Alphonse Elric is (not_fullmetal) wrote in elsewhere_rpg, @ 2017-12-05 11:26:00 |
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The other day, Alphonse had given Ed two photos he’d brought from home with him. One of his mother and the two brothers, and one of just his mother and himself, when he’d gotten his promotion to Colonel. Ed had very nearly cried. Al had a sinking feeling he might get the same reaction from Roy. So he’d shown up on his doorstep just before dinner, he’d waited for Riza to head off to work, then he’d gone up to knock on the door and had stepped back to wait. He was in his uniform, he looked presentable, and he had lifted his chin just so to look a bit taller. He was very nearly Roy’s height. “Good evening, sir.” He snapped out a salute that Riza would have been proud of and waited to receive some sort of indication to fall at ease before relaxing enough to smile. And surely, he’d be invited in. Once he was, he stepped inside and smoothed a hand down over his chest, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. “Do you want some tea?” He’d make it, of course. As if Roy could make decent tea... Hah. *** If Riza thought she'd be able to work immediately after her return, she was wrong. Roy was too needy for her to be gone for long hours. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. He was loath to be out of the same room. But he didn't say any of it. Of course he didn't. He was Roy Mustang and he only voiced his disapproval or desires if they were meaningless. When someone knocked on the door, Roy eyed it skeptically for several seconds before he bothered opening it. Colonel Alphonse Elric. Roy almost slumped. Something about interacting with the Elrics was exhausting. But he inclined his head in acknowledgment, then let the young man inside the room. “At ease,” he told him as he pivoted on point and sank down onto a chair, arms folded across his chest. “Sure,” he agreed. He'd been very agreeable as of late. Whatever they wanted. *** Roy Mustang was falling apart. It wasn’t hard to see. All the same, Alphonse had brought the photos for him, he would be giving them over. He remained standing, though. It had become painfully clear this wasn’t his Roy, so there’d be no more familiarity. He’d be the soldier he should. “It’ll be just a moment, sir.” He passed by the man in the chair and headed for the small make-shift kitchen. The room had no kitchen, of course, but Riza had ensured they could make tea in their room. Everything was ready, so she could make tea and coffee for her General. She had made her apologies before she left for work, dressed to entice men, but wrapped in his coat to cover her up on her way there. As much as she’d wanted to stay, they had no money anymore-- she’d been gone too long and they needed the money, or they’d have no place to live. They needed to find a new home, but she also hadn’t had time to do that. She wanted to kick Roy’s ass into gear, but hadn’t had the heart to do it tonight. Tomorrow, she’d told herself. When he didn’t have that look in his eye. With the tea made, Alphonse was bringing a cup out for the General and offering it out to him, saucer and all (as Riza had taught him), then straightened and waited for him to sip it and approve. He made it exactly the same as Hawkeye-- no one had ever been able to manage that before. It was just like hers. He, of course, didn’t have one for himself and didn't sit. “Is it to your liking, General?” His hands clasped behind his back. *** Roy Mustang had never been put together. He was, as Marco had said, only masquerading as a person. That had been the case for the better part of a decade. Alphonse was only able to see through the cracks of who he pretended to be. He picked at his nails casually while Alphonse putzed around making tea, only looking up and making noises when the young man returned with saucer in hand. Roy accepted it from him, took a sip in test and nodded his approval. It wasn’t Hawkeye’s. Okay, it tasted just like when she made it. Uncanny, that. But it always tasted better when she made it.. Because she made it. It was a real distinction, alright? Either way, Roy approved of the tea. He sat back, tea in hand, and concentrated on that for a moment, looking strangely content. His people had come back. He’d finally been able to breathe. Everyone affected by the absence of Hawkeye, North, and Texas would be alright now. Opening his dark eyes, the General looked at the young man standing in front of him like a good little soldier. He wasn’t so little anymore, being of similar height as Roy himself. But the point remained. “What do you want, Alphonse?” Neither one of the Elrics showed up unless they wanted or needed something from him. *** “I brought something from home for you, sir. I’ve kept them with me in the chance I might return here.” Unclasping his hands, he pulled his wallet out and removed a few photos, one by one. Then he put his wallet away and bent, leaning to hold them out to the General-- in a bow. It was a respectful thing, his head turned down, bent at the waist, with his hand and offering extended out. “I thought you might like them.” Once taken, he’d retract his hand, but remain