Fullmetal Alchemist: Blood Ties (14/14: Plans)

[jordannamorgan]

Title: Blood Ties (14/14: Plans)
Author: jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: PG for fantasy violence and blood.
Characters: A whopping big ensemble across two worlds, although the strongest focus is on Ed.
Setting: First anime. Same timeframe as CoS, two years after the end of the series.
Summary: Alternative to Conqueror of Shamballa. An old enemy plunges Ed into the dark secrets of his new world, linked to the alchemy he thought lost to him—while in Amestris, Al faces a life-or-death choice. Will the nightmare Ed is drawn into provide the key to both their fates?
Disclaimer: They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I’m just playing with them.



Telling the tale of his journey had been difficult for Ed, but the rest of the day more than made up for it. He spent the time doing nothing at all except basking in the presence of the people he cared for, and hearing their own stories of the last two years. Apart from Al’s illness, it seemed as if everyone had gotten along fairly well without him after all, and that was a thought he now found comforting. With the new mission he had set for himself in life, he was sure he would still need frequent reminding that he didn’t have to bear this entire world on his shoulders.

Lunchtime brought a picnic in the grass outside, under the warm sun, and that simplicity was the most splendid luxury Ed had ever known. After he ate, he promptly fell asleep on the picnic blanket; the nocturnal hours of a dhampir were yet another item on his list of lingering habits to break. It touched him deeply that his brother and his friends stayed with him until he awoke, because even in his sleep, he felt safe and well with them near him.

The obverse of his daytime napping was that, when the evening grew late, he still felt wide-awake. Al, Winry, Izumi, and even Mustang gamely pretended not to be tired after the long and emotional day, but Ed took pity on them at midnight, and announced he was going to bed. Leaving their company was really the last thing he wanted to do, but everyone else needed sleep, and the process of readjusting his circadian rhythms had to start somewhere.

When the Elrics had retired to their childhood bedroom, Al turned out the light and crawled into Ed’s bed without a word, and the elder brother had to struggle to resist glad tears.

So Ed snuggled close and laid his cheek on the top of Al’s head, the way he had when they were very young. Just for tonight, he told himself. He was getting far too old to treat Al like a security blanket, and given the indignities the younger Elric already faced in his underaged body, Ed didn’t think Al himself would put up with it for long… but for now, it was okay.

It was okay to lie awake in the dark, listening to the miracle of his brother’s breathing, flesh fingers gently caressing soft hair he had thought he would never touch again. It was okay that when they woke up to each other’s warmth, they would both know this day had not been a dream.

Real dreams did come to Ed, for the first time in days, when he finally slept. Not all of them were good; Al had to soothe him back to sleep once after he woke up sobbing, assailed by ghosts of fear and grief that had followed him from the other world. It was better after that, though, and he slept on undisturbed until late in the morning.

Al was still asleep when Ed awakened, reedy limbs tangled awkwardly around his older brother’s flesh and steel. Ed was perfectly content to go on holding him, half-drowsing in the glow of the sunlight that streamed through the window…

Somewhere in that bittersweet happiness, the exact moment came when he truly and fully accepted that he was home.

By the time Al stretched languorously and opened his eyes, it was almost noon. He grinned lazily at his brother as Edward sat up—and then he raised an eyebrow at Ed’s expression. “Hmm?”

Gulping down the beginnings of a fresh lump in his throat, Ed blinked and shrugged. “Oh… nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About… how ticklish you used to be.”

“Oh no, Ed, wait—not that—!”

The resulting pillow fight did not exactly qualify as a round of morning sparring, but it was an acceptable substitute.

When the brothers finally made their way downstairs, they headed straight for the kitchen, eager to make up for the breakfast they had skipped. They found Pinako busily preparing a lunch of soup and sandwiches, with the help of Winry and Mason.

As Ed and Al approached, Pinako turned to them, and smiled almost fiendishly.

