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batsutousaiTitle: Dragon's Gold
Series: Chimera-Dragons 'Verse
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Alternate Universe, worldbuilding, dragon!Roy, chimera!Roy, prince!Ed (Ed is the worst prince), demi!Ed, whipping as punishment, Ed's potty mouth, mention of inhuman experimentations, mention of torture, dragon!Maes, dragon!Riza, dragon!Kimblee, background character death, graphic depictions of violence, fluff, angst
Summary: Prince Edward is a pain in his parents' behinds, and they eventually resort to locking him up in a tower with a dragon in hopes that some enforced solitude will help him sort out his priorities. Unsurprisingly, this doesn't quite work out the way they'd hoped.
Edward ended up in the library for the rest of the day, scouring through the library meant for a crown prince and trying to find the law about chimerae, needed to find some way to keep Roy safe from persecution by the Xerxesians.
There wasn't anything, of course – the law was very clear about how to handle chimerae – but there were provisions for foreigners who turned traitor on their native country and requested asylum inside Xerxes' borders, and since Roy was a human chimera, he deserved the rights of a human. Right?
Edward swallowed and tightened his hands around the book; he could trade his cooperation for Roy's safety, if necessary. Still, information about Amestris would always be welcome, like what means they used to control the dragon-chimerae. After all, if they were criminals or traitors, no way the Amestrisans would trust them to follow orders. They had to have something. If they could figure out a way to negate that control, maybe they could turn the chimera-dragons back on Amestris.
Decided, Edward nodded once to himself, grabbed a blank journal and a pen off the desk the room had come with, and made his way downstairs and outside, calling ahead an uncertain, "Roy?" as he blinking into the orange glow of the setting sun, so different from the gentle glow of the alchemic lights inside the tower.
For a moment, he thought the setting sun had coloured the pool red, but then he realised the red was beyond the pool, and littered with scales. "Roy!" he shouted, dropping his pen and journal and rushing across the open space toward where Roy was trying to hide a gash in his side behind one bloodied claw. "Move your claw!" he ordered as he reached the edge of the blood-stained sand, already pressing his hands together and activating a healing array.
Roy, though, reached out with his other foreclaw to stop him. "It's not what you think," he rumbled, something that might have been guilt in his voice.
"I do not care what it is, you moron!" Edward snapped back, trying to get past the claw in his way with no luck. "Just let me heal you already!"
"Healing alchemy?" Roy said, gone still with surprise.
Edward took the chance to dodge the claw in his face and walked right up to the angry gash in Roy's side. He was just about to touch the scales around the wound – and hope he could actually heal a chimera-dragon, fuck – when the dying sun caught on a bit of metal inside the wound and nearly blinded him. "The fuck?" he murmured in Xerxesian, letting the healing alchemy go for the moment and reaching for the metal, because he was pretty damn certain that didn't belong inside anyone, chimera or natural.
It was definitely metal, and the gentle tug didn't shift it an inch, but Roy did hiss, and Edward immediately snatched his hand away, horrified.
"The alchemists," Roy explained before Edward could find the words to ask, "shoved metal plates inside each of us, to keep us from taking human form. If I try, it'll kill me."
"But that is barbaric!" Edward insisted, looking up at the dark eyes watching him. And then he finally processed the rest of what Roy had said. "Wait, you can take on a human form?"
"Supposedly," Roy agreed tightly, before pointing at his wound with his bloodied claw. "I don't have a good angle to see it. Can you...help?"
Edward stared up in the dark eyes, read the pain and desperation in them, and swallowed his own revulsion at the thought of digging around inside someone's body. "I will do my best," he offered.
Roy nodded, then motioned Edward forward again, offering, "I don't know how bit it is, only the general area, because I saw them inserting them in Riza and Maes."
"Riza and Maes?" Edward repeated, mostly to keep Roy talking while he gently tried to figure out the dimensions of the metal. His hands were already slick with blood, which wasn't helping, and a part of him was trying very hard not to calculate how much blood Roy should have, given his size, and compare it against the stained sand.
"My best friends," Roy offered, so much pain in his voice, it can't all have been from the gash in his side. "We were all dragged in together."
