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batsutousaiTitle: Reverti Ad Praeteritum
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Gracia Hughes/Maes Hughes, post-Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Warnings: Spoilers like whoa, Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, mute!Ed, original character death, angst, fluff, past dub-con, past adultery, Ed has all the guilt
Summary: Unwillingly forced to serve as a human trial for a crazy alchemist experimenting with time travel, Edward Elric finds himself standing across from Truth in the moment it takes his leg from him. Armed with the knowledge of what's to come and burdened with guilt for the choices he'd made as an adult, Ed sets out to fix every mistake he ever made and save every life they ever lost, no matter what it takes.
Key: "Speech" | 'Mouthing words'
'Writing'
:Sign Language:
"In another language" | 'In another language'
A/N: The array Al turns up this chapter is borrowed, with permission, from StillNotGinger10's fic. (I did make some changes, to keep it from being quite the easy fix-it it could have been. XD)
I'm glad everyone seems to really like Colourway. :3 He's maybe a little bit inspired by Shakespeare's habit of having someone acting like a fool, but who's actually a lot smarter than the other characters know. (Also, I just really, REALLY wanted a character who mucked about with colours and wanted to paint his lab, and he's what happened. ^^; )
A number of people asked about drawing him: Please feel free! I'd love that. :D
Chapter Fourteen
-0-
Edward,
Actually, it's your brother who checks in with me. He's always polite about it, yet I get the sense he's plotting ways to torture me if I don't comply. I suspect he and Maes are in collusion, but I do believe you got the less terrifying opponent.
As I have never had occasion to torment any homunculi, as of yet, I will simply have to take the word of yourself and that other me, though I will admit to finding some pleasure in watching human idiots dance to my tune. (Please don't ever repeat that to Maes.) Am I to assume this amusement is related to your habit of losing your military guard? (Which I feel as though I should tell you to stop, as a ranking officer, but I'm aware you have nothing to fear from Scar. Also, your brother laughed in Falman's face when he suggested someone needed to remind you the guard detail was for your own safety.)
Are you an expert on human transmutation? I only know of the one occasion. Though, I do recall a mention of trading your alchemy for your brother, which I assume would count? (And, I admit, I couldn’t really comprehend, until I substituted Maes or Riza, and concluded that, yes, they are far more important to me than flame alchemy. However, I suspect that alchemy is a far greater part of your life than it is mine, from observing your brother.)
Roy Mustang
Mustang's response letter arrived sometime on Tuesday, and Ed had caught himself laughing at how perfectly stupid the bastard was when he wasn't trying to be some untouchable dick. He liked this Mustang.
Dammit.
He actually started to work on a response right away – Hughes was going to be pushy, he might as well – but stopped partway through when he realised how late it was.
The next day, of course, he got a letter from his brother, wherein Al admitted to using a trip down to see Granny to disguise a stop to hunt down Dr Marcoh. Ed wanted to go out to East City and beat his brother around the head, he really did, because pulling stupidly dangerous shit like this was Ed's bad habit, not his brother's; Al had always been the well behaved one.
But, as with the Ishvalans, he'd come back with invaluable information, and Ed felt his irritation melt away as he stared down at the included array – something that Marcoh had apparently been working on for years – which would free the lives trapped in a Philosopher's Stone all in one fell swoop, without using them for any other alchemy, good or ill.
'We can use it on the Xerxesians,' Al had written, 'after the DitF is gone.'
More than that – what Al hadn't needed to write – they could use it against the homunculi. They could use it against the Dwarf in the Flask himself.
They'd still wait for Hohenheim to show up, because there was nothing wrong with going in with more power than they'd need, and they'd still have to get close enough to use the array, or make a kunai stick on one of their opponents for long enough for Ed or Al to activate the array through the Dragon's Pulse, assuming it would work with it. (Not all arrays would, and Ed didn't really have a Stone handy to test it on, unless he wanted to start yanking them from the ground again, and he wasn't certain that was wise, as close as he was to the Dwarf in the Flask's base of operations.) Still, this was the sort of priceless weapon that Ed would have considered worth nearly any risk to get his hands on.
But he was kind of annoyed with Al for making Ed's own bad life choices. So, in a rather backwards attempt to spite his brother, he finished the letter to Mustang and took it down to Hughes, instead of writing Al.
"I'm kind of freaked out," Hughes admitted as he accepted the envelope. "Why doesn't this feel like a victory?"
:Al's being stupid and I need Führer Bastard to yell at him for me,: Ed returned with a flat stare.
"Oh dear," Gracia murmured.
"Is he channelling you again?" Hughes guessed.
Ed scowled and left before one of the two of them could start pointing out he was a hypocrite. (As if he didn't already know that.)
Bastard,
My brother may be terrifying, but your best friend uses children against me. Also, bribery. And I'm pretty sure blackmail would be involved, but I've been doing my best to avoid giving him anything to use. I'll trade you.
Alchemy has its uses, yes, but Al is my only family. I can live without a great many things, but Al has never been one of them. Even when he was in Xing, while I was in Aerugo and Creta, I felt better knowing that at least he was alive somewhere, and I'd see him again. I told you, suffering through hell is easier when you're not going at it alone--he has always been my security blanket, as childish a concept as that might be. (Don't tell him that, or I'm telling Hughes about you making idiots dance to your tune.)
