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batsutousaiTitle: Colours in Your Eyes
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Lan Fan/Ling Yao, Paninya/Winry Rockbell, Gracia Hughes/Maes Hughes
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, soulmate AU, Xing politics, mentions of homophobia, cultural differences, canon character death (you know which one), age gaps, why are these boys such idiots?
Summary: Everyone is born with the ability to only see the colour of their soulmate's eyes. Only upon touching their soulmate, can people see the rest of the world's colours.
Edward Elric will do whatever it takes to get his brother's body back and ensure he can have his happily ever after with his soulmate, even if it means never finding his own soulmate.
A/N: So, sorry in advance, a bit, but there is...very little Roy this chapter. Feel free to start whining now. XP
"I wish you could properly appreciate this, Brother," Al said, staring out at the expanse of blue sky and blue sea stretching ahead of their ship.
Ed sighed and shrugged, was still a little shocked that he'd managed to keep his own colour vision from his brother after a whole year of practically living in each other's pockets, while Al regained a healthy weight and Ed had to get used to having two real arms again. And also learnt to keep weapons on himself, since he couldn't transmute them any more. (He'd learnt more than that when it came to not being able to use alchemy, but there were some memories of his struggles to adapt to its lack that he'd much rather forget.)
Granny had figured him out pretty much right off, but she'd allowed herself to be put off with a flat, "I don't wanna talk about it."
Winry'd taken a couple months, but she'd caught on in the end, and she'd kept on until he'd snapped, "He wants nothing to do with me, okay!" and hadn't brought it up again.
But Al'd had no idea, and Ed didn't know how much that had to do with Al's own adventures in discovering all the senses he hadn't had previously, blinding him to Ed rediscovering one of his own senses, and how much was Ed just being super sneaky around his brother.
Because Al wouldn't be put off by Ed not wanting to talk, or claiming that his nameless soulmate wanted nothing to do with him. He'd keep prying until he had the whole truth, and then he'd be angry with Ed for putting his soulmate problems before his own.
That said, Al would probably also be the person most likely to understand why Ed'd decided he needed to grow up a little bit more, and give both himself and Mustang space to acclimate to their new disabilities, before even thinking about trying to figure out where they stood with each other.
Not that Mustang's blindness had kept, from what Fuery had said when he'd turned up to deliver the promised retirement papers, which had taken a while to unbury. (Understandable, given the ruins Command had been in after the Dwarf in the Flask's attack had evaporated a huge chunk, not to mention all of the additional damage they'd caused in wearing down his Stone.) Apparently, Dr Marcoh'd had a Philosopher's Stone, and while Mustang had insisted it be used to heal Havoc's spine injury, first, he'd also got his sight back. So he could see his colours and once again aim for the Führership, just like he'd always planned.
Ed tried to pretend he wasn't hurt that Mustang hadn't even tried to stop past his and Al's room when he'd been released – it was never hard to get a report on the bastard's movements, as many of the nurses had a crush on him – but it did hurt, a little. Even if he got it; Mustang having his sight back didn't change how much of a landmine Ed was for him. And, after so long, it was probably laughably easy for him to pretend Ed wasn't a factor, and never would be again, now he'd resigned from the military.
Ed sighed and finally gave up on trying to reread one of the Xingan language books Ling had sent back across the desert for them, with the tickets for the ship they were currently on. Ed had been suspicious when he'd first opened the package, because Ling being nice always put him on guard, but Ling had included a letter saying he was paying Ed back for all the room service bills. (Also, May was doing a lot of moping, and he was hoping Al could cheer her up. Ed understood that, had actually caught Al doing some moping of his own, and endured plenty of 'did you know' facts about May, most of which he'd apparently picked up while Ed had been recovering from being impaled.)
"How much longer, do you think?" Al asked, clearly noticing that Ed had given up on his reading.
Ed shrugged. "Ask a member of the crew."
Al made a face, because most of the crew spoke either Aerugonian or some other language from the countries bordering the sea they were sailing on. A couple of them spoke varying degrees of broken Xingan, and most of them knew some basic words, like 'yes' and 'no', but no one spoke even broken Amestrisan; long discussions with others on the ship weren't fun for any of them. (That said, Ed was starting to pick up a bit of Aerugonian and the second most common language among the crew, which they called Gracen, or something. Not enough to hold a useful conversation, but it was becoming pretty clear that language acquisition was one of those things he was just good at. Now he didn't have his Gate and couldn't use alchemy, the things he was good at had seriously decreased, and it was a relief whenever he found a new one, especially a new one that could prove useful at some point down the road.)
Al sighed and flopped down into the chair next to Ed's. "I can't wait to see her."
"I know."
Al slumped a bit, his expression turning glum. "What are we going to do? We're just alchemists from Amestris, not princes or anything, and we don't even have any real ties to the government; how can I ever stand up against whatever prospects May's clan already has for her?"
