Title: Dreaming in Red and Gold
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, minor battering of female OC, female-specific slurs, off-screen torture of prisoners, suggestion of past abusive sexual encounters, sexual discussions (including consent-related)
Summary: When Drachma agrees to meet for peace talks at Briggs Fortress, General Roy Mustang is the one sent to represent Amestris. It just so happens that the Drachmans have their own Amestrisan, who is far too skilled at turning the most tedious of discussions into an exciting time.

A/N: So, a couple people asked about Blenheim, and I never actually got his reasons into the fic, though it's outlined in my notes, so... He's got two younger sisters with families of their own, and he spoils his nieces and nephews something awful. Vickers knew he'd never make it down to Central undetected on his own, so he told Blenheim he would kill his family if he didn't cooperate. And Blenheim, who knows more about Vickers than any of the rest of us, 100% believed him and knew protective custody wouldn't stop Vickers, so he came along.
Blenheim is actually not a bad guy, really, he just made some bad life choices in keeping quiet about how potentially unstable his boss is, and now he's paying for it. (Ho boy, does he ever pay for it.)

Eh, this chapter is a little shorter than the rest, but it was an excellent ending point. :P

Thanks for coming along for the ride! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as they have the rest of the fic! I'll see this fandom again once my NaNo piece is ready for posting! ;)

-0-
Chapter Eleven
-0-

As much as it infuriated Roy to admit it, Vickers was exceptional at staying undetected.

It was well after lunch before they found the stolen cart, which had been left parked down a back alley in Altheim. He must have released the horses, because they didn't manage to find either of them, and the best guess was that they'd either run past the search line, or blended in with one of the herds the teams had reported.

The search line kept moving south into Central, but they never managed to spot him. And while Vickers wasn't from Central City, he was familiar enough with it that they could assume he'd been able to go to ground relatively easily. They'd been running strict checks at all the gates since that morning, hoping to spot him before he could get into Command, but Roy, his team, and the brass all agreed that, most likely, Vickers and Blenheim would wait until the princesses were outside of Command before attacking.

"You have a couple options," Grumman offered Anastasia and Natalia when he came by Roy's office near the end of the day. "We have officer quarters on base that you're welcome to until we can flush Vickers out of his hiding place, or we can send a guard detail with you back to your lodgings for the evening."

Anastasia straightened in her seat next to Fuery at his radio equipment. "I will not continue to huddle in fear of this man, and I cannot continue to rely on those of Amestris who I know not their faces," she said coldly, before glancing at Natalia, who gave a determined nod. Anastasia looked back at Grumman. "I already know I can trust General Mustang – he has proven such against this Vickers once already – and I have knowledge of those he would say he trusts; I will accept what security he suggests, no other."

Grumman turned to Roy, while one of the members of the brass who had tagged along with the Führer let out a vaguely disbelieving sound. There was a sort of fond approval in Grumman's eyes, and Roy caught himself blinking, admittedly uncertain how to react to that from his military mentor. "It seems you're in charge, General," Grumman said, humour in his voice.

Roy inclined his head. "So it seems, sir," he agreed, before casting a glance over his team – Havoc and Breda were playing cards with Orlov and Al, while Ed watched and acted as translator and heckler; Riza, Francine, Natalia, and Falman had their heads together over a map of Drachma and a notepad covered in scribbles; and Fuery and Anastasia had the scattered pieces of a radio around them, while a garble of voices came from the headphones around both their necks – then shooting his best confident smirk at the Führer and saying, "I have all the people necessary right here, sir."

"Mustang," Lieutenant General Peabody interrupted, tone disapproving, "be serious, for once. While it's true your team is loyal to a fault, you can't honestly expect this motley crew of–"

"Motley?" Ed repeated sharply, very likely taking note of the way all of Roy's team tensed; they were used to having their abilities questioned, given Roy's promotion to general had not be a popular one among the brass, but most people weren't so crass as to actually bring it up to their faces. "Did you just–"

"Brother," Al hissed.

"That fucker just–" Ed started, with his usual disregard for decorum, and Peabody absolutely deserved it, but this was hardly the time for Ed to start a one-man war against the members of the military who didn't want Roy as the next Führer.

So Roy snapped, "Fullmetal! Stand down!"

Ed turned to glare at him. "Not my fucking title any more, bastard," he snarled.

Roy shot him a frown, then turned to Peabody, who was staring at Ed like he wasn't quite certain what to do with the knowledge that he was the former People's Alchemist. Because Ed hadn't actually been introduced to the brass when Anastasia and Natalia were, and not everyone recognised the former Fullmetal Alchemist on sight. "Lieutenant General," Roy said flatly, and Peabody stiffened, "your disapproval of my team is noted. Please get out of my office before I suggest a demonstration of exactly how capable they are is in order."