But, yes. Only counting our attempt to transmute Mum once, and counting soul alchemy--which is related, for obvious reasons--I've performed human transmutation 5 times. Mum is the only one I consider a failure. (Which is as much as I ever intend to say on the topic, no matter how secure the communication.) I believe that makes me an expert.
Last, please find some minor crime to charge my brother with so you can lock him up until you're all transferred back to Central? I'm tired of hearing about him pulling stupid-arse stunts.
E. Elric
On Friday, Envy didn't bother with the animal duplicity, apparently realising that there was no way he could track Ed as anything other than a human. Not that Ed gave him the chance to do that, either, slipping silently into an open shop when Envy was distracted by a loud bang across the street. He slipped out the shop's side door with a nod to the grinning proprietor – the father of one of Nina's friends, who had heard about Ed's escape trick and offered to let him use his shop, should he ever have the occasion – then scaled the alley wall using his kunai and a drainpipe.
Down on the street, Envy seemed to be going from shop-to-shop and alley-to-alley in an attempt to find him, from the movements of his Stone.
Ed snorted to himself, fixed the rusty pipe the shop's proprietor had mentioned over the weekend and Ed had happened to overhear – he honestly had no idea if it had been on purpose or not, but considered the fix fair trade for letting him lose his guard via the side door – then started towards the city limits.
He'd made it about four roofs over, when he became aware of a rush of souls – wrapped in a sense of absolute darkness and shaped as a wide, fast-moving blanket at ground level – spreading out in his general vicinity.
He stumbled to a stop, turning in the direction of the nearest drop down to street level. It felt a little like Envy, but not, and it wasn't until he crept up to the edge of the roof and peered down into shadows that were shifting unnaturally, that he realised what it was.
Pride. Selim.
'Well,' he mouthed to himself in Xingan, sitting back on his heels, 'this is a complication I didn't expect.'
To be fair, a part of him had sort of been hoping that Selim would continue keeping to himself – or whatever task he was running for the Dwarf in the Flask that had made Envy the better watcher – but it was clear they considered keeping tabs on Ed far more important. (Probably because they couldn't; one of the things none of the homunculi enjoyed was being outsmarted by a human.)
He'd probably be better off just heading for home and trying to find a way to sneak out to Scar and Zouheir on Saturday. If not for Selim, he'd go overnight, but he didn't want to chance running across the shadow homunculus when he was at his most free; once it was his 'bedtime', he wouldn't have to worry about Mrs Bradley or any guards wondering where he'd gone off to, and he could easily hide his child form from humans in his own shadows.
Although...
Thinking about Selim's freedom, it occurred to Ed that he'd been curious about his reach, and he was unlikely to be able to come chasing after Ed right that moment. He didn't know where Selim's physical body was, but it was a pretty good assumption that it wasn't far from the presidential manor and the centre of the city.
Ed allowed himself a wide, toothy smile and climbed to his feet. 'Let's play, little idiot,' he mouthed, before backing up just enough to take a running leap across the alley part of Pride was currently in, then kept on running straight, nearly at a ninety degree angle to Scar and Zouheir, heading for lower roofs and not bothering to keep quiet.
It took a couple jumps, but Pride did finally notice him on the roofs. There wasn't really anywhere for him to hide as part of the shadows above street level, but he came rushing after Ed as best he could down below.
Ed kept his pace steady, wasn't trying to stay just ahead of Pride like he had been Scar – in fact, he doubted he could, since the homunculus didn't have a physical body in need of those annoying little necessities for movement, like breathing – just trying to find his limit quickly enough that Ed still had a chance of stopping by the hideout.
Pride stopped about three hundred yards from the city boundary, which was a fairly respectable range, assuming he was in the city centre, and plenty dangerous when fighting him, but it was good to know that he wouldn't be following Ed to the hideout any time soon.
He kept moving until he was well out of visual range of the edge of the city – in case Selim had managed to move or his shadows had resorted to climbing to the roofs and he could see further – then turned to skirt the edge of the city towards the hideout.
"You're later than usual," Zouheir said when he let Ed in.
Ed shrugged and turned to face him to sign, :They set a better guard on me today, so I had a bit more trouble losing him.:
Once Zouheir had translated that for Scar, who had stepped out of the back room once the front door was closed, Scar said, "It's time to move on."
Ed raised an eyebrow at that.
"Majhul," Zouheir explained, as Scar retreated to the back room again, which was normal for him, "has been saying he should meet with others of our people, for their help in placing the outer edges of the array, as you have discussed?"
Ed nodded in understanding. :Not a bad plan. I'm not expecting to hear from my father for a few months yet, but he's all we're waiting on.:
Zouheir nodded himself; it wasn't the first time Ed had mentioned they were waiting on Hohenheim. "I think he also intends to be seen away from Central City, so you can make that map you mentioned."
'Ah.' Ed started down the hall to Scar's room, stopping in the doorway to watch him throw his meagre supplies into a worn sack. When Zouheir had caught up, Ed signed, :The military knows about his facial scar and the tattoo on his arm, but not that he's Ishvalan. I'd like to keep that from them as long as possible, to avoid any potential backlash against your people.:
Scar didn't look up, just nodded at Zouheir's translation, but Ed could sense both of the Ishvalans' gratitude – it was so much easier to communicate with Scar when he had more than his words and poker face to go on – and Zouheir's, "That's an excellent plan," seemed to speak from both of them.