Ed barely resisted a sigh, because they'd gone over this at least once a week since he'd told his brother about Xing's customs in regards to soulmates, shortly after they'd returned to Resembool. "First," he offered flatly, "we're going to figure out what the age of marriageability is in Xing, and how long we have left. Then, you're going to work with Ling and May and find a way to make yourself more desirable than the competition. And if we have to send post back to Führer Grumman asking to buy a favour of some sort, we'll do that."
"I know," Al replied, his expression nothing less than heart-breaking. "But, what if–"
"If you start listing 'what if's, I'll throw you overboard," Ed interrupted, pinning his brother with a flat look, because they'd gone through this part enough times, too, that Ed knew he needed to stop it before Al got started, or he'd worry himself into an actual illness.
"You wouldn't dare," Al shot back, perking up slightly.
Ed snorted and shoved himself up out of his chair. "Spar with me?"
Al looked a bit uncertain for a long moment, but Ed just crossed his arms over his chest and waited him out, because his idiotic little brother had never been able to refuse the opportunity to remind Ed that he could kick his arse any day.
"Yeah," Al agreed at last, as he shoved himself out of his own chair, "let's do it."
Ed lost, as he'd expected, but at least Al'd stopped worrying for the moment, which had been the whole point, so he counted it as a win anyway.
They reached the Xingan port town three days later, and while Ling and May weren't there to welcome them – Ed honestly would have been surprised if they had come, given their positions in the Imperial Court – there was a familiar face waiting at the end of the dock for them, sans her familiar mask: "Lan Fan?" Ed called upon recognising her, surprised.
Lan Fan gave a small bow. "I'm to lead you both to the Imperial City," she said flatly.
"If you're here, who's babysitting Ling?" Ed had to ask.
Lan Fan glanced toward Al, a brief suggestion of humour darting through her dark eyes. "Her Imperial Highness, Princess May, seems to be of the impression that, should something happen to His Imperial Majesty while I'm away, I might accidentally 'lose' her soulmate in my rush to return to the palace."
Al scoffed, clearly unimpressed by the implied threat, but Ed couldn't quite stop a snicker at what he imagined had been an excellent aghast expression on May's part at the audacity.
Lan Fan's mouth twitched as she turned away. "This way."
It took them another three days to make it to the capital on horseback, and Ed was actually kind of looking forward to just settling down and staying in one place for a while. (That year off, after the Promised Day, had completely ruined him.)
On the way, Lan Fan had politely given them a few warnings, including that it was taboo to refer to Ling by his name, and what to expect upon their arrival at the Imperial Court, so neither of them were particularly thrown by the welcoming party that came to meet them in ridiculously extravagant robes and gowns sparkling with bits of gold and gems, or the unnecessary amount of bowing and stupidly polite language.
Ling promised them a few hours to get settled in and cleaned up before the feast in their honour was due to begin, then called for a servant to lead them to their rooms, Lan Fan long vanished into the shadows of the entryway.
Ed wasn't surprised when May showed up not ten minutes after he and Al'd been left to their own devices in the room they were to share for the duration of their stay. She didn't even bother with a knock, just burst into the room, calling, "Mr Alphonse!" and ran straight into Al's waiting arms.
Ed sighed and tried to pretend the curling of warmth in his chest was actually irritation at the intrusion, and not pleasure at the chance to see Al and May reunited after almost a year and a half apart.
He let them hug for a long while, but when they both looked at each other in that same way Teacher and Sig always had right before things got a little too personal for young eyes, and their faces started to gravitate toward each other, Ed stalked over and thumped his brother on the head.
"Edward!" Al complained, deigning to free one hand from May's back so he could rub at the top of his head.
"You two can start sucking face after we sort out this wreck," Ed returned, unimpressed, and they both flushed, May's only barely visible underneath her however many unnecessary layers of makeup. "Idiots."
"A most excellent point!" Ling called, before stepping in through the window, wearing far more sensible clothing than he'd greeted them in.
Ed threw his hands up into the air, reminded of why he'd hated Ling so much before he'd been taken over by Greed and the homunculus' even more obnoxious bad habits had erased Ling's from his memory.
Ling flashed him a cheerful smile, then turned toward Al and May before Ed gave into the urge to punch his stupid face. "May, we talked about this," he said, his voice going lower, but still kind; not entirely unlike how Ed spoke to Al on those rare occasions when he needed to be the sensible one. "Being caught fraternising with a foreigner may well bring your elders to believe they need to ignore tradition and marry you off sooner, and will certainly ruin any chances you currently have at marrying Al."
May slumped a bit and made a show of stepping back, out of Al's embrace. "I know," she said, sounding as heart-broken as Al looked.
Ed grunted and kicked a nearby pillow into the wall, then looked up at Ling. "This is your country, Your Imperial Arsehole; what do we need to do to get Al in these elders' good graces?"
