A/N: My first foray into FMA fanfiction. I hope it goes well.
Disclaimer: Lol. I totally love all her stuff though.
Her place was at the young lord's side, not in his bed. This Lan Fan and the young lord had been taught since she first took up her duties as his retainer. They had been mere children at the time, barely able to understand what Fu had been so sternly, and with no little embarrassment, trying to convey. The solemnity of the conversation ruined by Fu's red face, Ling Yao's innocent mockery and Lan Fan's horror that when she got older she would have to allow, or in this case, prevent some man from doing that to her. It was not until Amestris that they truly came to appreciate what the old man had been trying to tell them, and by then it was too late.
In the months and years since their triumphant return to Xing and the young lord's ascension, Lan Fan had found it easy to avoid the issue. First there was the matter of getting her grandfather buried at their tiny family plot in the Yao lands. And it had to be dealt with first for the young lord had insisted that nothing else was more important than fulfilling their obligations to the man that had brought them to this point.
Us, he had said, not me.
Lan Fan convinced herself, too, that the young lord was also assured that he had the throne as no one else would have been able to get their hands on a real philosopher's stone even if they had somehow managed to discover what one was in the first place. It was so kind of him, but the young lord had always been kind person and that was why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place. His kindness and his ambition and confidence made him so much more attractive than any man in the empire. But…
"Your place is at the young lord's side, not in his bed, Lan Fan."
The young lord, with his old man's gaze and mischievous precociousness had teased, "But if she is to protect me, wouldn't it be good that she also be in my bed?"
"Young Lord, that is not what I meant and you know it, you naughty boy!" her grandfather had scolded.
The memory of bruised shins still fresh, Lan Fan had protested then, "I won't sleep with him, Grandfather! Ling—I mean, Young Master kicks in his sleep!"
When the funeral was done they made their way to the capital to present His Celestial Majesty with the philosopher's stone, they had both been too busy to think of anything else. Even with all the resources of the wealthy Yao Clan and the secret support of the impoverished Chang, it had been a dangerous time during which neither got any real sleep. So close to the young lord's goal, they were paranoid, anxious and impatient. Long hours were spent keeping note of the movements of the young lord's siblings and the emperor's health, which deteriorated by the hour. Lan Fan struck fear in the hearts of many of the staff of the imperial palace as she chased phantom assassins and their very real poisons and blades. And then there was the matter of the stone and dealing with its presentation to the emperor.
From the Crimson Alchemist they knew that it was possible to take in a philosopher's stone without gaining immortality, but rather an amplification of one's alchemy or here, alkahestry. There would be no saving the emperor, his death was assured. But no one, not even the emperor's son would tell him that, and if they wanted to live they had to find a way to get him to understand that. The terror of this kept Lan Fan wide awake on the nights it did not give her nightmares, an endless stream of the brutal ways the young lord would meet his end for disappointing his father's goal. And so, that was how he managed to get past her defences.
The night before the young lord was to present himself to His Celestial Father, he summoned Lan Fan to his chambers and told her that while he had a plan there was no guarantee it would work out. In fact, it was quite likely that he would be killed for his insolence and if that was the case then he intended to die without regrets. Then he grasped her by the arm and kissed her. Lan Fan told herself later that it was only because she was already so tired that she kissed him back.
She woke the next morning to gentle warmth of sunlight tracing the outline of the eaves against her bare skin and the news that the young lord had left hours before. He had also taken the liberty of removing her automail arm and uniform and placing her under armed guard with strict instructions to not let her out of the room on pain of death. But…
"Your place is at the young lord's side, not in his bed, Lan Fan."
It took her no less than twenty minutes to be free of the guards and out of the young lord's room, racing over the rooftops in liberated armour and her underwear. She had already decided that she would find more appropriate garments once she was closer to the palace. Of course, sneaking into the imperial palace would be near impossible, or at least should be so that Lan Fan would blame her attempts to come up with a plan for this for not noticing the young lord's approach until it was too late. He simply seemed to appear before her, bringing her to an abrupt halt before he snatched her about the waist and dragged her off the rooftop with him to the garden below.