Ed shrugged. :Too many Amestrisans already hate your people because of Bradley's warmongering, best not to give them any more reason; State Alchemists may not be popular, after all, but we ARE Amestrisan, and I think this country's seen enough racially motivated wars.:
"Well said. Or, well..." Zouheir grimaced.
Ed snorted and patted his arm. :I joke about my disability all the time. You're fine.:
"I had noticed that you're quite comfortable with being mute, despite your age. My brother railed against the unfairness of his deafness until he was far older."
Scar snorted, likely because he knew Ed was much older than he looked. (He was also under the impression that Ed had been born mute and so had spent all thirty-some years getting used to his disability; there wasn't really any benefit to correcting the impression, and bringing the dangers of alchemy into any conversation with the Ishvalans was more trouble than it was worth.)
:A matter of mental maturity, perhaps,: Ed suggested a bit carelessly, :or simply personality quirks. Or just the disability itself; I don't know that I would be quite so blasé were I deaf.: Well, maybe. Muteness sometimes seemed like such a small price to pay for his knowledge of what was coming, of the chance to save Nina and Hughes and keep Al from being trapped in that armour, but he wasn't certain deafness would have fit, especially since that wouldn't have stopped Ed from communicating, either.
"There is that," Zouheir agreed. "Not having a voice is one thing, but to never be able the hear anything has always seemed wretched."
Ed offered a smile, then signed, :I guess there's no point in asking if you want me to bring you anything this weekend?:
Zouheir coughed and shook his head. "I'm assuming we'll be leaving tonight or at first light tomorrow, so no."
"I don't need you to come," Scar said flatly. "Stay here if you want."
Zouheir frowned at Ed, who shrugged and reminded him, :Pretty sure he only dragged you into things on my account. You're welcome to continue using this house, and I can come out every Friday, or you can see if one of the slum areas are okay with Ishvalans. They don't tend to care as much, but I don't know that any of your people have dared to settle this close to the military's stronghold.:
Zouheir quirked a wretched little almost-smile. "I very much doubt my people would be too interested in settling near those that wanted us dead, no. However, if this plan is to succeed–" he looked over at Scar, who seemed to be ignoring them "–we will require a presence." He looked back at Ed. "Could you show me to the southern-most slum once I've packed my things? I would like to see about setting up a place for those coming to wait."
Ed frowned. :You really want to be seen with a member of the military? We're kind of distrusted in the slums, and I don't have anywhere to stuff my jacket so they won't notice it.:
Zouheir shook his head. "To see a member of the military friendly with an Ishvalan would be quite the statement, don't you think?"
:They might think you're a spy,: Ed warned.
"Then they will aim to scare me away or avoid me, not kill me outright."
If they were lucky.
Well, it was true that setting up a safe space for the Ishvalans would help them settle around Central with limited fuss, and Ed's friendship should, with luck, keep any military patrols from harassing Zouheir – Ed could handle any potential backlash from the higher-ups, for his part – and soldiers were far more likely to react to and Ishvalan with violence than the residents of the slums.
He hadn't entered the city from that far south, yet, so... :Sure.:
Zouheir left to collect his things with a small smile.
Ed shrugged out of his jacket – not wearing it suggested he was off duty, while also giving him easy access to the bulk of his weapons, and he could turn it inside out so it was less recognisable – then pulled out his journal and wrote, 'Safe travels + good luck,' for Scar.
When Scar finally stopped fussing with his pack and Ed showed it to him, he frowned. "I am not the one with monsters holding the end of my leash; keep your luck."
Ed smiled at him and bowed, then turned to head for Zouheir's room to see how close to ready he was.
"Silent Alchemist," Scar called, and Ed glanced back at him. "You said my people will be allowed back into our holy land."
Ed nodded, then wrote, 'Most of the officers in East want that–' Al had passed that news on, after asking around on a whim '– + a number in Central–' according to Hughes, who could be trusted to know these things '–but Bradley + them won't let you. Once they're gone your people can go home'
Scar looked up from the journal after a moment, his expression unchanged, but there was a curl of hope in his qi made Ed smile. "I will take that as a promise," Scar said, his tone threatening.
Ed just smiled a bit wider and bowed again, then left to find Zouheir.
Once Zouheir had finished collecting his things and said his goodbyes, they left the hideout, Ed taking the lead south.
"Your sash is of the eastern nation, correct?" Zouheir asked after a bit, glancing over at Ed.
Ed nodded. :It's specific to the clan my brother and I were adopted by.:
"You seem young to have travelled so far. You said your father–"
:That trip had nothing to do with my father,: Ed signed, before Zouheir could continue down that thought. :We wanted to learn their alchemy, so we found someone willing to get us across the Great Desert. We only stayed two years, but we learned what we'd gone for, and we have a home to return to, if we don't want to stay in Amestris.:
Zouheir was quiet for a fair few steps, watching the ground ahead of them, before he finally looked back over at Ed and said, "You told me you'd already given up your chance to walk away."
Ed nodded. :I knew what was coming before we left for the east.:
"You are brave, to have returned."
:Or stupid,: Ed returned, shrugging.
"Perhaps," Zouheir agreed, though he didn't sound so certain.