Edward let that information gather in the back of his head for a moment while he focussed on the metal, which was quite a bit wider than he'd expected, and curved slightly, like it had shaped itself to fit inside Roy's body. It seemed to have been placed between the dermis and hypodermis, and from what Edward could see of it, would likely do a lot of damage in the process of removing it. Assuming he could get Roy into a position where he could just slide it out.
"I'm going to try something," he warned, then pressed his hands together. The metal looked to be steel, which he knew was rather popular in Amestris – between their love of weaponry and a booming metal prosthetics industry – though unusual in Xerxes. Still, he wouldn't be much of an alchemist if he couldn't recognise a particular metal after a few minutes of observing it, even if most of it was hidden inside someone; he was almost positive he could break it down into tiny pieces that would just fall out, with a little help.
Roy huffed out a small cloud of smoke, then said, "Do it."
Edward nodded, then lightly pressed his fingers against the edge of the metal.
Alchemic energy sparked around them, and Roy let out a discomfited sound, but didn't move. Which was good, because Edward couldn't promise he'd have been able to keep contact with the metal if the other had jerked away, which would have ended this attempt before it went anywhere.
The metal was terrifyingly large, judging by the length of time it took for the transmutation to stop sparking energy, and Edward sent up a mental prayer to Airyaman, the Xerxesian god associated with healing, because he might not really believe in his people's deities, but fuck knew Roy needed all the help he could get, and better safe than sorry.
When he pulled his hands away, a wave of small metal scraps fell out of Roy's body, most of it dropping to the ground, but Edward did have to brush a few bits out of the wound before he could clap his hands together again and finally heal the gaping wound. The skin healed up fine, but there was a large bare patch of scales, and Edward had a sinking suspicion those would have to grow back in on their own. But at least Roy wasn't bleeding any more, which was what really mattered.
"Thank fuck," he murmured, before the world tilted a bit.
"Ed!" Roy called, and a claw was suddenly cradling him. "What's wrong?"
Edward shook his head, scowling at the way the world wobbled warningly. "Nothing," he insisted, right before his stomach made an angry noise. He sighed and slumped back into Roy's claw. "I might be hungry." Or, you know, it could have been a full day since the last time he'd eaten anything, because food hadn't been a priority in a while. Not that he intended to say that part aloud.
"Aim for something easier than you usually try," Roy suggested, his tone rather dry, even as he picked Edward up and started across the oasis.
"Put me down!" Edward ordered, wrapping his arms around the nearest finger and holding on for dear life.
The rumbling laugh Roy let out warmed Edward in a way he didn't really have a word for, and then he was being gently sat down just inside the widened doorway. "Go on."
Edward frowned at him. "You are staying here?" he asked, because if Roy could change into a human form, there was plenty of room for him inside the tower, and then Edward could quiz him while he ate.
"I'm stuck outside for the moment," Roy admitted, before tapping one bloodied claw against his undamaged side.
"There is more than one?!" Edward said, couldn't quite bring himself to care as his voice jumped an octave.
Roy didn't need to respond, the tired droop to his head said it all.
Edward turned and stalked up to the kitchen, snarling disparaging remarks about Amestrisan alchemists in Drachman –always the best language for insulting alchemists – and only leaning against the wall a little bit.
He cleaned his hands with a bit of alchemy, letting the broken-down blood components fall into one of the pots he'd charcoaled food in and so was beyond most non-alchemy means of cleaning, then made himself two sandwiches, since that had become his easy fall-back. He pretty much inhaled one of them before he had everything put away again, and was about halfway through the second one by the time he made the stairs, finishing it about the same time as he reached the ground floor.
Where he found Roy pulling out scales on his undamaged side.
"Stop that!" he ordered, aghast, because no way that didn't hurt.
"You can't cut through them," Roy replied flatly, even as he pulled out another one.
Edward hurried forward and grabbed Roy's foreclaw, tugging on it to try and keep him from pulling out more scales, because it hurt to watch. "There must be another way to do this! Please, Roy!"
Roy's claw froze for a moment, then twisted and wrapped around Edward's waist, picking him up again – Edward sincerely hoped this wasn't the start of a trend – and holding him up high enough that they could see eye-to-eye without one of them needing to crane their neck. Edward did his best to look pleading, rather than irritated, while Roy stared at him in silence for a long moment, the alchemical lights too dim to really let Edward get a read on the emotions in the dark eyes.
At last, Roy quietly explained, "The only way past my scales is to remove them. Trust me, I know. And we can't get that metal out without getting past them. Which means they need to come out."