“Well, I thought you boys were going to sleep all day. You already missed breakfast. Not to mention the arrival of an honored guest…”

“EDWARD AND ALPHONSE!” a tremendous voice bellowed behind the brothers—and Alex Louis Armstrong caught them both up in a bone-wrenching hug, sobbing joyfully.

Ed was really starting to miss his dhampir senses. They had made him so much more difficult to sneak up on.

“Ngh,” he groaned, fighting to inhale a breath as he squirmed in the Füehrer’s crushing squeeze. “At least he kept his shirt on…”

“That is one thing we convinced him to do, for the dignity of his office,” General Mustang chuckled, coming up behind Armstrong. “Ah… most of the time, anyway.”

With some effort, Ed managed to pry himself—and Al—out of Armstrong’s embrace. After a gulp of much-needed air, he folded his arms and frowned up at the enormous alchemist. “You didn’t have to come all the way to Resembool, you know. I was expecting to come and see you in Central.”

“Perhaps, but when I heard you were safely home, and that Alphonse was well again—I couldn’t wait another hour to share my gladness with you!” Armstrong thundered bombastically. He stretched out his massive arms, his eyes welling up once more.

“Okay already, we get it!” Ed yelped, waving off another affectionate chokehold. Then his shoulders slumped, and he sighed, smiling up at the Füehrer. “I’m glad to see you, too… and congratulations on your new job.”

Only a walking contradiction like Armstrong could pull off such an expression of demure humility while at the same time proudly puffing out his chest. He smiled and bowed his head. “My one wish is to be a worthy servant of our people.”

“You already are, sir,” Al offered fondly.

Mustang pointedly cleared his throat. “In any case, celebrating this turn of events isn’t the only thing that brought the Füehrer here. He does want to discuss the things you’ve discovered, Ed. Of course I haven’t told him the details of your experiences, but if you’d prefer not to go through it all again…”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll do it,” Ed answered somberly.

Then he glanced over his shoulder at the bustling activity in the kitchen, and smiled.

“…After lunch.”



As he had at every meal since his return, Edward spent lunchtime quietly marveling at the gathering that sat around the Rockbells’ table. Had anyone told him two years earlier that this collection of people would one day come together amicably, he never would have believed it. Izumi Curtis was cheerfully breaking bread with officers of the military she once despised, and Pinako and Winry…

They were treating Roy Mustang with kindness and acceptance. Not as someone who had caused their pain—but as someone who shared it.

Ed didn’t want to know the details of how time had healed wounds in his long absence. He only wanted to embrace the fact gladly, because he needed these people. He needed all of them, and if the bonds between them were stronger, then he would be stronger too.

After the meal was over, Edward, Mustang, and Armstrong retired to the study. Without a word, Al invited himself as well, and the two older men knew better than to object to his technically-civilian presence for what was effectively official military business. The brothers sat together on the sofa, adjacent to the deep armchairs Mustang and Armstrong settled into, and a grave meeting commenced in that pleasant household setting.

In due course, Ed gave the slightly altered account of his experiences beyond the Gate once more, for what he hoped would be the last time in his life. This retelling was not exactly as difficult as the previous one, but it was the most awkward… mainly because Füehrer Armstrong bawled through most of it.

When the tale was told and they had quieted Armstrong down, he seemed quite prepared to take Ed’s word for the truth of it. Nevertheless, Ed offered the same proof he had given to Mustang, allowing Armstrong to experiment with the untransmutable coins from the other world. It was still just as effective a demonstration, and it left the Füehrer speechless with wonder.

“So what do you suggest, Edward?” Armstrong finally asked. “I’m sure General Mustang has told you that in your absence, a law was passed that expressly prohibits human transmutation. It isn’t simply a taboo anymore; it’s legally recognized as a crime.”

“I know that, and it is a start,” Ed sighed. “But it’ll be a hard law to enforce—and still, nobody really understands why human transmutation is wrong. I think most of the people who try it must be like Al and me. They don’t mean any harm, but they have no idea what the consequences are. That’s why education will do a lot more good than enforcement. And it’s why…” He grimaced, lowering his eyes.