When they were in view of the slum Zouheir had asked after, Ed reached out and touched his shoulder, stopping him. :I need you to keep quiet about what you know,: he signed with a serious expression. :I trust your people – you already hate and know to fear our military – but I cannot trust these people to not go to the nearest soldier and sell what they know.:
Zouheir frowned. "You do not trust your own people?"
Ed shook his head. :Have you met my people?:
Zouheir winced.
Ed sighed. :There are many good Amestrisans, but there are also too many who will do anything to change their station in life, even if just for a few months, and if word reaches the wrong ears, Bradley will kill everyone he suspects knows anything. For their safety and your own, keep your silence.:
"Yours must be a lonely life, Silent Alchemist."
Ed shrugged. :Maybe. But there are people I trust. My commanding officer, for one.:
Zouheir managed a smile at that, a little sad at the edges. "At least you do not live in secrets," he decided, before touching Ed's shoulder before he could turn to continue walking. "It occurs to me that I do not know your name."
Ed snorted. :He doesn't like Amestrisan names,: he signed of Scar, before pulling out his journal and writing, 'Edward Elric. Ed to friends'
"Are we friends, then?" Zouheir asked with humour.
'Accomplices,' Ed wrote, since he still had his journal out.
Zouheir let out a laugh that sounded slightly startled. "I expect that does necessitate something akin to friendship."
Ed flashed him a smile as he slipped his journal away, then motioned that they should continue.
No one seemed to pay either of them much attention, though a couple people 'whispered' slurs aimed at Zouheir's heritage – which he ignored, while Ed turned a cold glare on the culprits until they ducked their heads and shuffled off. It took them a good fifteen minutes to find someone willing to show them to a place where Zouheir could sleep, and Ed made sure he was settled in – ignoring all attempts to wave him off – before finally leaving for the city.
"So," Hughes said when he finally got in. "What's your excuse for missing dinner?"
:Are you my mother, now?: Ed asked.
Hughes blinked. "You mean your father?"
Ed snorted. :The one who abandoned us? I'm pretty sure he's a crap comparison.:
Hughes cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Right." He shook his head. "Yes, fine, I'm your mother–" two someones giggled from the living room "–so you need to explain yourself, or no dinner."
:Cruel,: Ed signed, and Hughes frowned. He sighed. :I had to dodge Pride, and then–:
But Hughes darted forward and caught his hands. "Pride?" he hissed, panic tightening the skin around his eyes and weighing down his qi.
Ed nodded and gently extracted his hands to sign, :I'm fine. Determined that he's pretty much stuck in the city, which is good to know. Scar's decided to head south, so I walked his translator friend to one of the slums and helped him get settled in.:
Hughes drew in a slow breath, still strained, but a little calmer. "Be careful," he whispered.
Ed offered a tired smile. :I know.:
Hughes took another breath and nodded, then turned to lead Ed back to the kitchen, where a plate had been left, covered, in the cooker. As Ed sat down to eat, Hughes offered, "You have a letter, by the way."
Considering he still hadn't written Al back – which he needed to do, if only to tell him about Pride and about Scar moving south – there was only one person it could be. :Führer Bastard?:
"You're getting better at this game," Hughes praised.
Ed waved a fork threateningly at him and scowled until he left with a laugh.
Edward,
I did warn you about Maes' devious ways. You, on the other hand, forgot to mention that your little brother is not nearly as gentle and innocent as he acts.
I'm not certain Alphonse would remain in a prison cell if I stuck him in one. I did have words with him when I found out he'd made a side trip while visiting Resembool. He apologised for the duplicity, and has agreed to take a member of my team during any future visits back home. I'm willing to trust him, as he has yet to show any inclination towards dodging guards, though he was notably reticent to explain his detour. All I got out of him was that he was visiting an Amestrisan with knowledge of medical alchemy.
I admit, that was more information about your familiarity with human transmutation than I had expected. However, yes, I do believe that makes you an expert. Which, considering the subject matter, I should be far more terrified by than I am.
Given your warnings, I've kept my ear out for any whispers of miracles in the north-east, and I did finally hear something. It's not yet to the point where it would be audible to the less attuned ears of East Command, but once it is in a couple weeks, I will be asked to send someone, as 'miracles' often translate to 'alchemy'. Alphonse is the obvious choice, but I can find an excuse to keep him well out of it and send a few soldiers with some limited alchemical knowledge, instead, if you'd prefer.
Roy Mustang
Ed had made himself respond to Al before even opening Mustang's letter, and he was trying to pretend it wasn't a struggle.
And then, of course, the bastard had to be perfect and gentlemanly and just...
'Fuck,' Ed mouthed, rubbing at his face.
Mustang hadn't assumed, he'd asked. He knew Ed was stressing out because his stupid little brother was picking up the worst of his bad habits, so he was leaving it to Ed to say either yes or no. And Ed knew the bastard would make it happen. If Ed said no, he would send someone else. He would fucking go himself before he let Al go out there.
This shit was why he'd started to actually like the bastard. Because, once he stopped being all high-and-mighty and 'I know best', he was better than decent; he was human. He was just a man who wanted to do the right thing, who'd tried to cry himself to sleep while in hell, and had to be talked down from killing his best friend's murderer because he cared too much.