Ling offered a brief, amused smile at the insult, while Al just sort of groaned, resigned. Then Ling's expression turned more serious as he folded his hands together in front of himself. "Lineage may be your most powerful weapon, in this," he offered, his eyebrows drawing tight together. "From what I recall of his tale, your father is very likely the one we of Xing refer to as the Philosopher of the West."
Ed shrugged and nodded. "I expect so. I mean, it's not like he's around any more to ask for confirmation, but, from what old man Fu told me, he was a contemporary of our Philosopher of the East, who popped up about four hundred years ago, and we're now nearly certain was the Dwarf in the Flask."
Ling nodded, but it was May who quietly said, "No one will believe you're his sons, but it's a widely accepted legend that the Philosopher of the West had gold hair and eyes, just like you both do; you can pass for descendants."
"Simple enough," Ed agreed, and Al nodded. "Any other ideas, in case that one either falls through, or isn't awesome enough?"
Ling offered Al a smile that made the hair on the back of Ed's neck stand on end. "We lack an ambassador from Amestris, if you can play the part?"
"Me?" Al squeaked, his eyes gone wide. "But I–I'm a no one."
"You're the brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist, and a national hero," Ed reminded him, and Al flushed again, ducking his head and absolutely refusing to look at May.
(Ed wasn't sure if he wanted to coo – which was disturbing – or gag.)
Ling hummed, eyeing Ed. "In terms of official status, you'd make the better ambassador."
Ed snorted. "No one in their right mind would call me diplomatic."
"That's the truth," Al muttered, and Ed shot him a scowl, while May giggled.
Ling coughed. "You're well within your rights to name someone you trust to speak in your stead during peace talks."
Ed raised an eyebrow at that. "So...what? Al sits in on the boring meetings, while I get to tour the city and be a privileged fuck?"
Ling smiled at him. "I couldn't have put it better myself."
Ed pointed a threatening finger at him. "Don't think I won't punch you in the face just because I don't know where your shadow is, Your Imperial Arsehole."
Ling's smile widened. "Punching the emperor would be a terrible way to start our peace talks, Ambassador Elric."
Ed couldn't stop a grimace. "Ugh, just kill me now and get it over with. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this shit."
"Are you sure it's okay, though?" Al asked quietly, and Ed looked over to find him wringing his hands. "I mean, we don't have Führer Grumman's permission to be part of any peace talks on his behalf; I don't even think he knows we're here."
Ed shrugged. "We'll send a letter back asking permission," he decided, unconcerned. "It's true enough that we could use some sort of formal treaty with Xing, and it's not like I'm some little no-name kid with a high opinion of himself."
Al sighed. "I guess. But, well, you retired, Brother."
"Pretty sure there's no rules about Amestrisan diplomats needing to be current members of the military," Ed pointed out in return, and Al grimaced, likely as aware as Ed about what he hadn't said: He was pretty sure they would be the first true Amestrisan diplomatic party in the history of their country.
Ling cleared his throat and offered, "There are also customs that must be observed in requesting May's hand."
Al sighed again, far more heartfelt, while Ed scowled and complained, "What, being descended from a legend, saving a country, and being a fucking epic diplomat isn't enough for you people?"
Al moaned and, when Ed looked over, found he'd dropped his face into his hands and was shaking his head, while May gently patted his shoulder, part of her bottom lip caught between her teeth, like she was maybe trying not to laugh.
Ed looked back at Ling and raised his eyebrows at the idiot pri– Correction, idiot emperor.
Ling raised his own eyebrows back. "Xingan marriages must be properly debated, planned, and performed to bring the greatest amount of luck to the new couple."
"That," Ed returned flatly, ignoring Al's rather pointed groan, "is scientifically unsound and complete bollocks."
Ling coughed, his eyes gleaming with what Ed was nearly certain was amusement. "I expected you to say that," he admitted, "but your feelings on the matter aside, you will have to, as you say, play by Xingan rules, if you intend for Al to marry a Xingan princess in Xing."
Ed grimaced and rubbed his hands over his face, buying time to remind himself that this was for Al, and he'd already decided there wasn't a fucking thing he wouldn't do for the sake of his brother's happiness.
"Fine," he said as he dropped his hands back to his sides, "tell us what we need to do."
"Not both of you," Ling corrected, pointing between Ed and Al, "only you." He pointed firmly at Ed.
Ed frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "What the actual fuck? What've I got to do with any of this?"
May cleared her throat and, almost certainly prompted by Al, interrupted, "I don't know the custom in Amestris, but in Xing, it is the grandparents and parents who settle the details of the union. Usually, the two people getting married won't even meet until their wedding day."
"In Amestris," Al offered, before Ed could start snarling about what a bunch of backward fucks this whole country was, "only the two people interested in starting a relationship are involved in the process, though it's considered common courtesy to introduce each other to your families before you start talking about marriage." He cleared his throat and added, "Arranged marriages did happen, according to some of the history books I've read, but it's only done among the really rich, any more."