Her astonishment at his speed was momentarily overwhelmed with the joy of seeing him alive and well, and yes, adorned in the formal robes of the Imperial Crown Prince of Xing, Heir to the Throne. And then he distracted her from that altogether by kissing her so passionately her entire body ached for wanting him.
But no. Lan Fan had rested, and she blushed at the thought of how he'd gotten to her to, and so was once again in full command of her faculties so that she pushed him away. There were more important things to worry about now that the young lord was going to be emperor and first of all was remembering that she was a servant and not a member of his seraglio.
The young lord, to his credit, did not need to be told why she had withdrawn. He did not even look that surprised. Instead he smiled, and took hold of the hand on his chest, kissed each one of her fingers and said, "Not yet, but soon."
In the first years of the reign of His Celestial Majesty, Emperor Yao the empire of Xing was in uproar. Not only did the new young emperor not follow-up his ascension with the slaughter of those siblings that had been his most dangerous opponents, but he also announced that he was looking into trade with country beyond the sand, Amestris. That of course meant weeks and months of feasibility studies and surveys and appeals to the clans whose lands the railway would have to pass through. This last part was thought to be the simplest, especially given the tradition of the Xingese emperors to simply marry the daughters of every clan and thus have their loyalty by right. Then Emperor Yao announced that he was too young to get married, that he was too busy to give his new wife the attention she deserved, especially since he was working on making Xing greater than it had ever been, and that he would be a poor husband given the example of his predecessor. Who wanted to marry a man with forty-nine other wives anyway? The loudest gasp of shock had come from the masked warrior behind his throne.
The emperor had a plan though, one which he implemented immediately. Instead of marrying into the clans that he wanted, he gave them priority option in building the railway and controlling shares in its management. All he asked in return was a minor share in the profits as tax. It was a while before he was asked again about marriage.
During this time, he took care to respect Lan Fan's refusal. The night before his presentation to the late emperor was never brought up. There were also no romantic gestures, no subtle hints or blatant ploys for her attention. They simply carried on as they had before, even if sometimes Lan Fan found herself wanting him so desperately that she had to run away from the palace entirely to avoid him. But…
"Your place is at the young lord's side, not in his bed, Lan Fan."
"But…"
Then came the day when the emperor announced to Lan Fan, "I have decided that I'm getting married soon. I want you to take charge of the preparations for the new empress. Protect her as you would protect me, but give her freedom. She must be able to wander throughout these walls, and even outside as if she had not a care in the world."
Lan Fan praised herself for covering her shock so well that her voice did not even tremble as she replied, "Yes, my Lord."
She set about her task with the professionalism and dedication expected of Emperor Yao's personal retainer. Guards were interviewed and sent to be trained. Accommodations were prepared, an entire wing had to be renovated, and staff selected. And Lan Fan daily reminded herself, repeating her grandfather's words like a mantra, that this was how it was supposed to be.
The emperor never involved himself in the preparations. He never spoke of the lady he had selected or her clan, so Lan Fan found herself with the unusual circumstance of having to make judgements on her own in matters that previously were none of her concern. Bodyguards didn't have to know what colour or type of fabric would suit a lady's chambers, how many maids she would require or what entertainment would keep her happy while she waited to bear the heir to the throne. Bodyguards needed to know how many people were around their charge and what duties they performed and who they in turn interacted with. Bodyguards needed to know what areas of a room would be a weak-spot that could be exploited by an assassin and be sure that their aim was true. Bodyguards needed to be ever at their charges' sides and not in their beds no matter how much both of them wanted otherwise. But Lan Fan would do her duty to her lord and so was able to inform him some two months later that all was in readiness for the new lady, whoever she were to be and would the young lord like to inspect it.
She was then floored when he said, "I'm sure whatever you chose is fine, would you like to spar with me? It's been so long since we were each other's opponents."
Lan Fan would never be able to believe the lie that she was not immediately infuriated by the flippancy of His Majesty's response. She was a servant and she had done as she had been commanded and that was enough. She did not need praise and she should be honoured that he trusted her judgement so much that he could respond like so. But she was and so she replied, "Yes, my lord, it has been so long."