And maybe that didn't mean much to some people – fuck, most people would see that shit as a weakness – but to Ed, who dealt in monsters and the stark white Truth, that was everything. That was the sort of person he wanted leading their country, who he would trust to take them in the right direction, without flinching away from consequences. Maybe, a little bit, that was the sort of person Ed had always wanted to be, but felt he was carrying too many sins to manage. (And Mustang could spin poetry about how Ed was a good person all he wanted, but Mustang had been used, in Ishval, while Ed's crimes were all his own.)
'Respect' and 'trust'. They were the words Ed used to create distance. They sat clustered with 'crush' and 'hormones'.
Excuses.
He hadn't fooled Al, and he hadn't fooled Hughes.
He wasn't sure he was strong enough to stop lying to himself.
Bastard,
As much as I want to keep Al well away from that mess, there are only so many people I trust around a Stone, and I wouldn't want a non-alchemist facing off against someone with access to one. Unless you can find a good excuse to pull me from Central, or old man Grumman's willing to let you go, it'll have to be Al. (This actually isn't a bad test run for that array he picked up on his detour. If he hasn't shared it with you by the time you get this letter, corner him and remind him that you're already in their sights and need to have it, just in case.)
A certain friend of mine is heading south and intending to get seen at least once, so it sounds like I'll be losing my envious guard. I'm a little sad, because it HAS been fun leading him along while he tries to keep tabs on me, but since they pulled out the big shadows, it's probably a good thing. Which, honestly, doesn't mean they'll stop watching me fully, but I should have a bit more freedom to go on a few minor "detours" of my own.
Stop freaking the fuck out. I know what I'm doing.
E. Elric
Word that Scar was seen in South City spread like wildfire around Central City as soon as the news broke Monday afternoon. Bradley made them wait until Tuesday before he removed the mandatory guards from the State Alchemists, and Ed celebrated his newfound freedom by making a stop, on his way back to Investigations from lab one, to pick up way too fucking many sweets. The other translators had given grateful laughs when he offered part of his purchase around their office, and Elicia and Nina had been over the fucking moon when Gracia gave in and agreed they could each have a few pieces from what Ed had brought home.
On Wednesday, after work, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to a clearly curious Hughes, then shouldered the rest of his sweets haul and made for the southern slum on his own.
Without his jacket, and with his pocket watch chain and the slightly distinctive waist of his uniform trousers hidden under his sash, he looked like a normal civilian with a thing for military boots. (Which was actually fairly common, given they weren't completely ugly, held up fairly well under harsh conditions, and – like most of the uniform – the making of them was sourced out to civilian warehouses, so the military resources could be more firmly focussed on warmongering, which meant it wasn't uncommon to see overstock in shops in the capital cities.) So he didn't get any weird looks from the locals, and was able to make for Zouheir's tent without any fuss.
The Ishvalan was inside, meditating, but he looked up when Ed whistled and smiled when he recognised him. "Unusual for you to come during the week," he said, signing at the same time, as he so often did when his hands weren't otherwise occupied; Ed was almost used to that weird tick.
:My guards got dismissed, so I'm celebrating,: Ed admitted, before pausing to slip his bag of sweets off his shoulder and set it on the ground in front of himself. :I brought sweets to share with kids or adults or whoever.:
"Sharing your good fortune around?" Zouheir guessed.
Ed smiled and shrugged. :Something like that.:
Zouheir shot him a speculative look. "Trying to help me make friends?"
Ed couldn't quite help a silent laugh, a little embarrassed, because, yeah, actually, that had been how the idea originally presented itself to him. :I guess that was a little transparent.:
Zouheir shook his head. "As rarely as I understand the direction of your thoughts, it's almost reassuring."
:I'm not THAT mysterious.: Ed frowned. :Am I?:
"Perhaps it is simply that you don't match my expectations. You are young for the choices you bear, yet you wear them without shame. And," he added with a helpless smile, "I do have some poor preconceptions to overcome."
Ed grimaced. :Yeah, I'm sort of all the things your people have come to hate in Amestrisans.:
"Perhaps," Zouheir allowed, "we have simply learnt to hate the wrong things."
Ed considered that for a moment, then shrugged. :Perhaps. Want to make friends with the local kids?:
Zouheir chuckled and allowed Ed to lead him out to where he'd noticed a group of kids playing on his way through the streets. The children and the two watching adults all eyed Zouheir with some uncertainty, but Ed rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the ground with the bag, opening it up and pulling out a butterscotch sweet, which he tossed into his mouth before signing to Zouheir, :I can't talk, you're my super awesome translator, do they want sweets?:
Zouheir let out an amused chuckle, folding his hands carefully in front of himself. "Hello," he offered politely. "I am Zouheir, and this is my friend, Ed, from the city. He wanted to bring sweets to the children down here, in celebration of some good fortune of his own, but he cannot speak, so asked that I come along to translate for him."
One of the adults shot Ed a sympathetic look, while the other adult remained suspicious, but one of the kids approached, looking at Ed, rather than the bag of sweets, which he thought admirable restraint. "You can't talk?" she asked.