Peabody and Major General Colt both made their escape, leaving behind Grumman and Second Lieutenant Days, Grumman's secretary.

Grumman cleared his throat. "Do try to avoid any demonstrations, General," he suggested, before looking over at Ed. "Major Elric–"

"Oh, go fuck yourself," Ed muttered.

"Edward," Al stressed, while Breda and Havoc both muffled snickers.

Grumman's mouth twitched. "Perhaps a little more decorum, Major."

Ed looked straight at Grumman and flatly returned, "I didn't throw a knife at him."

Grumman coughed and raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he allowed, "I suppose that's as much of an improvement as one can honestly expect of you."

Roy had to look away, because Ed looked like he wasn't sure if he should be insulted or amused by that. "If that's all, sir?" he asked Grumman in a voice he forced to remain even.

Grumman let out a hum, then nodded. "I believe so." Then he turned a hard stare on Roy, and he felt himself stiffening in response. "Don't fuck up, Mustang."

"No, sir," Roy returned with a salute.

Grumman nodded to him, inclined his head towards the two princesses, then stepped lightly from the room, Days following without a word. (Which wasn't unusual for her, in Roy's experience.)

"I think," Anastasia said into the silence, "he does, what is your phrase? He grows on you?"

"Like a fungus," Ed muttered, then squawked as Al shoved him out of his chair. "Al!"

Roy snapped his fingers. He wasn't wearing his gloves, but it still brought every Amestrisan in the room to look at him with varying levels of trepidation. "Clean up," he ordered, and his team got to it. "Captain," he added, and Fuery looked up, his expression serious, "please remain here until we ring through with the all clear."

"Do you want me to move down to the switchboard, sir?"

Roy gave that a moment's thought, then nodded; Fuery could easily have calls routed around the switchboard – his ability to do so was what had originally caught Roy's eye back in East Command – but it was always easier to keep on top of things when you were in the middle of the action.

"Major," Roy said, turning to Falman, who straightened and saluted. "I assume you've sufficiently picked the brains of our guests for all the information on Drachma that you can feasibly gather?" he asked drily.

Natalia covered a grin, while Francine snorted.

Falman cleared his throat. "I believe so, sir."

"Good. Type up your report tonight and have it on the Führer's desk in the morning."

"Yes, sir," Falman agreed with a salute.

Roy stepped into his office and made sure the chaos of his desk was at its most organised.

"How often does that happen?" Ed asked from the doorway.

Roy glanced up at him, honestly not quite certain what he was referring to. "How often does what happen?"

"Arseholes insulting them," Ed clarified, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the main office.

Roy sighed. "I'm not popular, Ed, but there is a hierarchy that my opponents are required to observe."

"So they're easy targets."

"They're easy targets," Roy agreed quietly, "and most people aren't quite so crass as to air their insults in hearing range, but that does make it easier for me to step in." He closed his eyes. "I wish I could do so more often."

He didn't realise Ed had moved until, from just behind him, he heard the blond mutter, "Idiot," before wrapping his arms around Roy from behind.

"Yes," Roy admitted, "but you wouldn't like me if I didn't care."

"I don't like you even when you do care," Ed insisted.

Roy smiled and turned around in Ed's hold, which the blond allowed with a scowl. "Liar," he murmured before brushing a kiss against Ed's mouth. And then, "Whatever happened to distracting Riza for the day?"

Gold eyes gleamed. "Pervert."

"You're the one who started it," Roy pointed out, barely stopped himself from using Ed's title, if only because they both needed to be at their most alert when they left the building. "There I was, oh-so-innocently–"

"Liar," Ed insisted with a quiet laugh. "You haven't done an innocent thing in your life."

Roy considered that for a moment, then sighed. "Ah, the danger of being ambitious."

"And a pervert," Ed insisted.

Someone knocked on the doorframe and they both looked over to find Riza standing there, her expression flat. "We're ready to go, if you two are done."

Roy cleared his throat while Ed muffled an amused noise against his jacket. "Noted, Colonel."

She nodded and stepped out of the open doorway.

"Distracting her next time," Ed said, his eyes bright with amusement. "Got it."

Roy snorted and leant in to brush a quick kiss over his lips, which ended up being a fair bit less quick when Ed decided he wasn't going to be passive. "Gun," Roy finally managed to say, and Ed laughed.

"Shooting," he agreed as he let go and stepped back, brushing his hands down Roy's chest, as though helping to smooth away any wrinkles.

Of course, because his team lived to torment Roy, when he and Ed stepped out into the front office, Havoc called, "Getting a bit hot and heavy back there, Boss, Chief?"