Edward had to look away, hating the calm certainly in those words. "I do not like seeing people I care for hurting," he complained.
The claw around Edward spasmed, and he grabbed at a finger, half afraid Roy would lose his grip.
But he didn't. Instead, the claw tightened back up again, holding Edward securely, and the end of Roy's snout bumped against his shoulder. "I care for you, too," Roy offered, a heavy sort of meaning to the words that Edward couldn't quite grasp.
Then Roy was lowering him back down to the ground, saying, "I won't have to remove as many, with you here, if that makes you feel any better?"
"Some," Edward allowed, but he still had to look away as Roy went back to picking off a line of scales.
Eventually, Roy said, "Ed," and he turned back around, wincing at the line of skin where scales used to be.
"I do not have a knife," he pointed out.
Roy wiggled one claw at him, deadly-sharp nails clicking as they struck against each other. "I do."
Edward grimaced at that, but didn't try to stop him as Roy made a long, neat cut in his side, more than deep enough to reach where the metal should be. Blood poured out of the wound, and Edward had to swallow back bile as he pushed his hands into the cut, trying to find the edge of the metal plate.
It wasn't hard – Roy's aim had been excellent – and Edward quickly pressed his hands together and touched the metal again, sparking alchemic energy and shading Roy's blood purple.
As soon as all the metal was out, Edward pressed his hands together again, then healed the wound, breathing out a sigh of relief when the skin healed without a mark.
"Done," he called as he stepped back, looking up at Roy.
Roy nodded, then closed his eyes. Nothing happened for a moment, then the little hairs on Edward's arms stood up straight and the scent of ozone filled the air. Purple alchemic light sparked, lighting Roy up and sparking against Edward's skin even as he stumbled back, heart in his throat; he knew that that colour reaction meant.
The light flashed once, too bright to look at, then died away. Roy-the-dragon had vanished, leaving behind a naked human in his place. Said human looked far too thin, and his skin was far too pale to be healthy, by Edward's figuring, while shaggy black hair topped his head.
Edward took an uncertain step forward, calling, "Roy?"
The human let out a weak groan and attempted to push against the ground with one hand, to no apparent effect. "Ed?" an unfamiliar voice said.
Edward knelt next to the human and gently touched their shoulder. "I'm right here," he offered quietly.
The human's head twisted, and Edward found himself meeting familiar black eyes through the ragged hair. "So tired," Roy said, before those dark eyes closed.
"I've got you," Edward promised, and Roy's breathing almost immediately evened out into a sleeping rhythm.
Edward sat back on his heels and rubbed at his face, only to grimace when he remembered the blood his hands were covered in. He needed to clean himself up again, and get Roy upstairs to the bed, but he was having trouble forgetting the change he'd just witnessed.
Such a drastic change in mass broke pretty much every rule of alchemy Edward knew, but that was hardly the most concerning part: Purple light heralded human transmutation, and human transmutation always involved the empty place that was written of in the royal families' alchemical journals. It was there that you were supposed to be able to trade parts of yourself for impossible boons, but it wasn't up to the alchemist what would be traded, and an alchemist that wasn't strong enough for what they wanted, wouldn't survive the transaction. Which was pretty much the entire reason human transmutation was forbidden, because it cost too much.
He'd just seen human transmutation when Roy changed forms, but the only thing Roy seemed to have lost, was his health. Which, well, that was certainly a bit of a wretched thing, but Edward had been led to believe that whatever was traded was permanently beyond the alchemist's reach.
Something wasn't adding up.
He sighed, started to rub at his face again, then huffed when he recognised the red red staining his hand before he could actually connect with his face. "Well, I'll learn nothing while Roy's sleeping," he told himself dryly, before standing up to go in search of some unbloodied sand he could use to help scrape the blood off his hands.
Once his hands were clean, he picked up Roy – who was as worryingly light as he'd looked – and started the long trek up the stairs to his bedroom. There, he found some pants for the man – they were loose on him, of course – then tucked Roy into the unnecessarily large bed. And, because it was unnecessarily large and he felt pretty tired himself, Edward shucked off his bloodied trousers, climbed in on the other side and closed his eyes to sleep.
Edward woke feeling over-warm, and with a sense of something much heavier than his light sheets draped over his waist. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at a thin face, and jerked back startled.