Ed shrugged and signed, :Not with my voice, but I can talk with my hands, to those who know how to understand.:
Zouheir faithfully translated that as one of the other kids crept over and snatched a sweet from the open bag, moving fast, as though afraid Ed would take them away. Ed smiled at him and pushed the bag a little further away from himself, where he'd have a harder time taking it away from them, but keeping the ankle of his automail leg caught up in the strap, so no one could try running off with the whole bag. (He'd brought the sweets to share, and he didn't intend to go home with any, sure, but that didn't mean he wanted them all to go to one person.)
"So this–" the curious kid waved her hands around a bit nonsensically "–means stuff?"
"It's called 'sign language'," Zouheir explained, crouching down next to Ed, while the other children picked out a couple of sweets. "It was created by the deaf community – those who cannot hear – over a century ago. My brother was deaf, which is how I know it; my parents travelled to your East City to find us a teacher, so we could communicate with him, and she lived with us in Ishval for almost three years while we learnt from her."
"Ishval," the girl said, as though tasting the name on her tongue. "My papa says terrible things about Ishval."
Zouheir gave a grim nod. "As my people say terrible things of you Amestrisans. Ed finds great joy, I think, in giving lie to the hatred we have been taught."
Ed scoffed. :Don't make me out to be some do-gooder. I'm an alchemist; we believe in searching for the truth, no matter how painful or unpopular.:
The kid looked at Zouheir, clearly waiting for a translation, and Zouheir cleared his throat before saying, "Ed says he is an alchemist, so he uncovers the truth, no matter what it might be."
That caught the attention of a number of kids, as well as the adult who was still looking at Zouheir with suspicion. "You're an alchemist?" one of the kids asked, clearly delighted.
Ed grinned and nodded.
"Can we see?" another kid pleaded, mouth full of sweets. "I've never seen real alchemy."
"Shut up," yet another kid muttered sullenly, shoulders hunching. "I tried."
Ed glanced questioningly towards Zouheir. :You don't have to stay if it makes you uncomfortable,: he offered.
Zouheir grimaced. "I'm resigned to your people's disregard for the divinity of creation."
Ed offered him an apologetic smile, then motioned to the sullen kid. :What array did he try?:
Zouheir cleared his throat. "Ed asks what array you used."
"Just one I saw in a book someone had thrown out," the kid admitted.
Ed shifted up to his knees, catching the sweets bag and sliding it out of the way and slightly behind him, then motioned for the kid to draw the array in the dirt.
"Oh, uhm..." The kid sort of shuffled forward and knelt across from Ed, then sloppily drew one of the basic arrays, with the symbol for working with wood.
Ed tilted his head. :He tried this on the ground?:
Zouheir translated that and the kid nodded. "Is it wrong?"
Ed quickly drew the symbols for wood and earth next to the array, writing what each were next to it.
"Oh," the kid whispered, while a couple of the others made understanding noises, or translated for those who couldn't read.
Ed flashed them all a smile, then quickly brushed the dirt clear and pulled out a kunai to retrace the array far less sloppily, switching the wood symbol for earth.
"He's good," someone said.
:What should we make?: Ed signed.
"Ed asks what he should make," Zouheir translated.
The kids immediately started shouting ideas, most of them far more complicated than a normal alchemist could manage with this simple array (though Ed could pull off some of them, and he could cheat for the rest), but Ed kept watching the kid who'd tried this once already.
"I wanted," he said quietly, and the other kids shut up, "to make my mum a pot, because ours broke."
Ed drew a couple pot designs, until the boy pointed at one with two handles. Ed nodded and added the symbol for iron to the list of wood and earth, then switched that in the array while a couple kids whispered about that. And then, he pressed his fingers lightly against the outer circle of the array and dug deep into the natural minerals below them, easily coming up with enough iron to create the pot. (Not surprising, when you realised Central City had been a battleground in the days when they'd used far more primitive weapons, and those had been as likely to be buried, as they were to be recovered and turned into something useful again.)
"Wow!" his audience called as the energy died away, leaving behind a perfect iron pot.
Ed held it out to the wide-eyed, alchemist-hopeful sitting across the array from him.
"Th-thank you," the boy stuttered, hugging the pot close to his chest.
"Is there an array for fixing things?" a girl who looked to only be a little older than Al asked.
Ed swept the current array clear, then quickly sketched the requested array and looked in her direction.
She cleared her throat and said, "I'll be right back," then fled among snickers.
"Are there other symbols?" the super curious girl from earlier asked around a sweet.
Ed nodded. :Which ones do you want to know?: he signed, and was honestly a little surprised when Zouheir translated that; his calm qi had sort of been lost in the rush of excitement from the kids around Ed.
That seemed to be the cue for the children to start calling out elements.
Ed crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the sky in a very obvious plea for patience.
Someone laughed.
The kids fell quiet for a moment, before they started trading off who would ask. They got through the major elements fairly quickly, followed by the most common metals. Then the kids started trying to stump him with things like 'pickles' and 'clouds', which he just rolled his eyes at and responded with an amused look.
The girl finally hurried back over, coming to kneel across the array from Ed, where a space had been left for her. "This was my big brother's," she said, revealing a military medal that had been attacked with something; the gold disc was dented, while the cloth ribbon was cut in two and badly frayed. "It was the only thing of his I could save," she added, blinking away tears.
Around them, their audience had gone deathly quiet; soldiers weren't particularly well liked down here, but most everyone understood loss.
Ed held out his hands and she carefully dropped the pieces of honour into them. He set them in the middle of the array and quickly traced out the necessary symbols, then pressed his fingers to the outer circle.