Ed snorted, while Roy turned an interested look on Havoc. "What was that, Lieutenant Colonel? It sounded a little bit like you were volunteering to help reorganise the file room next week."

Havoc grimaced. "Keeping my mouth shut, sir."

Riza slid a fresh clip into place in her favourite gun and said, "Good plan." As she slipped the weapon away and Havoc gulped, she turned to Roy. "Are we ready?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Weapons check?"

"Sir!" Riza, Breda, and Havoc all called in the affirmative, while Francine gave a hard nod.

When Roy looked towards the Drachmans, he found someone had supplied Anastasia and Natalia with guns, which they both held with an obvious air of familiarity. Orlov had also been supplied with a firearm, but it was slung over his shoulder, like he didn't intend for it to be the first weapon to his hands.

Ed, he knew, was armed with his knives and martial arts, and Al had alchemy; they were as prepared as they were going to be.

"Let's head out," he ordered, and motioned Al forward. "Can you cover the rear?" he requested once he'd reached him.

Al nodded. "Yeah. My reaction to gunshots is always to form a wall; is that okay?"

"That should work fine," Roy agreed. "Focus on protecting Anya and Natalia and try to leave at least the Colonel a clear line-of-sight to wherever the shots were fired from, if at all possible."

Al looked back over where their group was forming up – the Drachmans and Ed between the four military members – then nodded. "I should be able to manage something."

"Good. Thank you, Alphonse."

Al flashed him a smile, and Roy suspected he could only see the minute signs of strain because he knew him and Ed so well. "You know me," he said, tone too-cheerful, "always getting dragged into Brother's messes and having to keep him safe."

Roy patted his shoulder. "At least this one isn't Edward's fault," he pointed out.

Al's smile eased slightly. "Miracles do happen," he quipped, before moving to take his place at the back of the group.

Roy snorted and stepped forward to lead everyone out. Most people had already left, their group having stayed a bit later than Roy and his team were used to, in hopes of Vickers getting careless and being caught, so it didn't take them long to make it through the building, across the parade grounds, and down to the street.

They made it about three blocks before that sixth sense Roy had developed in Ishval warned him about danger half a second before he heard the gunshot.

He snapped, wasn't completely certain which direction the shot had come from, other than above, so he lit the air above their heads on fire, heard the sound of a bullet exploding just as the ground rose up and curled over the party from behind, protecting everyone from shrapnel.

"Hawkeye! Havoc!" he shouted.

Riza pointed in the direction the shot had come from, and Roy snapped again, arcing a flame up towards that roof, seeking out that particular combination of elements that meant a living being, while Havoc ran towards the nearest roof access.

"Flame!" Riza snapped, just before firing a shot, and Roy chased it with an offshoot of fire.

Someone let out a shout of pain just before falling off the building, and Roy thought he heard Ed shout, "Al!"

The awning over a nearby shop stretched out and caught the falling body, depositing it lightly into the pavement just as another shot rang out from above.

Roy snapped again, raised his arm to protect his face from the bullet shards – that one had been aimed at him – while he heard Riza get off two more shots, too quick for him to redirect his alchemy after it.

Another shot from above, followed almost immediately by Havoc shouting, "Got 'im!"

Roy held still for one long heartbeat, but no more shots rang out, and he let out a slow breath. "Check on our guests," he ordered Riza, since she was right next to him, then started towards the body that Al had caught, who was letting out pathetic whimpering sounds and clutching their knee. Without the firefight going on, he recognised Gordon Blenheim, Vickers' adjunct; the man was going to have to do some seriously fast talking to get out of the boiling water he'd just fallen into.

Just before he reached Blenheim, he heard Ed shout, "Roy!" A warning, laced with terror for Roy.

He jerked his head up to find Vickers just stepping out of the alley to his left, a gun pointed at Roy's head and a mad little smile on his face.

Roy snapped and stepped quickly out of the direct path of the gun, just before he heard the hammer of the gun slam home.

The bullet grazed his temple, blooming pain, as Vickers caught fire, hot enough the heat blasted in a wave over Roy; he wouldn't be surprised to find that some of his hair had sizzled away, it wouldn't be the first time.

What was left of Vickers crumpled to the pavement, the familiar taste of burnt flesh like ash on his tongue. Off to the side, Blenheim let out a sound that might have been a gag, if it hadn't been accompanied by a sob, and Roy shot him a disgusted look.

"Roy!" he heard, and turned to find Ed running up to him, his expression caught somewhere between terror and relief.

Roy found himself reaching out a hand, drawing Ed into a hug when he took it and pressing his face into Ed's shoulder, breathing in the scent of machine oil and sweat and Ed. So far removed from the memories burnt flesh evoked, it was an honest relief.