"Remind me to ask you more of this," Ling suggested, clearly aimed at both Ed and Al, before focussing on Ed again. "As all of your family is dead, it falls to you, as the eldest son, to make the match for Al."
Ed scowled and tightened his arms across his chest, but nodded in understanding.
"Customarily, a matchmaker is the one who makes the initial contact, but it's not unheard of for the male's parents to make the initial contact with the female's parents on their own." Ling took a careful breath, his expression twisting with a grimace. "I can help you figure out what to say, and what gifts to give, but I can't go with you; all of your contact with the Changs will have to be done alone."
Ed grimaced himself, because that had the potential to go completely to shit very, very fast.
Still, this was for Al, and if he couldn't keep a handle on his temper and shitty language for long enough to help his brother marry his soulmate, what fucking good was he?
"Have you got a book on the customs?" he asked, couldn't quite keep his tone from being grudging.
Ling offered him a faint smile, though, and nodded. "I'll have the best ones I can find delivered to your room by the end of the feast. Once you've read them, let me know, and we can go over anything you're having trouble with."
Reading up on Xingan marriage customs had not been how Ed expected to spend his first two weeks in Xing, but it gave him something to do while Al played at diplomacy with Ling and his ministers. Once he'd finished, he sent a servant to pass a note to Ling that read, 'You people sure take the possibility of a bride being possessed by evil seriously. Forget to tell someone about your adventures in Amestris?'
"I," Ling announced as he stepped through their room's window that evening, "am not expected to bear any children."
"I don't want to know," Al muttered into the papers he'd been bowed over since they'd returned from dinner.
Ed snorted as he leant over to unbury the notes he'd taken while he'd been reading. "Yeah, so," he told Ling as the idiot emperor came over to sit across from him, "you people are so many kinds of fucking ridiculous, you realise that, right?"
Ling smiled at him. "Coming from you, that's practically a compliment."
Al snickered and quickly ducked his head when Ed turned a scowl on him.
Ed huffed and turned back to Ling, waving his notes at him. "Fuck off. I've got questions, yeah, but, also, can I borrow Lan Fan one day?"
Ling frowned. "Lan Fan? Why?"
"Because I'm betting it's bad karma or some shit to ask the emperor for a tour, and it'll look sketchy if I ask May to point out her folks to me. Which leaves Lan Fan. So I need to borrow her."
Ling sighed. "I'll ask her," he promised.
That was really about as much as Ed knew he could expect on that front, so he turned to the far more tedious task of figuring out what drugs Xingans were on when they made up their betrothal and wedding customs.
Lan Fan was willing to play tour guide for Ed, having ordered two members of the palace guard to keep an eye on Ling in her stead. (Personally, Ed would have been plenty soothed by the promise of Al being in the room with him, but he also thought Ling's face was in need of a few punches, so he was fairly certain his opinion would be discounted out of hand.)
The Imperial Palace was fucking huge – Ed had sort of been distantly aware of that, just from having seen the outside of it – and he was glad to have a guide who he knew and trusted not to leave him in some dusty corner as some sort of really fucked up joke. (Another reason he hadn't wanted Ling to show him around.)
Lan Fan was efficient, unsurprisingly, giving him quiet directions as she led him through the various hallways and showed him into any rooms he was allowed to peek into. He wasn't certain he'd remember everything, but he'd taken care to memorise the route between his guest quarters and the hall where the Chang clan had a presence, as well as the path to Ling's hallway. (Which he was fairly certain he'd only been allowed to see because of who his guide was.) She'd also pointed out a number of shadowed nooks, places where an assassin could easily lay in wait without anyone the wiser.
"Why show me these?" Ed asked after the third one, eyeing her curiously. "Not that I'm ungrateful–" on the contrary, being aware of potential danger was strangely settling "–but I assume you use those to avoid notice, just like any would-be assassins would."
Lan Fan shrugged. "Knowing where I could be, won't help you much in actually spotting me."
That was...true. Damn.
As she pointed to another spot, she added, "The treaty with Amestris, while popular enough, has some opponents. None vocal enough for concern, yet, but I've learnt to plan ahead when possible; Alphonse allowed me to put a guard on him, but you won't."
Ed offered her a slightly helpless smile and shrugged. "I don't like being followed."
She let out an uncharacteristic snort. "You and His Imperial Majesty both," she returned, and Ed looked away so she wouldn't see his grin, plenty familiar with Ling's habit of losing his guards. Lan Fan stopped then, catching his arm with too-cool fingers, and Ed raised an eyebrow at her, distantly wondering how many Xingans were unnerved by her metal arm. "I'll make you a deal," she offered, her eyes too sharp behind her mask. "No guards inside the palace, in trade for you not attempting to lose your guard if you go into town."