“It’s why I want to go public with my case. If other alchemists out there are thinking of human transmutation, I want them to look at my body… and see the price I paid.”

Armstrong caught his breath sharply. “Edward—”

“It’s the only way. Someone who knows the truth has to speak out. Alchemists need to know that trying to bring back the dead will cost them a part of themselves… and they’ll get nothing in return but a soulless monster that only looks like the person they loved.”

Mustang frowned. “That’s the part that worries me. The idea of creating a homunculus would appeal to certain people.”

“If someone wants to use human transmutation for the wrong reasons, they’re going to do it anyway,” Al spoke up. “At least the truth would change the minds of well-meaning alchemists, like Brother and I were. We never would have done it if we’d known what would happen, and most alchemists must be the same way. We’re sure the truth will save more lives than it risks.”

“And what about your side of the story—those five years you spent as a tin can?” Mustang eyed Al thoughtfully, and then glanced at Ed. “Or the existence of the world on the other side of the Gate? Just how much of the truth do you plan to share, Ed?”

The older brother scowled. “Al and I have already agreed: we’re leaving what happened to him out of this. I’m the only one who’s going to take the blame for trying to bring our mother back. People don’t need to know alchemy can be used to bind a soul to steel.”

The Füehrer widened his eyes at Al. “I’m surprised you’d be willing to let your brother take this responsibility alone.”

“Ed is right,” Al admitted ruefully. “The transmutation that attached my soul to the armor is too dangerous to let people know about. We’ve already seen how it can be misused too—and I don’t want anyone else to suffer that way. And besides…” He shrugged and smiled thinly. “I’m still going to help Ed however I can. If an alchemist does try making a homunculus on purpose, or if more existing homunculi turn up, I’m ready to fight them with him.”

“And as for the other world… I don’t plan to tell that, either,” Ed continued quietly. “I don’t want anyone trying to cross the Gate. Supposing someone stupid enough to do that actually survived—no one from this world should ever have the chance to hurt Noa’s people any more than we already have. Or to bring the dhampir infection back here somehow.”

“For being so eager to teach other alchemists the truth, you seem to be very selective about it,” Mustang remarked mordantly.

“Hey, a minute ago, you were the one worried about the truth inspiring people with evil plans!” Ed shot back. “I never said this solution would be perfect. I’m just trying to make the best choice to protect both worlds. The one goal that will help everyone is to stop human transmutation. Learning that I lost my arm and leg when I tried to raise the dead, and then the thing I created tried to kill me—that should scare any decent alchemist away from the idea. That’s the only point I want to make.”

Edward hesitated for a brief moment. Then he concluded, softly but firmly: “I’m serious about this, General. As serious as I used to be about finding the Philosopher’s Stone. Someone I cared about sacrificed herself to send me back to our world—and this was the reason why. I’m not going to fail her. Nothing will stop me from using every means I have to fight against human transmutation. I want to do it with your help, but if I don’t have that… I’ll go it alone.”

“No you won’t, Brother,” Al asserted fiercely. He grasped Ed’s flesh hand, fixing Mustang and Armstrong with the hardest gaze his adolescent face could muster. “If you want to stop Ed, you’ll have to stop both of us.”

Mustang made a face and spread his hands. “You’ve heard my concerns, Füehrer. I think the benefits and the risks of this idea could go either way—but I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

Armstrong was silent and thoughtful for a long moment. At last he turned to Ed… and nodded grimly.

“Very well, Edward. I’ll accept your plan to publicly expose the consequences of human transmutation. Aside from defense and research, the State Alchemy Corps will adopt education as one of its primary missions. General Mustang—I want you to give the Elrics all cooperation in this effort.”

The head of the State Alchemists frowned. “Sir, are you absolutely convinced this is wise?”

“Perhaps only time will tell,” Armstrong said solemnly. “But of one thing I am sure, just as Edward was when he gave the power of alchemy to his comrades in the other world: ignorance is more dangerous than knowledge.”