He didn't get very far, however, as the weight on his waist turned out to be Roy's arm, his hand fisted tightly in the back of Edward's pants.
Bemused, Edward attempted to loosen Roy's grip without hurting him. But, despite his emaciated appearance, there was apparently plenty of strength in his grip, because Roy's hand only tightened.
And then, without warning, something snaked its way under Edward and he was pulled flush against Roy, who mumbled something that sounded like the Amestrisan "Mine."
Edward's face felt far too hot, while a different sort of warmth settled low in his belly and his penis – which never seemed to give him the trouble that his male friends in the guard had always said theirs had when they were his age, even around the most attractive members of court – twitched in an unfamiliar way.
He swallowed, confused by the new sensations. None of it was...unpleasant, necessarily, and it did match some of the gratuitous descriptions of sexual arousal that Jean had supplied when Edward foolishly admitted, at one point, that he didn't know what that was. Which, okay, nice to know that part of him wasn't completely broken, but why now? Roy was male, and a chimera, to boot. Not to mention, as emaciated as he was, there wasn't anything attract–
Okay, no, that was a lie. There was something about Roy's eyes that had caught Edward's attention, even when he was a dragon. And he could fill in the blanks a bit, in his head, as to how Roy should look, if he were healthy, and he could certainly be handsome. Fuck, his dragon form was certainly handsome, in its way.
But, still. Roy was male, same as Edward, and that was–
Edward sighed and let his forehead rest against Roy's, his eyes falling closed.
It was a mess, was what it was. He was the Crown Prince of Xerxes, and that meant he needed to make a good match with a woman, so she could bear him children to continue the royal line. That was his duty. He couldn't be like Jean, cornering that courier he was so enamoured of, Kain, in dark corners in the hallways. And while there were certainly some nobles with lovers of their own gender, for a member of the royal family to do so would be...frowned upon, at the least, and potentially disastrous if whatever foreign princess he ended up marrying took offence.
"Ed?" Roy murmured, his voice low and rough in a way that absolutely didn't help the warmth in his belly.
Edward opened his eyes and found himself staring into those familiar dark eyes. He swallowed, then quietly requested, "Please let me go."
Roy's eyes widened and he immediately released Edward.
Edward rolled out of the bed, trying not to shiver as Roy's fingers brushed along his abdomen. "I will collect food, and then I have some questions for you, if you are willing," he said as he stood and moved to collect fresh pants and trousers. He didn't really know what to do about the warmth lingering in his belly, or the way his penis had swelled enough to be an annoyance, so he determined to just ignore it until it went away.
"Okay," Roy agreed, sounding a little uncertain.
Edward grabbed the empty water pitcher on his way out of the room, then made his way down to the ground floor. He stopped in the entrance, though, blinking at the battlefield the rising sun had revealed. "Well," he muttered, stepping out onto the bloodstained sand, "this is fantastic."
He'd have to figure out how to clean it all up before he had visitors again, but that could wait a bit. For that moment, however, he relieved himself, then refilled the pitcher in the pool of water – which, miraculously, seemed to have been spared any blood, though his little pool for washing hadn't been near so lucky – and returned to the tower to find them something to eat. He didn't bother attempting any cooking, instead going for simple bread and some of his limited store of butter, because he honestly wasn't sure he had the patience for burning food.
Roy was sleeping again when Edward got back up to the bedroom, but he startled awake when Edward set the pitcher down a little harder than he'd honestly intended, something that looked rather like terror in his eyes for a brief moment. And then his eyes landed on Edward and he relaxed, smiling. "Good morning," he offered, his voice warm.
Edward swallowed, silently ordered his body to behave itself, and walked around the bed so he could climb onto it; there wasn't really anywhere else to sit. "Eat something; you look like you are wasting away," he ordered, even as he snatched up his own slice of bread.
"I do," Roy agreed, confusion colouring his voice, while he held up a hand and frowned at it. "I can't imagine why, though. I was fine as a dragon, but now I'm–" his mouth twisted with disgust "–pathetic. Weak."
"Your grip is still plenty strong, I promise," Edward offered drily as he looked around for writing materials. He knew he'd brought some up to the bedroom early on, but he couldn't remember where he'd stashed them.
Roy let out a cough, and Edward glanced over to find him looking a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's a dragon thing, I think."