Ed could see the sense in having a guard out in the city, should he choose to leave the palace, and he'd very likely need the help in finding his way the first few times, so... "Agreed," he promised.
"Thank you." She inclined her head, then turned and continued the tour.
With Edward free of the military's leash, and utterly silent for the past year, the last thing Roy had expected was for Führer Grumman, near the tail end of Roy's weekly phone report, to say, "I received an interesting letter from Major Elric a couple days ago."
'Major Elric', because Grumman was one of those people who always used a soldier's rank, never their code name, even after they'd retired. Edward, had he been listening, would very likely have been furious.
Roy cleared his throat. "Interesting how, sir?"
"Apparently, he and his brother are in Xing," Grumman said, all unaware of how much those words had just made breathing a struggle for Roy; there was a sort of dark humour in Edward putting an entire desert between them. "They're requesting permission to draft and sign a peace treaty with the new emperor on Amestris' behalf."
It took a moment for Grumman's words to find purchase in the blank space that Roy's mind had just turned into, but then what he'd said registered, and Roy heard himself flatly state, "Well, there goes any chance we might have had at signing a formal peace treaty with Xing."
Grumman chortled. "You think so? Perhaps they'll surprise us; if anything can be said of Major Elric and his brother, it's that they never fail to produce results that benefit us."
"If you say so, sir," Roy returned blandly, because what he remembered best about Edward's many missions, was the amount of extra paperwork he ended up with, due to the boy's hair-trigger temper and habit of destroying everything in sight when in pursuit of a target.
"I believe I'll put my faith in them once again," Grumman decided, before letting out a laugh that he'd likely intended to sound helpless, but just sounded especially amused, to Roy. "Likely, they're already talking to the Xingan emperor."
"That sounds like something Fullmetal would do," Roy agreed, because Edward had never been the sort to ask permission.
He also rarely asked forgiveness, now Roy thought about it, unless someone forced his hand. (Usually Alphonse.) And, apparently, he sometimes fled to an entirely different country without a word to anyone until it was too late to stop him.
No, he was not going to be sore about this. Hadn't he already decided that Edward staying well away from him was best for the boy?
"However, sir," he cautioned, mostly to avoid recognising the constriction of his chest, "I wouldn't get my hopes up too much."
"Don't worry about me, Brigadier General," Grumman shot back without missing a beat. "You've got far more immediate problems to focus on."
That was true enough; playing mediator between the Ishvalans and the military was no simple task, especially given who he was.
He almost wanted to switch places with Edward. Almost.
He hung up with Grumman not long after that and went to hunt down Riza, because she was the only one who would understand when he said, "Fullmetal's in Xing."
Riza stiffened, her eyes widening just enough to be noticeable. "In Xing?" she repeated, so clearly disbelieving.
Roy shrugged. "He and Alphonse apparently fancy themselves to be diplomats, now," he offered with what he hoped was an amused smile.
She didn't smile back. Instead, her mouth turned down at the corners, something worryingly akin to pity in her eyes. "Sir–"
"I only assumed you'd be interested in the update," Roy interrupted, turning away from her. "Carry on, Captain."
"Yes, sir," she agreed with military efficiency.
Roy didn't look back as he walked away; he couldn't face her grief on his behalf.
Ed was completely unsurprised when Grumman's return letter gave them permission to treat with Xing on his behalf – Ed was technically the one in charge, as he was older and had the official military title, but he suspected that Grumman was fully aware that he was keeping well away from everything he could – as well as a list of topics to cover during the talks, most of which Al had brought up long before the letter's arrival.
As for requesting May's hand for Al... So far, all of their extremely unscientific forays into the luck surrounding the potential marriage had come back with positive results. The Changs certainly appeared willing to agree to the match, but there was a run of completely pointless and vaguely insulting haggling over the price that they were owed in return for May, as well as an exchange of gifts and debating the wedding date to get through, before it was all set in stone.
Ed had, with funds given to him by Ling, already gone out and collected those items that would best serve as a gift for the Changs. His guard that day, Gang Li, had actually been quite helpful there, as he'd bargained for his own son's marriage only the year before. They'd commiserated a bit about how stressful the whole thing was, and Gang'd had some helpful pointers for the haggling. (Ling's best suggestion had been to, "Let them win.")
He'd also, while he was out, found some things to send to Winry and Granny, pending Al's approval – they were supposed to be from both of them, and fuck knew Ed's aesthetic tastes had never aligned with anyone else's – and a miniature black Xingan dragon – small enough he could easily hide it in his fist without anyone the wiser – carved from a single branch and painted over with resin from the tree that had supplied the branch, he'd been informed upon asking.
Not really something that would have caught his eye, normally – too few spikes, for one – but, at the right angle, the resin looked red, instead of black, and the little orb in its foreclaws had developed a few spikes upward, which the seller had declared a flaw, but Ed had seen, from the perfect angle, looked like the alchemic symbol for fire.