bowed over. In the stack were a few photographs, the first of a young and happy Roy and Maes, the second of a slightly more serious Roy (actually, he looked annoyed) and Hughes, the third of the Hughes family, and a final one of the wife and child he’d left behind. He straightened back up after a moment. “Elicia is beautiful, sir.” And she spent a lot of time with Roy, Riza, and Alphonse. Roy was her Godfather, after all. She had her father’s smile. *** Who was this boy? Alphonse never ceased to surprise Roy. Every time he interacted with him, the younger Elric brother did something that made the General pause and reconsider all the assumptions he’d developed about him. He was reminded, again, that he liked and was quite proud of this iteration of Alphonse. He was someone that had, evidently, decided he’d respect the boundary Roy wanted between them, but still operated within it to his own personal standards. That was the reason he could bow and still hand Roy photos of a life he’d left behind. Roy took them from him with one hand, reaching the other out to slide the cup of tea across the rickety table where he did his research, his eyes darting back to the precious material in his hands. He looked at them one by one and each was a sharp stab in an already injured heart. He’d been missing Hughes so much these last few weeks. Why had his friend left him.. Oh god, Elicia was beautiful. She looked like her parents both. And Gracia.. She was still the only person in the world who understood what Roy felt when Maes had died, who missed him just as much as Mustang did. Thin fingers touched the happy, laughing faces on the family photo. They were the only family he’d ever had. Maes his only friend. And they were lost to him now. Roy looked up, looking vulnerable, but there were no tears in his eyes. It was almost worse. “Thank you for bringing them to me,” His family. “I miss him so damned much.” *** “Yes, sir.” He knew that Roy missed him. Mustang and Gracia often spent time alone together, just talking, watching Elicia play in the park. Roy had taken it upon himself to ensure she was protected. Sometimes Alphonse would play with her in the park and Roy and Gracia would watch them together. When Al was around, he was the unofficial babysitter. When he wasn’t? Roy got the job (though, it was always Roy and Riza, because let’s face it, someone had to supervise the two children!). It was relatively obvious Alphonse missed Hughes, too-- but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. He wasn’t anywhere near as good at pretending as Roy was, and no one was upset about that fact. No one wanted him to change who he was. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, General.” Another salute snapped out. “If you need anything, sir..” He knew he just had to ask. *** If Roy needed anything. Yeah, sure. Just ask. He never did, he never would. Though, part of him was sure that he could rely on Alphonse Elric if he needed to. The boy had surprised him more than once in the last six months. He’d grown up almost literally overnight. He was strong and capable, and he wouldn’t fall apart at the first hint of stress. It was relieving to know that. Alphonse would be alright even in the moments when Roy wasn’t. One less person to worry about. One more person to lean on when he needed to get things done. A small smile crossed Mustang’s face, then he sorted through the photos and kept the one of the Hughes family--looking down at their happy faces and remembering as they were before they knew what was coming. The others he offered back to Alphonse. “You keep these for me,” he said. “Maes would call me a selfish asshole if I kept all of them. He’d want to know why I didn’t have more of Elicia though.” Roy laughed a little. That idiot. *** “I brought them for you, sir. I have my own.” He dropped his salute and laughed softly, shrugging up a shoulder. “He did always have you pegged for what you were, didn’t he?” Yeah, Al was calling him a selfish asshole without actually saying it. A light jab. It was pretty obvious he’d filled that place Hughes had left behind. He kept his own Roy human. “Do you expect Marco any time soon, sir?” He wasn’t sure Roy should be alone, but he was pretty sure Roy didn’t want him here. He’d realized Roy only liked him in small doses, and that was fine. *** Roy chuckled again, his expression softening, the vulnerable look in his eyes easing as did the sharp pain in his chest. Roy Mustang was an idiot and about as selfish as they came. What a strange thing for a man who gave so much to be. But Roy was a combination of contradictions, he always had been. “Right from the start, Alphonse,” Roy agreed. “He always said I was either exceptionally charming or an alienating asshole. I have a reputation to keep.” He smiled more easily this time, taking the collection of photos and tucking them in the inside pocket of his coat, closest to his heart. “No,” he said, in reply to expecting Marco. Marco had pissed off the moment Hawkeye had come home, thinking she and Roy needed time alone. Except then Hawkeye had gone, too. And now Roy was by himself. Why did his people always leave him when he needed them most? “I’ll be