Emperor Yao's personal chambers included a dojo where he toned a physique that always surprised assassins and inflamed the jealousy of the officials and nobility around him. He could charm their wives and daughters out of their clothes if he wanted to, though he never seemed to follow these flirtations any further than getting them to hide their blushes behind their fans. Supposedly the emperor's predecessor had used this room for favoured women of his harem and new wives and the last time Lan Fan had seen it the room was a lurid scarlet and gold, adorned with mirrors and paintings that had left her as red-faced as the walls. Now it was all dark wood and painted screen doors. A few of the original mirrors remained, but the paintings had been replaced with weapon racks and targets. Emperor Yao had eliminated almost every trace of the old room so completely that for a moment Lan Fan did not recognise it for what it was. Thankfully, in a touch of cheek, the emperor had left intact the original entrance via a statue of a potbellied monk whose exposed member one would have to pull.
As soon as the doors had closed behind them, the emperor went to the centre of the room and with his back to her, tossed off his heavy imperial robes until he was left in hakama, boots and curved blade. Lan Fan removed only her hood and mask and drew out her kunai. Then the emperor turned to face her, made to take his first stance and then stopped to stare at her.
When the staring went on for a little too long, so that Lan Fan's face was flushed bright pink, she finally asked, "M-my Lord?"
He replied, "My god, you're beautiful."
Lan Fan felt her whole body heat up, unable to stop the now-crimson flush to spread, and so kept her gaze to the floor. She would blame that for keeping her from noticing the emperor's movements until she was felt her hair fall down her shoulders and realised that he was behind her. She swung round with her kunai raised. He knocked it from her hand and dragged her to him, trapping one hand behind her back and the automail arm up over her head. Then he said, "No, look at me."
Lan Fan began to stammer, very aware of every inch of him and the memory of it from that night all those years ago. "M-my Lord, y-you are en-engaged. W-what of your f-fiancée?"
"Look at me, Lan Fan," he repeated.
If she was not worried about hurting him she was sure that she would have deployed the blade in the elbow of her automail arm. Instead she did as she was commanded and looked up into his dark gaze. What she saw there, the determination, the confidence, the power and oh-heaven-help-her the want and desire and need, made her gasp in surprise and he took advantage of that to kiss her. It was hot and deep and full of so many different emotions, jumbled together and overwhelming in their contest to be the strongest. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. He was not going to let her go. He was not going to take "no" for an answer. He was tired of looking at her from afar. He would be damned before he let another man have her. He would not share her with anyone else. She was his and his alone and he would make her fat with his children and no other woman and there would be no wars over who would sit on the throne after him because he was determined that that child would be theirs.
The need for air made her pull away for breath. Shock had her staring at him wide-eyed. His expression changed only slightly, desperation and fear of rejection seeping into the cracks of his confident façade. But… But… But her grandfather had said, "Your place is at the young lord's side, not in his bed, Lan Fan."
If she was his wife she could not be with him every second of the day. It had been difficult enough when she'd been forced away from him, at his command, to prepare for his "empress". Now he was asking her to separate herself from him again. She could not do it. She would not do it. This was not going to work.
As if sensing her thoughts he released his hold on her arms and let her free. She took a hesitant step back, but when he leaned in again she went to him willingly and let him tell her through his kiss what he felt.
He was empty without her. He needed her to be whole and sane and stay true to the course for even though he had promised her, his siblings sometimes were asking to be murdered in their beds. He was lonely. Even though she was at his side every day as his guard there were times when he needed more than a shadow and blade. Most days now he wanted her as a companion, as someone to turn to when his thoughts got muddled or he needed a fresh perspective or he needed a distraction. He wanted her as a person, for more than her loyalty and her dedication but her love and devotion as he was already in love with and devoted to her. For her he would give up all of Xing, even if she would hate him for it because there would be no Xing without her. A king is nothing without his people for what would he be without them than a madman in the streets.
She broke the kiss again and turned her back to him. She refused to look at their reflection in the mirrors around them. She did not want to see the worry on his face. She did not want him to see the joy seeping into hers. When she could take it no more she turned around and kissed him.
There was more than one way to stand at his side.