When the light died away, it revealed the medal, as perfect and shiny as it had probably looked when it had first been awarded. Ed recognised the colours of the ribbon and the design on the disc; this had been awarded for service in Ishval.
He picked it up and handed it back to her, offered an understanding smile when he caught sight of her tears.
She accepted it back with a quiet, "Thank you."
Ed inclined his head and watched her get up and shuffle away.
A few other people came along with household items that had broken and they were hoping to get fixed, word having quickly got around that there was a visiting alchemist. Ed was happy to do so, continuing to use the drawn array for his audience of curious kids, who kept sneaking sweets from his bag and watching on with interested eyes.
:I believe,: Zouheir signed at one point, when Ed glanced back to see if he was still there, :that you are more of a do-gooder than you give yourself credit for.:
Ed rolled his eyes at him; this shit was easy and cost him nothing, save a little time. In return, other people's lives were a little easier, and Zouheir's neighbours were less inclined to avoid him; equivalent exchange.
He was just thinking it was about time he started for home, before he missed dinner again, when there came the sound of booted feet stepping heavily in sync and someone shouted, "Now see here! What are you degenerates gathering around for? Trouble, I'll bet!"
The crowd shifted back, a few turning and running, while the children all ducked behind the nearest adult, including one behind Zouheir, who Ed stepped up next to once he'd stood.
A squad of eight men were approaching in a lazy formation, the leader a corporal. Most of them had shotguns slung over their backs, while two of them had theirs in their hands and were using them to shove at people.
"Here, now," one of the older men in the crowd said, stepping forward, "we're just having a bit of fun. A young alchemist was showing off some tricks. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
But the corporal's eyes had lit on Zouheir, and he reached for his handgun, shouting, "Ishvalan scum!"
"No!" a couple young voices shouted.
Ed took two quick steps forward and snatched the gun before the corporal could raise it all the way, releasing the clip and clearing the slide with easy efficiency – he didn't use guns, but Hughes had made him learn to disarm them, 'just in case'.
"Ed, stop," Zouheir called into the following stunned silence.
The corporal's eyes bugged. "You little shit!" he snarled, reaching for the gun strapped across his back.
Ed dropped the handgun and yanked out his pocket watch, holding it up between them like a talisman to ward off evil.
"State Alchemist," someone whispered, a few others cursing.
Well, there went any points Ed had won with the sweets and fixing things.
"S-sir," the corporal stuttered, looking more than a little boggled. "What are you doing out here?"
Ed slipped his watch away and pulled out his journal to write, 'Visiting a friend'
"A friend? Among beggars?" The corporal smiled, as though offering him the chance to join in the joke.
Around them, a couple of the slum residents shifted uncomfortably.
Ed gave the man a flat look.
The corporal's smile fell away. "Whatever you say, sir." He looked past Ed and called, "Ishvalan, your kind aren't welcome here. Get out."
"And yet," Zouheir returned calmly, "I was invited by my friend, your Silent Alchemist."
Ed put on a smile that was more teeth than anything else, then waved for the soldiers to leave.
"We're leaving," the corporal said to his men, tone making it very clear that he didn't want to do so. His men looked equally disgruntled, but obediently turned to leave, while the corporal knelt to collect the fallen pieces of his handgun.
Ed turned back towards Zouheir and signed, :I should probably–:
The flare of violent qi wasn't as much of a surprise as Ed would have wished it was – Zouheir had been the only one with calm qi during that entire altercation – and the fact that it was one of the soldiers and aimed at Zouheir was even less of a surprise.
Ed clapped and dropped to press his hands to the ground. Just as one of the civilians called, "Watch out!", a hand burst from the ground and wrapped tightly around the soldier who'd turned and aimed at Zouheir, covering the muzzle of the gun and pinning his arms to his sides.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then Zouheir blandly commented, "I didn't know you could do that."
:The reacting without looking, or the lack of a physical array?: Ed asked once he'd stood up.
"Mostly the lack of array," Zouheir admitted. "I have seen Ishvalan warriors react without looking before, though that usually involves more violence."
Ed shrugged. :Hate on alchemy all you want, but we don't always need to bloody noses to stop an attack.:
Zouheir's mouth quirked. "You'll forgive me if I continue to regard alchemy with distrust and disapproval, despite what pros there may be to it."
Ed snorted, amused, and turned towards the trapped soldier. The corporal in charge had gone pale and was clutching the pieces of his gun to his chest, looking between Ed and the trapped soldier like he wasn't sure what to do.
Ed paced over to the soldier and pulled out his journal to write, 'Try to shoot my friend again I'll get violent. Don't be stupid'
"You're protecting an Ishvalan," the man spat.
Ed shrugged and wrote, 'So?'
"I was in Ishval, boy. I know what those demons are capable of!"
'So was he but you don't see him pointing weapons at Amestrisan soldiers'
The man sputtered.
Ed sighed and wrote, 'Unless a new law forbidding Ishvalans to live here has been drafted + passed in last 3 hrs he's fine. Hold your peace or I'll leave you here'
The man clenched his jaw and nodded, so Ed clapped and freed him. As he stepped back, the man snarled, "I'll see you reported, sympathiser."