Ed cracked a smile at Mustang. “Looks like you’ll have to do what I say for a change.”

“Don’t get cocky, Ed. It’s the Füehrer’s judgment I trust—not yours.” Mustang’s glower softened, and he sighed. “I may have reservations about your plan, but that doesn’t mean I won’t give you all the support I possibly can. If we’re going to do this, we have to make sure it works the way you hope it will, for everyone’s sakes.”

“Okay. Then here’s my first suggestion: offer amnesty to alchemists who come forward and admit to having tried human transmutation. If they cooperate with a State investigation of what they’ve done, let them be free from punishment under the new law.”

“After everything you’ve suffered to make amends for your deeds, you don’t believe we’d punish you by that law, do you?” Armstrong asked gently. “I have the authority to pardon you, Edward. You can consider it already done.”

“It’s not about me,” Ed replied with a frown. “Whatever human transmutations have been performed, a small number of them may have caused more homunculi to be born into this world—and you know they can only be destroyed here when they’re exposed to the remains of the person their creator meant them to be. That’s why we have to reach out to those alchemists and try to work with them, not just punish them. If the homunculus they created is here instead of in the other world, we’ll need their help to identify and kill it.”

“I’ll admit… that’s a valid point.” Mustang touched his left cheekbone, and Ed knew he was thinking of his battle with the monster once known as Füehrer Bradley. The General knew as well as anyone what it took to destroy a homunculus.

Armstrong nodded. “It’s not an unreasonable proposal. I’ll take steps to enact it immediately on my return to Central.”

“I also think more State Alchemist candidates need to be accepted each year,” Ed suggested. “The more alchemists have official training and a chance to do something positive with their skills, the better. It’d also encourage people to bring their alchemic research projects to the military, where they can be properly supervised.”

“That’s already been done,” Mustang said. “Once the new government came into power , there were a number of State Alchemists from the old regime who we felt we needed to discharge. We’ve had to accept more recruits to start replacing them, and that increase will be permanent.”

Füehrer Armstrong leaned forward, studying Ed thoughtfully. “That brings us to the question of your position, Edward. I realize you never had any great love of the military you served, and that it was simply a means to an end for you. If you prefer to take charge of the State Alchemists’ education initiative as a civilian advisor, that can be arranged. However…” He smiled, with a sudden, fond warmth. “If you do want to reclaim your status as a State Alchemist, you’ll be most happily welcomed back—with a promotion to the rank of full colonel.”

Ed grinned pensively. “I’m pretty sure the military isn’t what it was in the old days. Teacher wouldn’t be caught dead under the same roof with either of you if it was.” Then his expression sobered. “I’m more than ready to come back on the job as a State Alchemist, but there’s just one catch. If you want me… you’ll have to take Al in the bargain this time.”

Both of the older men gaped at Ed, and then at Al. He folded his hands and smiled back at them, in a way that was nothing short of smug.

“You’d honestly be alright with Al becoming a State Alchemist?” Mustang asked Ed incredulously.

“About as alright as I am with him leaving his body lying around while he goes wandering off in his armor,” Ed admitted candidly. “But in spite of appearances, Al is old enough now to make these decisions for himself. And besides that…” He shot an irritated look at his brother. “He’s blackmailing me.”

“It’s not blackmailing,” Al retorted. “We made a deal. I promised I’d keep my part in our human transmutation a secret—if you agreed to let me become a State Alchemist too. Equivalent Exchange, Brother.”

Mustang stifled a smirk behind his fist. “Alphonse, your devious streak has outdone itself.”

“There’s no sense in arguing with him,” Ed sighed. “Just like our old journey, I know nothing’s going to stop him from helping me in the work I plan to do. If he’s determined to follow me again, he might as well have all the benefits of the title this time.”

“And now there’s nothing to keep me from being certified,” Al pointed out cheerfully. “I can pass any physical I need to… well, at least when I get a little more of my strength back. I already passed the written exam six years ago. As for the skills test, I can transmute without a circle, just like Ed—and you know what I can do with my armor.”