He hadn't even really thought about what he was doing until after he'd handed over the necessary yuan and walked away, stopping in disbelief a few stalls further down as he realised he'd bought the damn thing because it reminded him of Mustang.
He'd told himself he couldn't return it, lest it be seen as an insult, but he didn't have any excuse for the way he'd kept it in his pocket since, sometimes pulling it out to look at it when he was alone.
Like right then, leaning against the railing overlooking the Imperial Gardens, twisting the figure this way and that between his fingers, and letting himself smile a bit tiredly as the light from the full moon lit the red hidden in the resin.
"You found your soulmate," Ling said from behind him, completely unexpected.
Ed flinched and turned to look back over his shoulder, feeling weirdly guilty at being caught staring at his impulse buy, especially since it had been purchased with funds Ling had given to him for Al's betrothal.
Ling was wearing what Ed had come to realise were casual robes, which still looked unnecessarily extravagant, but less so than what he wore when he was holding court or accepting guests; they were what he wore around the palace, when he wasn't sneaking through windows to visit Ed and Al in secret. Lan Fan was standing at the top of the flight of stairs, close enough to come to Ling's aide if he was attacked, but far enough to grant some semblance of privacy. (A part of Ed was just glad she wasn't lurking out of sight; that always unnerved him, even though he trusted her not to jump out and try giving him a heart attack for the sheer amusement factor.)
Ling stepped forward, coming to a stop at the railing next to Ed and looking at the dragon he was holding. "The red doesn't show up in greyscale," he commented.
Ling was quiet for a moment, before suggesting, tone full of painful understanding, "It didn't work out."
Ed sighed again and shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe. He knew, for years, and never even let on."
Ling was silent as he considered that, head turned to stare out over the garden ahead of them. "I don't know how they're looked upon in Amestris," he said at last, tone far more careful than Ed was used to hearing from him when he wasn't playing at Emperor, "but, in Xing, same-gender soulmates are assumed to be mismatches."
Ed frowned. "Mismatches?"
Ling shrugged. "You read of our customs; marriage is meant to result in the strongest possible continuation of the family line. To be paired with another of your own gender is a mistake of the gods, and the soulmates are forcefully separated, if necessary, and married off to more acceptable matches."
Ed felt sick at the thought, clenching his fist tight around his stupid dragon. "You don't believe that," he said, was a little surprised by how raspy his voice came out.
"It doesn't matter what I believe," Ling replied, and the hard lines of his face reminded Ed of the slightly pinched look he sometimes got when someone suggested Lan Fan should be looking at marriage prospects, rather than doing a man's duty of guarding the emperor. "Laws can be rewritten, but cultural beliefs aren't so easy to change."
Ed turned his eyes toward the garden. "Fuck that."
The sound Ling let out couldn't really be called a laugh, but Ed assumed that's what he'd been aiming for, anyway. "Is it different, in Amestris?" he asked, instead of pointing out what they both already knew: Living out your life with your soulmate wasn't the norm in Xing.
"I don't know," Ed admitted, feeling tired. "I think it depends on the people, a bit. Like, no one in Rush Valley seems to care that Winry and Paninya are soulmates, and Garfiel's been openly gay since long before we met him, and he hasn't had any problems. But that's..." He shook his head, not really sure how to follow that.
"You're a national hero, and an ambassador," Ling said for him.
Ed scoffed at the last. "I'm an ambassador in name only, and we both know it."
Ling straightened and made a show of looking thoughtful. "Well, I've yet to receive any complaints about your conduct, and the city still stands, despite you having been here for almost three months." He flashed Ed a smile that made him want to punch him. "I'd say you make a surprisingly effective diplomat."
Ed rolled his eyes. "Not blowing shit up doesn't make me a fucking diplomat, Your Imperial Arsehole, it just makes me a good houseguest."
Ling laughed at that, relaxing against the railing again and actually looking his age, for once; becoming emperor had aged him far more than carrying the weight of his clan, or playing host to Greed ever could have, and the deepening wrinkles around his mouth and eyes always made Ed's chest hurt a little. "Well, thank you for not destroying my house, then."
Ed stuck his tongue out at him, mostly just to make the idiot laugh again, which he did.
As Ling calmed back down, Ed sighed and drooped against the railing, looking at the dragon in his hand again. "It's Mustang," he said, the first time he'd admitted it to anyone.
Ling let out a startled breath. "Oh." He coughed, and Ed glanced over to find his face twisted into a sort of amused grimace. "That's..."
"A massive fucking train wreck?" Ed suggested flatly.
Ling coughed again, very obviously not looking at Ed. "Complicated," he offered.
"Just say it like it is, instead of playing at diplomacy, would you?" Ed complained.
Ling shook his head and asked, "Al doesn't know, does he?"