"A dragon thing," Edward repeated, unimpressed.
Roy shifted and finally took a slice of toast. "You're my treasure, so I have to keep you close. Safe."
Edward's face felt way too hot all of a sudden, and he quickly jumped off the bed and turned away, ostensibly to look for his writing things, but really just because he couldn't look at Roy after that. "I am not a treasure!" he insisted, wincing a little at how high-pitched his voice had just gone. Fuck, what even was it about Roy that he was always causing Edward's voice to do weird shit?
There was a well of humour in Roy's voice when he said, "Well, your eyes and hair are the closest thing to gold around here, and you're as stunning as any diamond."
Warmth thrummed through him, and Edward couldn't tell if he was actually embarrassed any more, or if this was something else entirely. So he snapped, "I need parchment!" then hurried from the bedroom.
He retreated to the library, since he did need writing supplies, and slumped into the chair in there, dropping his head to hide his face in his hands and wishing they were cooler, because it was going to take his face forever to cool off.
For fuck's sake! It was hardly the first time he'd been complimented, and Edward had been long practised at brushing those off with a polite smile and a quick 'thank you'. Such compliments were to be expected, after all, as he was crown prince. Hell, some of them even seemed to mean it, rather than be saying it in hopes it would win them favour. (Not that it ever would have; Edward had been taught from a young age to never let kind words sway his decisions, because everyone wanted something, and the smart ones knew that you caught more flies with honey.)
But, then, Roy didn't know who Edward was. All he knew, was that Edward had been trapped in a tower in the middle of the desert by his father, because they had a difference of opinion about his future. He could be hoping that Edward would finally bow to his father's wishes and Roy could get something out of it, certainly, but...
He remembered Roy's arms around him, again, how warm they'd been. Safe, almost.
Comfortable, despite the improbable way Edward's body had reacted to the nearness.
That...hadn't seemed like an attempt to sway his opinion. Nor had Roy chasing after the merchant and guards, that had been fairly obviously for his own amusement. Territorial, Edward had thought of it at the time.
'You're my treasure,' Roy had said. And, last night, 'I care for you, too.'
Edward swallowed and rubbed at his face, his stomach churning, because Roy didn't know a damn thing about him. He cared about unloved little 'Ed', didn't have any idea that he was actually dealing with Edward Hohenheim, Crown Prince of Xerxes. He didn't know that he'd just told someone's whose duty it was to destroy chimerae, that he was one, that Amestris was purposefully creating more. He'd bared his very soul to Edward, and got nothing in return.
That wasn't equivalent.
Taking a deep breath, Edward forced himself to stand, to face this as was befitting of his station. He grabbed a couple loose pieces of parchment and a pen, then returned to the bedroom.
Roy was working on what looked to be his second piece of bread, but he immediately turned away from it when Edward stopped at the top of the stairs. "Are you okay?" Roy asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "I'm sorry if what I said–"
"Bothered me?" Edward finished, forcing his familiar court smile into place and relaxing back against the tower wall, as far from the bed as he could possibly get in the room. "Of course not. As I said, I needed to get writing materials." He held up the parchment and pen pointedly.
Roy blinked, his expression taking on a slightly confused cast. "Ed–?"
"Edward," he corrected, forced his voice to remain steady. Smooth. "I realised I never introduced myself to you properly: My name is Edward Hohenheim."
Roy's eyes went wide, and Ed could almost imagine the way his skin would pale, were it already not so white. "You're the heir to the Xerxesian throne," he said, something Edward couldn't quite define in his voice.
"Yes," Edward replied with a shrug, before turning his attention down at his parchment and pen. "As I told you, we have laws against chimerae, and there is a chance you will be found out, no matter how quiet you try to keep. I should be able to protect you, but–"
"What is this?" Roy demanded, an edge of authority in his voice that Edward hadn't been expecting, and he looked up in surprise, found his gaze caught by glaring black eyes. "Protect me? How do you intend to do that while you're stuck out here?"
Edward forced his shrug to be casual. "My father is correct; it is time I stop attempting to run away from my duties. When he comes in a couple weeks, I will return to the palace with him." He forced himself to look away from where Roy had shrunk back against the bed, instead focussing on his writing things again. "Any information you can give me about how the Amestrisan alchemists have been keeping you and any other chimerae will help me to convince Father you are safe to be let free."