alright, Colonel,” Roy said. He always was. “Thank you for coming.” For caring enough to come. For caring enough to bring photos when he didn’t have to. The stupid idiot. Roy loved him, too. *** Alphonse, though, lingered. After a few seconds, he shifted his stance a little, relaxing just some. He would never relax enough to remind anyone of the child he’d been years ago, but just enough to show he wasn’t on edge. “Would you like see Mei Chang? I intend to make her my wife.” He was once again reaching for his wallet and coming a step forward. He pulled out the photograph, worn and well-loved, offering it out to him. Her neat writing (in Xingese, of course) was dutifully and carefully laid out across the bottom. She, like he, had grown up. She sent him photos whenever she could and he did the same. So they wouldn’t forget one another when kept apart. She often sent him favors as well, which he kept with him. They’d lost her smell, but they were still hers. “She’s a year my junior. And a Princess of Xing. The Emperor, Ling, is my very dear friend and we have plans to establish a peace and trade between our two nations.” A marriage would help with that. *** Roy’s eyes darted up again. His wife? Alphonse was entirely too young to get married. But Roy didn’t say it. He wouldn’t invalidate the kid’s feelings on the matter. Trust that he understood what that was like. He knew from experience. So he didn’t say anything, just nodded and leaned forward when Alphonse stepped in, taking the wallet to look at the photo of a stunningly beautiful woman. She had dark hair, lighter skin than Roy, and beautiful eyes. She was the epitome of what a princess of Xing should be. Careful, Al, she was Roy’s type too. He went for brunettes because a particular blonde had ruined the rest for him, after all. Another smile spread across Roy’s face and he whistled, “Damn,” he said, “Nice catch,” he teased him. “She’s beautiful, Al, congratulations.” An impending marriage. Christ. The kid really had grown up. *** “Thank you, sir.” He took the wallet back and smiled down at the photo, staring for a few seconds before he tucked it away. “I haven’t asked her yet. I’m not worthy-- but I will be, some day.” When he was higher ranking. When he was a General, or the Fuhrer. Then he could ask her. Then he could be worthy of begging a Princess for her hand in marriage. Of course, it had been Mei Chang, years ago, who had told Alphonse that they would be wed. He’d turned red and had run away, but she’d known. She’d been persistent and she’d won him over, and now he was as deeply in love with her as she was with him. And she’d grown into such a lovely woman. “She’s warned me that she wants five children. Five, sir.” He chuckled softly. “I sleep as much as I can these days, I know I won’t be sleeping in the future.” With five children, who would!? *** Not worthy. That was bullshit politics there, the kind of thing Roy too wanted to change in the future. But he saw the connection. Alphonse marrying a princess from Xing, if he were high ranking enough, would be a good bridge between nations. It would put all kinds of stress on their marriage though. It would test them as every inch of their lives were scrutinized and made public. Could Alphonse survive that? Could his wife? Roy often found himself questioning the choices of his alternative self. What were you doing, Roy Mustang? What were you doing with this boy and why did you make Roy want to punch you in the nose so much? Couldn’t you just leave Al be. Roy sighed to himself, but he maintained the smile, his eyes glittering. “Kids, eh?” he asked. “You ever been in a room with more than one girl at a time? That’s the rest of your life with five children.” Loud, complicated, and full of politics only they understood. But children and marriage would suit Alphonse Elric. He’d be happy with a family like that. Roy wanted it for him. “Just remember that she’s always right, kid,” he said, winking. “Life is a lot happier that way.” *** “Yes, sir. Often.” His cheeks flushed up immediately. It wasn’t hard to believe that Roy Mustang had thrown him to the wolves quickly once he’d turned seventeen and cut his hair, changed from a boy into a man-- once he’d proven himself in that fire, he’d become a sensation nearly overnight and had been thrust rather violently into the spotlight. Mustang had jumped on that bandwagon and once Alphonse had his new legs and a haircut, he’d been tossed in at every ball, at every public event, and it’d been made quite public that he was young, handsome, available, and going places. Every father and mother for miles had dragged their daughters out to present them wherever Alphonse was making a public appearance. Roy had taken some sort of sadistic glee in torturing Al this way, especially knowing how he felt for Mei Chang. Of course, it was also a subtle way of testing the boy’s resolve. Would he give in to temptation or remain on his path? Remain loyal to a young woman he’d been told he couldn’t have, to a future he’d been told would be impossible to obtain, and a relationship he’d been kept from by the distance of two countries. It’d been a year and a half and no amount of temptation had even turned his