Ed sighed and shook his own head. "I couldn't tell him. He'd tell me to go home and sort things with the bastard, but he's made it pretty fucking clear I'm nothing but trouble for him; there's nothing to fucking fix." He looked away, up toward the moon, and added, "Anyway, I have to stay here. For Al's sake. Gotta sort out him and May."
Ling let out a loud, obvious sigh. "Are you ever going to stop living your life for your brother?"
Ed glared at him, because that had been one of Greed's lines. "Shut the fuck up. You don't have the right to talk, Emperor Ling."
Ling's expression tightened. "I have all the right to talk," he returned, voice gone flat. "I know exactly what I'm sacrificing, and I'll regret it until the day I die, because there's no way I'll be able to outlive this duty. But Al will stop needing you, one day; you're not trapped yet."
Ed looked away and struggled to swallow past the tightness of his throat. "So, what? Get locked into the same shit situation as you and Lan Fan?"
"Unlike in Xing," Ling reminded him, a note of irritation in his voice, "Amestris' leader isn't expected to have an heir."
...shit, right. Ed hadn't thought about that. Amestris also didn't have class or clan barriers getting in the way, like it was for Ling and Lan Fan. The only social hurdles he and Mustang would face were age and gender. And, too, their own past, but that was...complicated, he supposed. They'd driven each other to violence multiple times, had suffered through three years as subordinate and commanding officer, before fighting their way through what could have been the end of the world, neither of them coming through unscathed (even if Mustang had fixed his sight, you never forgot the sensation of being trapped in the Gate and having too much knowledge shoved into your head).
And now...what were they? Soulmates, he assumed, but what did that even mean? For Ling and Lan Fan, it seemed to mean being lonely a lot, putting duty before the person who meant the world to them; for Al and May, it seemed to mean longing glances and a sense of anticipation for the future; for Winry and Paninya, it looked all too much like being best friends, moving constantly in step, and leaning against each other as they laughed or cried.
Ling sighed. "If not for yourself, will you try it for me?"
Ed frowned at him, confused. "For you?"
Ling offered him a smile that looked crooked. "For Lan Fan and me," he agreed.
Ed blinked, feeling a little like his heart hurt, because he got it; Ling was asking him to do the one thing he couldn't: Find a way to be with his soulmate the way it was supposed to be, even though one of them had to make the wishes of their country their priority.
He looked back down at the dragon in his hand; wondered, briefly, what he would do if Mustang told him to take a hike, before remembering Ling's expression while they'd been trapped in Gluttony's stomach, when he'd admitted that Lan Fan was his soulmate, and they could never be anything more than what they were, because those were the rules of their culture. Ling was doing everything in his power to help Ed bend those same rules for Al and May; the least Ed could do was go home to Amestris and face Mustang again.
"After Al and May's wedding," he said quietly, closing his hand around his dragon again, "I'll take the signed treaty back to Amestris."
The breath that Ling let out sounded like he'd been holding it for years, and Ed looked over to find a broken little smile being directed his way. "Thank you," Ling said.
"Just...don't get your hopes up," Ed warned him a bit awkwardly, looking back toward the garden and tracing the glow of the moonlight on the shrubs and stone path with his eyes. "Like I said, he's made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me."
Ling caught him around the shoulders and drew him into a sideways hug, which Ed scowled and made a desperate bid to escape from, to no avail; fucking idiot emperor. "I have every faith in your stubbornness."
"My stubbornness is gonna land an elbow in your stomach if you don't fucking let me go!" Ed snarled.
Ling laughed as he freed him, and Ed's huff wasn't quite as irritated as he'd intended it to be, softened by the honesty of the idiot's amusement.
He tried not to be too annoyed that he was apparently a sap for his friends' happiness.
Finally, after another month of forcing a polite smile for the Changs, they settled on a date for the wedding. Which, actually, Ed had been the hold up, that time.
In Xing, the age of majority – and, therefore, marriageability – was fourteen, and May would be thirteen in another couple months, which meant they could have the marriage as early as a year and a half from then, planning around a couple of those tedious unlucky days (which Ed didn't inquire after, for the sake of his own sanity).
However, in Amestris, the age of majority was sixteen, with only a handful of young couples actually getting married before at least one of them had turned eighteen, and Al would only be seventeen during the earliest possible date.
Ed couldn't do it. As much as he wanted his brother and May together as soon as possible, he couldn't, in good conscience, ignore the laws of his own culture simply because they would be having the wedding in Xing, where the rules were looser, or because Al and May were soulmates.
Hating himself just a little bit as he did so, Ed insisted they wait three years, and while the Changs were clearly mystified by his insistence that May be sixteen before the wedding, they were able to agree on a date the week after her birthday.
When Al returned from his meeting with Ling and his ministers, Ed was sitting on the edge of their low table, bent forward with his head hanging down toward his knees and his hands locked together at the back of his neck.