"Really," Roy said, his tone gone flat in a way that made it hard for Edward to breathe. "You think my turning traitor on my own country will protect me from your laws."
"No, but it will help me to convince my father you do not need an eye on you. You will be free to go where you please."
Roy scoffed. "Of course. Betray my country and I can fly away free, no guilt on my conscious."
Edward shrugged. "Your conscious is not my concern," he lied. "I can only give you your life and freedom."
"At what cost?!" Roy shouted, that edge of authority in his voice again.
Edward struggled for a moment at keeping his smile in place, then looked up, daren't attempt another casual shrug as he said, "My own," in as careless a manner as he could manage.
As Roy's eyes went wide, Edward had to look back down at the parchment. "Your scales cannot be cut through, you said last night," he said, putting pen to parchment and making that note. "And I know you can breathe fire, because you sometimes let a little out–"
"Ed," Roy called.
"I can understand if you do not wish to tell me of weaknesses," Edward said, ignoring Roy as best he was able, "but numbers would be helpful, or how they are controlling–"
There was a crash from the bed, then Roy let out a cry that sounded pained, and Edward's head jerked up, his eyes going wide to find the water pitcher – which had been on a table next to Roy's side of the bed – spilt all over the floor, and Roy sprawled in the middle of the puddle.
"Roy!" Edward shouted, forgetting all about keeping his distance and hurrying over to the other man. "What are you thinking, getting out of the bed?" he snapped as he crouched down next to Roy.
With no warning, Roy lunged at him, and since Edward was hardly balanced against such an attack, he toppled backward, dropping the parchment and pen in favour of reaching up to try and catch himself, only to lose his purchase on the wet floor and wrench his arm. His head hit the floor with a thud he felt through his whole body, and he winced, barely managing to bite back a reflexive noise of pain.
Roy muffled his own groan of discomfort into Edward's abdomen, having landed on him. "Poor planning," he mumbled, right before arms snaked behind Edward's back, and he was once again held fast in Roy's arms.
"What are you doing?" Edward asked tiredly, his head aching too much to make the effort at playing prince.
Roy was silent for a moment, until Edward reached down and poked him with the arm that didn't ache to move, whereupon he lifted his head from Edward's abdomen and said, "I told you: It's a dragon thing."
Right, keeping his 'treasure' safe, or whatever.
"I was a soldier," Roy said, before Edward could dredge up a sufficiently scathing comment about the 'treasure' bit, "a State Alchemist, in the Amestris military."
Edward couldn't keep from tensing, because he'd also heard, from those Ishvalans refugees, about how devastating those heartless alchemists who had sold their abilities to the military had been.
"I wanted to protect my country, all the people who couldn't protect themselves," Roy continued, his voice going bitter as he added, "I was a fool. Bradley doesn't care about the people, only about making Amestris the 'greatest country'. And if he has to crush his own people under his boot to do so, so be it.
"So we made plans to overthrow him. Helped each other up the ranks, Maes and me, and Riza watched our backs. But we trusted the wrong person, got betrayed, and were branded traitors. And now I'm...this. Alone. Maes and Riza are trapped back in Amestris, and I want to free them, but I can't; they'll kill me before I can get close enough to even scorch the building.
"All I have, right now, is you. And if you– If Xerxes is going to war with Amestris, if I'm with you, maybe then–"
Edward leant up on his sore arm and covered Roy's mouth with his other hand, meeting the desperate black eyes watching him. "If Father and his ministers find out the Amestris military is creating chimerae, make no mistake, they will declare war," he said grimly. "But we don't have the means to send an army across the desert without losses, and I will not be able to protect your friends like I can you." Roy's eyes squeezed shut, grief shadowing his face.
Edward swallowed and offered, "If we wait for Amestris to send your friends to attack Xerxes, not let any of my people know you 'dragons' are actually chimerae, there is a better chance, but I cannot make promises." He looked away, couldn't bring himself to look at Roy's hopeful gaze as he admitted, "For the sake of my people, I am not certain I can stomach inviting our enemies through the front gates to maybe save two foreigners."
Roy let out a laugh that sounded like he'd lost what little hope he'd had. "They would never forgive me if I agreed to a path that risked innocent lives," he admitted quietly.
Edward squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of some other way. Some chance to save Roy's friends, without needlessly risking Xerxesian lives.