Armstrong let out a deep chuckle. “There’s no need to sell your abilities to us, Alphonse. We know your worth… and if this is what you want, I have no doubt you’ll be as invaluable a State Alchemist as your brother.”

Al beamed at the Füehrer; and beside him, Ed smiled thinly and drew a deep breath, struggling with mixed emotions of pride and apprehension. Under the leadership of Armstrong and Mustang and the government they established, the military was indeed something very different than it had been while Dante pulled the strings. No longer the military’s dogs, the State Alchemists were moving into the future as a force for good. It was an honorable and worthy calling now—but it would still be dangerous.

At least the Elric brothers would face those dangers together, just as they always had.

“So does he get a cheesy new name too?” Ed queried fliply, to gloss over any sign of the conflict in his heart.

“That’s something else we’ve changed,” Mustang answered. “State Alchemists are allowed to choose their own titles now—subject to official approval, of course. Do you have anything in mind, Al?”

The younger Elric looked thoughtful. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? …The Armor Alchemist.” He shrugged and smiled. “I owe that to the suit. It kept my soul safe for all those years—and it’s still a part of who I am, and what I can do.”

At that, Ed resisted another pang of unwelcome emotion in himself, because Armstrong’s eyes were tearing up enough for both of them.

“The Armor Alchemist,” Armstrong murmured, smiling gently at the self-appointed bearer of the name.

The Füehrer reached down to his side, to unfasten the chain of his pocketwatch from his belt. He slid the bright silver casing from his pocket, and held out the watch. With wide and shining eyes, Al accepted it, running his fingers proudly over the Amestrian crest it bore.

Ed couldn’t suppress an aching little smile at that sight. He reached out to ruffle his brother’s hair… and then he glanced at General Mustang, raising a very expectant eyebrow.

Mustang made a sound that was something between a snort and a chuckle.

“Fine,” he groused, with ill-disguised amusement and affection. He removed his own pocketwatch, and casually tossed it to Ed.

The Fullmetal Alchemist caught the watch easily in his automail hand. He studied it for a long moment, silently cherishing its new and different meaning to him. At last his steel fingers closed over the silver lion on its surface, and he smiled at his commander with a grateful warmth, and a sense of promise that was as deep as it was rare.

I won’t let you down.

Then Al’s hand fell upon Ed’s metal fist, and the badge of office it held.

“No date inside the watch this time, Brother,” he said gently, meeting Ed’s gaze with hopeful, loving eyes. “No more looking back at the past. This time, it’s all for the future.”

Ed’s smile faltered just a little. He blinked mistily, and clasped his flesh hand over Al’s own.

“…Yeah.”



It was late morning, and the sun shone down warmly on the green hills of Resembool. Birds sang amidst the rustling leaves of the trees, while bright butterflies flitted between the wildflowers that dotted the grass.

A week after Edward’s return, his healing had come a long way. He was sleeping through the nights better, and he had finally stopped being surprised to find himself back in his rightful world each time he woke up. He still struggled with an anxious, irrational need to have Al and other loved ones near him constantly, but with some effort, he was fighting off that feeling.

To their credit, his brother and his friends were patient with him. They could all see that his experiences had changed him, and he knew he was expecting a quicker readjustment from himself than they did.

Physically, he was in perfect health. There were a few lingering mental aftereffects from his dhampir instincts, but they were ones he didn’t mind having. Although his senses were only human, he was more keenly aware of his perceptions than he had been before, and his reactions were a little quicker. Moreover, there was still a faint trace of the intense, protective sense of pack that had lurked in him when he was a dhampir, and this he chose to deliberately nurture in himself. Except for Al, he had never properly appreciated the people in his life; but strangely enough, a new love for them had arisen from that fiercely tender impulse he gained in undeath.

This time, he was resolved to do more to show them how he felt.