"Brother?" Al asked, so clearly worried.
"We have a date for the wedding," Ed offered quietly.
Al didn't move from next to the door, and Ed didn't need to look up to know his expression would be tense; this should have been a happy moment, dammit. "And?" Al finally prompted, when Ed couldn't quite figure out how to explain what he'd done.
"The eleventh of December," Ed managed at last.
"Well, that's–"
"1919."
Whatever Al had been holding hit the floor with a crash and a flutter of papers. "Three years?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "Why would they–?"
"Me," Ed interrupted, finally freeing his head and looking up to meet his brother's eyes, refused to let himself flinch away from the look of betrayal he was met with. "I'm the one who insisted we wait."
"Why would you do that?" Al demanded, anger reddening his cheeks and twisting his expression into something terrible. "I thought you were on our side, Ed!"
"I am," Ed shot back with a glare. "She's only twelve!"
"She'll be thirteen in a couple months!" Al pointed out, his voice rising. "And the age of marriageability is fourteen, in Xing–"
"We are not Xingan, Alphonse!" Ed snarled. "You are an Amestrisan citizen, and a diplomat besides; you can't ignore one law just because–"
"She's my soulmate, Edward!" Al shouted back, before something vicious crossed his face. "Not that you'd know what it's like to have one."
That hit like a punch to the solar plexus, and it was all Ed could do to stand and find the breath necessary to flatly state, "You're waiting three years. That's final." And then he brushed past his brother and out of their room.
As soon as the door had latched behind him, Ed heard Al let out a scream of rage that he actually probably would have been proud of, under any other circumstances, and the sound of something shattering.
Ed let his feet lead him wherever they would as he struggled to catch his breath. When he found himself in the fucking garden he'd made his promise to Ling to talk to Mustang as soon as Al and May were married in, he heard himself let out a laugh that sounded way too close to broken, and bypassed the railing for one of the benches that speckled the paths. Most of the flowers were dead, this late in autumn, but he found a little red blossom struggling to hang on just within reach of the bench, and leant forward to stare at it, for no other reason than that it was something to focus on that wasn't his own shame.
He wasn't certain how long he'd sat there, staring at that flower – long enough for the sun to start to set and the servants to come through and light the nearby lanterns – when Al said from behind him, quietly, "It's red."
"I know," Ed admitted, feeling too tired and worn to keep hiding this from his brother. "I have known. Punched Mustang's shoulder while we were all in hospital and just–" He shrugged and sat up a bit so he could make an exploding motion with his hands. "Pretty sure he knew the whole time."
Al's arms reached around from behind him, and Ed found himself being hugged, Al's face pressed against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know. Why didn't I know?" he added, his voice breaking on the last word.
Ed pressed his hands against the arms wrapped around his chest, holding his brother there. "You were sleeping half the day, and spending the other half trying to adapt to being able to smell and touch and taste things again, as well as suddenly having colour vision; it wasn't hard to hide it from you."
Al pulled away from him and stepped over the bench to sit down next to him. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, shining in the flickering flame from the nearby lantern, but that didn't detract even the slightest from the scowl he shot at Ed. "Why didn't you tell me? Didn't I deserve to know?"
Ed sighed and shook his head. "Al, I'd just found out my soulmate knew about me for at least three years and had made a point of not touching me so I wouldn't find out, and then he fucking left without a backwards glance as soon as he was released; I didn't even want to think about it, much less tell anyone else what had happened." He looked away from Al's broken expression and cleared his throat. "I get it, though. I was a pain in his arse, and a kid, besides; the last thing he wanted was to be saddled with me as a soulmate."
"That's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair," Ed said flatly, turning a bland look on his brother. "We, of all people, know that."
Al swallowed and shook his head, expression turning mulish. "Well, you're not a kid any more, so I think you should just go back home and–and– I don't know! Tell him he's stupid!"
Ed couldn't stop the laughter that burst out of him, at that, and Al followed suit after another moment.
When they both managed to stop laughing, he offered his brother a tired smile, and agreed, "I will. After you're married."
Al's expression twisted, caught between a handful of emotions, and Ed could only make out what looked like anger, and maybe disbelief?
"But, then, if we hold it sooner–"
"I said no, Alphonse," Ed interrupted, frowning. "You can wait three years, and so can I."
Al slumped and muttered, "Fine. But you have to start coming to the treaty meetings, since you're not playing nice with the Changs any more."
Ed grimaced, but had to admit that sounded like a fair punishment for forcing Al and May to wait. "Yeah, all right. But if I say something stupid and fuck everything up, I'm blaming you."
Al shoved him, so Ed shoved him back, and they kept shoving each other until they'd both fallen off the bench and shared a laugh over how stupid they were.
It wouldn't be easy, but Ed knew they could wait another three years for happiness, so long as they still had each other.
A/N: Art for this chapter:
Ed & Ling talking in the garden by eirelis
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