gave him the opportunity to attempt bullying the Drachmans into giving him their slices of pie; Orlov took great pleasure in eating his in Ed's face, and Anastasia was clearly immune to his pathetic face, but Natalia apparently decided she didn't like it, so Ed got to eat pretty much her entire slice. (Roy was fairly certain he was asking her how she couldn't like apple pie between bites, but it was hard to tell when he was speaking in Drachman with a full mouth.)
Once everyone had eaten and got dressed for the day, they headed out. The others all looked a little uncertain about not taking the car, but the brothers, at least, both relaxed when Havoc joined them at the end of the block, and Breda found them partway down the next block. (And this sort of situation was the entire reason, Roy knew, that his team had found places near his. So that when he needed a guard detail, or he needed some extra firepower because his house was under attack, they would be there. It was also the reason that Falman and Fuery didn't live nearby, because neither of their strengths were really good for being in the field, though he knew they could manage, but they were excellent in support positions, so long as the action didn't interfere, which meant they were best in another neighbourhood.)
Falman and Fuery were already in when the rest of them made it to the office, Fuery keeping on top of getting what information he could via the phone and radios, while Falman was keeping track of incoming information on the maps of the northern and central areas that had been spread out over the desks.
Havoc dropped his bag in his chair, took a long look over the maps, then left to gather what intelligence he could from other people in Command, while Breda caught Falman and had him fill him in on everything they knew so far.
Roy led the rest of the group into his office, stepping forward to close the blinds right off, then moving to hang up his coat. "I need to go meet with the Führer," he said, because Grumman had requested he stop by as soon as he got in to, Roy could only assume, update the brass fully on the situation, and start everyone collecting the same information that he was nearly certain his team was already well on top of. "I doubt your attendance will be an issue, but I expect you'll find it less tedious to remain down here."
Anastasia stepped forward and motioned between herself and Natalia. "We would help. It is our lives that are in danger, and it is not in us to sit back and let others stand in for us, no matter what Batya says," she finished, turning a glare on Ed.
Ed held up his hands. "Hey, I know better than to get between you and a brawl."
Anastasia sniffed, while Natalia and Al let out very similar sounds of resignation.
Roy coughed to help himself suppress a smile. "I do appreciate you wanting to assist," he offered, "but I built this team to function without any outside assistance, even my own." The princesses traded frowns, while Ed and Al's mouths thinned; they, at least, knew exactly how effective his team became in an emergency, even when spread out across the country. "That said, you're welcome to make an offer; Captain Fuery might appreciate an extra pair of ears on the radio, and Colonel Hawkeye might appreciate some help sorting through the piles of paperwork that have been building up."
"But not signing any of it," Ed cut in, his eyes sparkling. "That's still your job, you lazy bastard."
Roy flashed him a smirk. "I know you can forge my signature, Edward."
Ed shot Al a vaguely panicked look, but Al just sighed and said, "I told you he'd find out."
"Speaking of..." Roy murmured, turning to find the lab reports he hadn't been able to get to before they'd left for Briggs, and completely unsurprised to find they'd bred since.
"I'm not doing your fucking work for you, you–" Ed started, only to shut up when he saw what Roy was holding out. "Oh. Give me those."
"Are those the alchemy lab reports?" Al asked, looking interested as he sidled up next to Ed, who made a point of trying to keep them out of Al's sight while also still being able to read them himself. "Brother!"
"Or," Roy added to the princesses, "you can watch what is certain to turn into an entertaining fight over classified military documents." Which earned him knowing grins from both of them.
"Sir," Riza said as she stepped into the office with Francine, her expression disapproving.
Roy snorted. "Alchemy, Colonel; no one's going to care if the Elric brothers get a look at those."
Riza sighed, but the fact that she kept her gun holstered said she didn't have an argument for that. "I assume you'll be with the Führer all morning?"
Roy somehow kept from sighing himself as he walked back around his desk to grab a pad of paper and pen. "Likely. I'd prefer Anya and Natalia remain within the office, but they're welcome to assist in the team's efforts." He glanced at her and Riza gave a minute nod; she'd find things to keep the princesses busy with. He stepped back around his desk with his writing things. "Edward!"
Ed and Al both looked over at him from over the stack of reports, which Ed had split and given half of to Al. "Leaving?" the elder guessed.
Roy inclined his head. "Try not to destroy anything while I'm gone."
Ed snorted as he turned back to his reports. "No promises."
Roy sighed. "Ladies," he offered to the women, then stepped out and caught Breda and Falman to give him a brief update: They'd found the vehicle Vickers had stolen about an hour ago, just north of the north-central area border, which meant he was headed this way. The vehicle had been stashed inside a barn, and the family who owned the barn had been murdered in their beds. The family was reported to only own a horse-drawn cart, and both the cart and two horses were missing, but there were a few small towns in the region, and some people had motorised vehicles. They were trying to find out if any had gone missing so far, but were working with the assumption that he was travelling by cart until proven otherwise.
"If we get a sighting, interrupt us," Roy ordered, and both men gave sharp nods. "Good. I should be back by lunch. If Havoc gets back and wants to go out, have him pick something up. Otherwise, we'll have the cafeteria send something up."
"Sir."
"And if either of the princesses want to leave the office, they're to be accompanied by two people and either Al or myself. For anything."
"Do they know that?" Breda asked with a frown.
"They do."
He nodded. "I'll make sure Kain and Jean know, then." Then he snorted. "Least it'll be easier to pull Al away from those reports than the boss."
"You may be underestimating how alike they are," Roy warned, and Breda flashed him a knowing grin. He shook his head and left the management of their guests and hunting down every possible scrap of information in the capable hands of his team.
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