Ed smiled and gave a mocking little bow; oh, yes, he was certain Hughes was going to care about this. Fuck, even going to Grand wasn't likely to result in much worse than a light reprimand for attacking soldiers – the fuckers totally started it, and it wasn't like Ed had hurt any of them – and that was assuming a freaking private could even get an audience with the brigadier general.
He stood and watched as the soldiers left, not taking any chances this time, and was just about to turn towards Zouheir after they were out of sight, when a hand caught his and he glanced down to find the super curious girl from earlier turning his hand over, like she was trying to find something.
'Ah.' Ed shook his head, amused.
"Where's the circle?" the kid asked at last, frowning up at him.
Ed pressed a finger to his lips and winked.
"State Alchemists and your secrets," a woman snapped, stepping forward and grabbing the curious kid's arm to yank her back. "Your kind isn't welcome here, dog."
Ed held up his hands in a sign of surrender, then signed to Zouheir, :Send word to Investigations for me, if you need anything.:
Zouheir offered him a crooked smile. "Unlikely, but thank you."
Ed bowed, then turned and followed the soldiers out of the slum and back into the city proper.
He made it in time for dinner, for once, to much teasing from everyone else in the house, which he bore with, if not good, then at least reasonable, grace.
After the girls were in bed, he did warn Hughes about what had happened in the slum, so there wouldn't need to be a game of cat and mouse if Hughes heard about it while Ed was out in the labs or meeting with Grand.
"I'd ask if you're incapable of keeping your head down, but I suspect I know the answer," Hughes said a bit helplessly.
Gracia elbowed him. "As if you wouldn't have been right there helping him."
"Maybe," Hughes tried.
"Ha!" Gracia raised an eyebrow at Ed, one hand curled around the corner of the cushion next to her.
Ed grinned back and grabbed the pillow nearest him and tossed it over the coffee table at his idiotic commander, while Gracia used hers to whack Hughes in the side.
Hughes performed some theatrical flailing, while making quiet pathetic noises.
Ed leant over and grabbed the next closest pillow.
"I concede!" Hughes called quietly, raising his hands in surrender. "I would absolutely have been telling those soldiers to go away. Just with less impressive alchemy."
:More like no alchemy at all,: Ed signed, once he'd dropped his pillow back to the couch next to him.
Hughes pointed a warning finger at him, but his grin sort of ruined it. "Don't make me ground you."
Ed raised both eyebrows at him in disbelief, while Gracia dissolved into muffled giggles against Hughes' shoulder.
Hughes coughed. "That didn't come out right..."
Gracia patted his arm.
Ed shook his head and stood. :I'm going to bed before we actually manage to wake the terrors.:
"Probably for the best," Gracia agreed, laughter in her voice.
"Aren't you supposed to be on my side?" Hughes complained to Gracia as Ed left the living room, lingering just outside because he could.
"Not quite, dear."
"Then whose side are you on?"
"My own."
"How did I miss this?"
"My side does often match up with your side."
"Except when Ed's involved. Do you like him more than me?" Hughes demanded, as if his qi wasn't a mass of humour.
Gracia snorted. "Yes. We're going to elope as soon as this mess is handled, and you'll be stuck with Roy."
"I knew it!" Hughes exclaimed in a hush.
"You're ridiculous," Gracia informed him, followed by a great deal of kissing.
Smiling and shaking his head at the pair of them, Ed made his way upstairs to sleep.
When he wandered into Hughes' office at the end of the day on Thursday, so they could head home, his commanding officer shot him an amused look and said, "Consider yourself formally reprimanded for attacking another member of the military yesterday. Don't do it again and so on and so forth."
:I have been formally reprimanded,: Ed promised, before flopping into his favourite of the two couches. :Did one of them come themselves? Or...:
Hughes snorted. "It came in with the afternoon paperwork. Formal complaint, filled out in the best military-grade form." He waved a flimsy piece of paper at Ed.
:Feel free to bin that,: Ed suggested.
Hughes did so, then signed off on one last paper and slipped it into his outbox. Once he'd capped his pen and set it in the holder, he stood and stretched, letting out a loud groan that Ed was becoming all too familiar with hearing all over the place, including from himself; anyone who said working in an office was easy, had never spent eight hours hunched over a desk, squinting at lines of text and writing out corrections or translations.
"So, what do you think's for dinner tonight?" Hughes asked as he collected his jacket and Ed pushed himself up out of the couch.
:Stew.:
"You say stew every day."
:I live in hope.:
"Speaking of hope," Hughes said, pulling an envelope out of his jacket and holding it out to Ed.
His name was scrawled on the front in familiar handwriting, and Ed scowled as he took it and slipped it away, then signed, :How is hope related to that?:
"I live in hope," Hughes insisted.
:You live in a twisted little–:
Hughes swatted his hands to shut him up. "Hush. No mocking my happy place, you old grouch."
Ed snorted, but held his peace.
Edward,
Why is it that your reassurances aren't even passingly comforting? Can you at least take Maes with you on your "detour"?
Once I hear about the brewing incident through the proper channels, I'll go ahead and send Alphonse out there with Havoc or Riza. (More likely Havoc; this sounds like the sort of town Riza would stand out in.)
Your brother did pass on the array on his own, as well as your update about those shadows. With luck, they won't decide you need a full-time covert watch, simply because you were always managing to dodge the obvious one.
Roy Mustang
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