Füehrer Armstrong had returned to Central after only an overnight stay, to begin putting in motion some of the changes they had discussed. However, General Mustang and Major Hawkeye remained in Resembool, and Ed was touched. Mustang understood. Unasked for, his familiar presence was one more comfort to help ground Ed, as he focused on absorbing the reality of being home.

But Ed’s rest was over now. The more at ease he felt with being back in this world, the more restless he became to start his work on behalf of those in the other world. He was ready to move on, to write a new chapter in his life that he hoped would serve a greater good. It frightened him a little to think of facing the judgment of other alchemists, baring his scars and confessing his sins, perhaps in some cases being received with horror or contempt—but if it would make them understand, it would be worth it.

As a symbol of that purpose, he wore the flamel cross once again, a mute warning of the folly of pride. Al had given Ed’s old scarlet coat back to him, and he found it felt comforting on his shoulders. The clothes beneath it were black as before, but they were different from those of his younger years, trimmer and somewhat more like a uniform.

Only Al had discerned the truth: they were patterned after the garments of a Hunter.

Edward still counted himself as one of them. His separation from their world did not negate his promise. On this side of the Gate more than ever, he was determined to fight for the same cause as they, because now he was the only Hunter in the world of alchemy. He was the only one with a chance to stop vampires before they were ever created…

Except, perhaps, for Alphonse, who had followed him to hell and back, and gladly would again.

Whether Hunters or State Alchemists or a little of both, the mission they had taken upon themselves began today. In another two hours, along with Mustang and Hawkeye, the Elric brothers would board a train for Central. From that moment on, Ed would devote himself fully to teaching and fighting for the things he believed in. Just as Al had entreated him, he would spend the rest of his life looking forward.

But this morning, he was looking back one last time.

That was why he was at the cemetery, standing before the grave of Trisha Elric, with a dozen transmuted roses in his hand.

Four yellow roses for his mother, because she had loved the color of sunshine. Four white roses for Hohenheim, because Ed had finally made his peace with all the things his father had been and done. And four roses the deep crimson of blood for…

“The red ones are for her, aren’t they?”

The small voice at Ed’s side rang with the echo of steel. Al was occupying his armor this morning. The newly christened Armor Alchemist’s easy duality of forms was still strange to Ed, and he doubted it would ever cease to make him worry, but he was trying to accept it.

His heart ached as Al voiced the unspoken meaning, and he sighed deeply, closing his eyes. When at last he looked up to meet the gaze of Al’s metal proxy, his face was hard-set with determination.

“She’s the last, Al. The sacrifices end with her. I won’t lose anyone else to my mistakes.”

“I know, Brother,” Al said softly, and his gauntlet came to rest on Ed’s right shoulder, leather gently clasping over steel.

Al was trying his best to accept Ed’s choice, too. He was trying to accept that his brother alone would bear the final price for their shared sin, in the weight of automail that would be Ed’s burden for life. That he must never again risk his own well-being in an attempt to relieve or share that burden, because Ed refused to allow it anymore…

But in flesh or armor, Al’s shoulders were more than broad enough to bear all of Ed’s other burdens with him.

Ed reached up with his left hand, firmly squeezing Al’s unfeeling fingers, and they were silent in their own thoughts for a long moment. Finally he bent down to lay the roses on their mother’s grave. As he straightened, he gave Al a smile that was faint but genuine, and his steel knuckles tapped against the armor’s chestplate in a familiar, affectionate gesture.

“We’d better head back. We still have to get this walking junkheap of yours crated up for the trip to Central, you know.”

“You’re lucky you never called me that when it was the only body I had!”

With a snicker, Ed turned and started walking. Al followed him, and together they retraced the winding road that led back toward the Rockbell home.

After a few minutes, they rounded a corner to see a slim blonde figure coming their way. Winry smiled and waved a hand, quickening her steps until she reached them.

“Granny sent me after you,” she explained, with a small grin and a shrug. “You’ve been gone a while, and she wanted me to drag you back so she can feed you one more time before you go.”

Al chuckled. “It seems like all we’ve done for the last week is eat!”