'They'll kill me before I can get close enough to even scorch the building.'
Edward's eyes snapped opened and he turned to look at where Roy had pressed his face against his abdomen again. "Your dragon form cannot get close enough to scorch the building," he said.
Roy's head flopped over to one side and he frowned up at Edward. "Dragon or human, they'll recognise me either way," he corrected. "And, as soon as they do, they'll hit me with enough charge to knock me out."
Edward frowned, not quite following that bit. "What is this 'charge'?"
Roy blinked at him once. "An electrical charge?" he said, sounding uncertain.
Edward shook his head. "As to power those wired lights you use?" he assumed; the Amestrisan ambassador had insisted he needed those lighting their embassy, but there hadn't been any electrical source to power it with, because Xerxesians used alchemy or heat to run things in their city, neither of which translated well through the ambassador's cords and their odd little connectors.
"Yes," Roy agreed, a hint of amusement in his eyes for a moment, before he frowned and explained, "There's something they inserted in us, like those metal plates, that is a sort of...receiver for that energy sent through the air." He removed one arm from around Edward just long enough to tap his too-obvious spine, between his shoulder blades, then returned his arm to its original position as he explained, "Right about there. They'd turn it on if one of us was being 'difficult'."
Edward had to clench his jaw against the need to curse the alchemists involved to an eternity of suffering in whatever version of the afterlife they believed in. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Roy's eyes, only to get distracted by how soft it felt. When he ran his fingers through Roy's hair properly, his eyes slid shut and his expression eased away into something a bit more peaceful, which soothed Edward's ire, a little bit, because it was proof that Roy was okay.
Well, okay so long as he didn't get spotted by those alchemists and they turned on their 'charge'. And Roy's friends were still in there, suffering whatever cruelties those criminals had in store.
But, there was one person those alchemists couldn't hit with their electric charge, and would never think to be on guard against: "They will not recognise me."
Roy went utterly stiff against him. "No," he said, that edge of authority in his voice again.
"Yes," Edward returned, easily matching Roy's level of authority.
Roy's eyes, when he looked up at Edward, were wild with desperation. "Ed, no. You don't know what they're capable of! If you go in there alone–"
"They will underestimate me, just as you," Edward returned flatly. When Roy opened his mouth again, eyebrows drawn tightly together, he slapped a hand over his mouth, then said, as firmly as he could, "My family has been known for producing the strongest alchemists in Xerxes for over five generations. I have been studying alchemy practically from the cradle, and swordcraft and hand-to-hand since I was old enough to hold a sword; I can handle a pile of chimera alchemists." And then he smiled and added, "I need only destroy the origin of their electric charge, and then you can do much more than scorch their building." He pulled his hand away from Roy's mouth.
Roy still looked unhappy, but he took a moment to stare at Edward, rather than immediately trying to tell him 'no' again. It wasn't hard for Edward to look confident in his abilities – it was, after all, the truth – and Roy eventually deflated, dropping his forehead against Edward's abdomen. "I don't like it," he muttered.
Edward combed his fingers through Roy's hair again, since it had seemed to calm him last time. "You do not have to like it," he pointed out. "But, if you wish to save your friends, this is your best choice."
And, Edward realised with a small start, it meant he wouldn't have to go back with his father. He could just escape while they were in Amestris, well beyond Van's reach, unless he wanted to endanger Edward by requesting Amestris extradite him.
He could free Roy's friends and himself all at once.
"Ed?" Roy called. "What is it?"
Edward shook his head, uncertain if he could trust his jailer with his plans to escape. "Nothing. Anything you can tell me of this laboratory will help."
Roy's eyes darkened with determination. "I'll tell you everything I remember," he promised, a hint of a growl appearing in his voice as he added, "But we won't be going anywhere until I'm stronger, am I clear?"
Inexplicably, warmth pooled low in Edward's belly again at that, which only seemed to get worse when he remembered how impossible it would be for Roy to miss it if his penis started misbehaving again. He managed a nod, and his voice only threatened to crack as he hurriedly said, "Back in bed then. Rest will help."
Roy's eyes narrowed, suspicious for a moment, before suddenly going wide, and Edward's face felt far too warm, because he suspected he knew exactly what Roy had just noticed.
But Roy didn't say anything, just let go and started to push himself back a bit, his arms shaking.