eye. Roy Mustang was convinced whole-heartedly that his young Alphonse was the right choice. That he’d made the right decision in picking him. “It can be quite chaotic, but I’m certain a wife and a family will suit me just fine. And I’m well aware of the fact she’s always right. She’s smarter and stronger than I am.” Laughing, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “She always has been. She knew I was hers long before I did.” Imagine that, a strong woman who had staked her claim on a boy older than her, years ago. And now she had him. That was the sort of woman a man in a position of power needed. A strong, capable one. They could handle anything the world threw at them. *** Al blushed which made Roy laugh, genuinely. He could imagine it. It was perfect. This young, awkward, inexperienced young man left to the charms and wiles of women with far more experience and interest in him than he could comprehend. Alphonse had somehow survived it, but the scenes Roy suddenly imagined were hilarious. What else could make Al blush so furiously? He had to have embarrassed the shit out of himself more than once. Holy shit. Oh, god, sometimes the best things in life were the totally humiliating moments in your friend’s life. Roy was glad that his other self had found a friend in Alphonse. His other self needed it. His current self did, too. They had it in small doses. It worked best that way. Roy tilted his head a little, nodding at Al. He wasn’t going to give him relationship advice when his own was.. Well, non-existent. But relationships--oddly, Roy had said this to York a damned long time ago--were about compromise from both sides. He’d told York that he and Hawkeye weren’t good at compromising. They sacrificed instead. But Al would figure his shit out. He’d been baptized in peace and made stronger before being thrown into the fire. He’d be alright. Roy watched him fondly for just a moment. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “You’re doing well.” From a man who rarely gave compliments. *** That was high praise from this Roy Mustang and Al knew it. He gave another bow, holding it for a few seconds before straightening. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He gave another crisp salute, then nodded once. “I’m expected at the hospital, Levi and I are relieving York for the evening.” The man needed to go home and get some rest-- North was there and the medic hadn’t been able to see him yet. He’d been far too busy. “May I come by and see you again in a few days?” Best to ask permission. If Roy didn’t want him, he wouldn’t force himself upon the General. *** Roy rose when Al bowed, finding it no issue to stand and return the salute out of sheer respect. Sometimes he wanted to strangle the little fuck, but when it came to the heart of heart’s, Roy did love and respect the kid. He’d found his convictions and he stood by them. That was something Roy would always respond well to. Al believed in something and he’d fight with every breath he had to see it through. Roy would salute that until the day he died. “Yeah,” he said, “Marco’s working on a project, if he’s here he could use a fresh pair of eyes on it. I’m just aggravating him.” He smiled again, just fleetingly. But he looked happy anyway. “Have a good night, Colonel,” The General said, pulling on one of his white gloves as he turned to pick up his cup of tea. Rolling his fingers, he reheated the fragrant liquid, looking content and far more at peace than he’d been when Alphonse had first come in. *** The look in Al’s eyes when the snap of fire came to life was impossible to miss, and impossible to mistake for anything other than apprehension. It was a strange twist in his stomach, the feeling that was brought about by seeing Roy bring a spark to life by those gloves. Knowing he himself could do much the same thing, though he couldn’t control his own-- and Roy couldn’t create his own. Roy had yet to use Alphonse’s blue fire, but the day would come, Al was sure of it, when he’d have to. His blue fire wasn’t only hotter, but toxic. If the flames didn’t get you, the fumes would. It would be a terrifying force if ever unleashed. Hopefully it would only ever be unleashed upon those who threatened their lives-- Alphonse wouldn’t give it up any other way. “Yes, sir. Thank you. Good evening.” His eyes lingered on the cup a moment longer, then he nodded and turned for the door. *** That was an odd look in the young man’s eyes. Roy paused and watched him but said nothing as Alphonse turned away. Weird, but not something the General wanted to question just yet. Maybe he’d misinterpreted what he’d seen, or it was triggering a reaction as Alphonse remembered that Roy Mustang had once burned alive the remnants of his brother’s corpse. Roy couldn’t say, so he didn’t. He just stood back and watched Alphonse leave, quietly bringing his reheated tea up for a drink. That was tomorrow’s problem, Roy decided. Tonight he was going to make himself Hawkeye’s problem. If she didn’t want to be at home with him, then he’d go out and be there with her. Stepping lightly after Alphonse, Roy watched the boy all the way into the hallway before he finally closed the door behind him. |