In all fairness, the daily feasts Pinako cooked up had served Al especially well. With nourishment and exercise, the weight and muscle tone of his proper body were already dramatically improved. From looking at him, one would never have guessed he was only a week removed from a dire visit to death’s door—not that it was apparent in any case while he was using the armor, of course.

The trio continued on in silence for a short time, taking in the fresh brightness of the day. It was Ed who finally spoke up, glancing sidelong at Winry as she walked beside him.

“I’m kind of surprised you’re not upset about us leaving so soon.”

His mechanic gave him a thoughtful look, pursing her lips slightly. Then her gaze dropped to the ground before them.

“I know you have a job to do now that’s important to you. I guess… maybe I’ve learned what it’s like to feel that, too.” Winry shrugged. “With all the things that happened, we lost so much of our childhoods, and I used to just—want to have back what we had. But now that I’ve gotten a little older, I know life doesn’t work that way. Things change, and people change.” She raised her eyes, and Ed was surprised to see her smile. “But just because things are different now, that doesn’t mean they can’t be as good as they were… or even better.”

Nothing Winry could have said would have done more to lighten Ed’s heart. She had put his own feelings into words, and he smiled back at her with gladness.

“Besides,” Winry went on, “I won’t be staying here with Granny, either. When the Curtises go back to Dublith tomorrow, I’m going with them. They need a good automail mechanic there, and Mason wants to help me set up shop.”

The news was not quite a revelation. All week, Ed had observed the increasingly obvious warmth between Winry and Mason with an amused satisfaction; but he played along, raising an exaggeratedly shocked eyebrow at her. “Mason, eh?”

“I know he used to drive you a little crazy sometimes—but he’s been good for me, Ed. He’s really the one who held me together when I was so afraid we might lose Al. He’s sweet, and funny, and he’s…” Winry blushed vividly, lowering her eyes, and her voice fell to an abashed murmur. “He’s great with kids.”

Ed stopped walking, and for a brief moment, he stared at Winry. Then he let out a short laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Winry asked, glaring at him.

“You are.” Ed smiled at the girl who was a sister to him, and proceeded to thoroughly astonish her by putting his arms around her shoulders for a quick, tight squeeze. “I’m happy for you, Winry.”

When he let her go, it was Winry’s turn to stare, her cheeks darkening a little more. At last she ducked her head and grinned.

“Thanks, Ed.”

The three continued to walk. Al looked down at Winry, and in spite of the armor’s lack of expression, he radiated a sudden mischievousness.

“You know what having Teacher for a great-aunt would do to your children, don’t you?”

“Al!” Winry exclaimed in a scandalized shriek, more red-faced than ever.

At that moment they rounded a bend in the road that was obscured by a screen of trees. The pond came into view at their right, sparkling under the sun—and the brothers and their friend halted at the sight of two familiar figures in the middle distance, sitting together on the grassy bank that led to the water’s edge.

Riza Hawkeye’s left hand lay in the hand of Roy Mustang. For a brief moment, something glinted brightly on her finger, as she leaned forward to meet him in a gentle kiss.

Al’s armor gave off the rattle of a quick, startled quiver. Winry grinned and clapped her hand over her mouth, her pinkness taking on a different hue… and Edward simply blinked and smiled.

“You think we should tell them that’s where we always used to fight when we were kids?” Al mused quietly, his impish tone returning.

Winry let out a snort and seized both brothers by the arms, pulling them away before Mustang or Hawkeye could notice them. “Don’t spoil the romance, silly.”

Although Al balkily craned his nonexistent neck, trying to catch another glimpse over his shoulder, Ed was content to walk on. The teasing he had in store for Mustang would come later—but for now, the couple deserved this moment. In their own ways, he knew they had come through just as much as he and Al had, and they would be alright.

They would all be alright.

Ed closed his eyes and smiled, raising his face to the sky, and the sun’s light was almost as warm as the warmth in his beating heart.

---

© 2011 Jordanna Morgan


Chapters: 1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: Epilogue ::