Something like loss dragged at Edward's heart, but he pushed it aside as he moved to help Roy back into the bed. The bread had been upset by Roy's attempt to get off the bed, but Edward picked up the one that hadn't ended up butter-side down and held it out to Roy. "Eat that," he ordered.
Roy's smile was a little strained, but he took the bread and had a bite, all the same, while Edward picked up the last piece and sighed about it a bit, then bit into it, because he was still hungry, honestly. "Can you follow a recipe?" Roy asked around another bite of his bread.
Edward frowned down at him and swallowed his mouthful before asking, "Recipe? Like a chemistry formula?"
Roy blinked, then let out a laugh that sounded slightly helpless. "Of course you're a chemist," he said.
Edward huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, only just remembering the bread before he smeared butter all over himself. "I am an alchemist. I do not know how you do this in Amestris, but, in Xerxes, alchemy and chemistry are learnt together."
Roy shook his head. "They're related, but most alchemists don't bother learning any chemistry, and plenty of chemists are incapable of doing any alchemy, which is how they get into chemistry."
Edward hummed at that, because he could see the sense in non-alchemists learning chemistry when they couldn't do alchemy, but he was having a hard time wrapping his head around alchemists who didn't at least learn the basics of chemistry; it made alchemy so much easier if you knew the chemical components of various materials, and what sort of reaction those components would have with other chemicals, or how heat or cold would affect them.
"Yes, like a formula," Roy said, going back to his original enquiry, "but for making food."
Edward blinked at him, vaguely surprised. It made sense that there would be formulae for making food, but he'd never really thought to go looking for any, not that his father would have been likely to leave any in the tower; his intention had not been to give Edward a pleasant holiday retreat. "I...should be able to manage that," he agreed. "But you will have to tell me how long to leave the flame on it, too, and–"
Roy burst out laughing, covering his face with one slightly shaking hand. "Please," he said from behind his hand, "tell me you're not using a Bunsen burner to cook."
"What is a 'Bunsen burner'?"
Roy peeked out at him, his dark eyes bright with amusement. "What you use to produce a flame to heat your experiments in a chemistry lab."
Edward blinked at that, thinking of the series of heating arrays he'd been taught for that, because an open flame was always a danger, especially in a chemical lab. They did have a handheld fire creator, which could be used to sterilise equipment when it was needed to be used with two different chemicals that didn't agree, or when you needed a more localised application of heat than the heating arrays could manage, and he assumed that was closer to what Roy meant. He shook his head and offered, "No, I would not bring that from the laboratory. But it is similar, in that there is a flame for heating." He frowned a bit. "It is odd. The flames have different settings, but I do not see the point of that."
Roy started laughing again.
Edward scowled and took another angry bite of his bread; it wasn't his fault he didn't know anything about working in a kitchen!
Roy finally uncovered his face and tried to give Edward an apologetic look, but his smile ruined it. "I'm sorry, Ed," he said, which at least sounded honest. "You don't use different levels of heat in chemistry?"
Edward stilled, shocked, and then embarrassed. "Oh," he managed a bit helplessly. That...hadn't occurred to him. He wasn't used to working with fire, okay?
Roy coughed. "If you have paper and a pen, I can tell you how to make stew; you're unlikely to turn that into charcoal."
"Be silent," Edward ordered as he looked around for the writing things he'd brought up. They'd fallen in the water on the floor, of course, and he shoved the last of his bread in his mouth, then clapped his hands together for an array to dry parchment. It sparked as he picked it up, almost immediately dry. He'd lost the notes he'd written on it earlier, but he wasn't certain he cared so much about those, honestly.
"That must be handy," Roy commented, his voice almost careful.
Edward eyed him as he stood after picking up the pen. "Sometimes," he agreed flatly, then sat on the edge of the bed, at Roy's feet, and bent forward to write against his legs. "What is your recipe?"
Roy gave him the recipe, then held out the empty plate the bread had been on when Edward stood.
Edward snorted, but took it with a dry, "Sleep. I will attempt this stew."
Roy gave him a slightly teasing smile. "Stay up here if I hear you shouting in foreign languages or throwing things?" he assumed.
Edward scowled, but admitted, "A not unwise course," then left the bedroom to try his hand at cooking with a recipe.
Dragon's Flight
Dragon's Tongue
Dragon's Quake
.