"You idiot," Ed whispered, gripping Roy tight enough he thought it should probably hurt. And then, clearly only just seeing the blood, Ed snapped, "Fuck! Let me see your head!"

"It's fine," Roy muttered, but he obediently turned his head so Ed could get a good look, wincing when he touched the cut.

"Idiot," Ed said again, before leaning up and carefully kissing Roy's temple just in front of the wound. "Go back and get Al to fix it. Now."

Roy sighed, but pulled away to do so, motioning towards the whimpering man a couple feet away. "Blenheim," he explained. "He should only have minor wounds."

"I'll fix that if he doesn't shut the fuck up," Ed snarled, and the whimpering became notably muffled.

Roy shook his head, immediately regretted it, and decided he didn't have the necessary cognitive function to police his lover's bad mood right then, so it was best if he let Al heal him.

(What did they do with themselves before they'd figured out healing alchemy?)

Al was quick about healing him, while Riza went to keep Ed from torturing Blenheim.

"Lieutenant Colonel Havoc went after the other one, after he made double certain the roofs were otherwise clear," Al commented as he ended the alchemy. "But I thought there were only two?"

Roy gingerly prodded the wound, found it a little tender, but closed. "There was always a possibility that Vickers would pick up an extra couple people in Central," he pointed out, though it was possible Al had been distracted by alchemy reports when that idea was being tossed around. "I'm just glad it was only one extra."

"Seconded," Al agreed tiredly, before letting out a surprised noise and catching Roy's right arm.

Roy couldn't quite stop a hiss at a spark of pain, and he twisted his arm to find the blood spreading through the edge of his glove that had probably given the wound away. "Bullet shrapnel," he muttered, before clapping his hands together and using alchemy to cut off his sleeves, revealing a half-dozen pinpricks of blood. He sighed; better his arm than his face, he supposed.

"Do you want me to heal it?" Al asked, sounded rather like he already knew the answer.

The answer, of course, should have been no, because plenty of soldiers died from shrapnel that hadn't been removed, so he should go to hospital and let them get the pieces out. But either that bullet had made him crazy, or Ed was rubbing off on him, because what he ended up saying was, "Do you have something we can turn into a magnet?"

"Brother's leg?" was Al's best suggestion.

Someone snorted and Roy looked over to find Anastasia. "This will work?" she guessed, holding out her borrowed gun.

"Ah, yes," Roy agreed, accepting it and automatically dropping the clip into one hand, then clearing the chamber.

"I do not think this is medically sound," Anastasia pointed out as Roy slipped the bullets away in the pocket of his coat.

"Not even a little," he admitted, before clapping and generating a magnetic field around the gun.

Al sighed and pressed his hands together. "Right. Let me know when," he directed.

Roy snorted, then slowly started running the gun-turned-magnet along his forearm, gritting his teeth as the tiny bullet pieces forced their way back out.

Finally, after running the gun over his forearm again twice and getting nothing else, he nodded to Al, who wasted no time in healing him, muttering, "I swear, you're as careless with yourself as Brother is."

Anastasia waited until Al was done and Roy had ended the magnetic field from the gun, letting the scattering of shrapnel sprinkle to the ground at their feet, before saying, "You have impressive alchemy, Roy. I think Ed had downplayed it some to lessen nerves in the Imperial Court."

"That sounds like Brother," Al muttered.

Roy glanced towards where Ed, Riza, and Havoc were talking with a group of MPs, one of whom looked to be wrapping Blenheim's wounds, while another was seeing to the man Havoc had taken out. "Yes," he said, glancing down at the array sewn in red across the back of his glove, "Flame Alchemy is terrifying; there's a good reason I destroyed my master's research."

"Some alchemy," Al said grimly, "doesn't need to be passed on."

Roy glanced up at him, knew he meant the array for creating a Philosopher's Stone, and offered a smile that hurt. "We don't always get to decide what survives us," he pointed out, before clapping and fixing his sleeves. "I should go over there and save the MPs from Edward."

Al and Anastasia both laughed at that.

When Roy started towards Ed, Riza, and Havoc, Anastasia fell in next to him, while – he saw when he glanced back – Al re-joined Natalia, who appeared to be conversing with Orlov and Francine while Breda stood watch; even with the threat apparently dealt with, it was clear they'd be maintaining protection details for a while yet. Which was an excellent idea, but he couldn't really complain about Anastasia not having enough guards, when Roy, himself, had sent most of them off to handle other matters.

As they got within range, Anastasia let out a disgusted noise and covered her mouth and nose. "What is that smell?" she complained.

Roy glanced towards Vickers' untouched remains. "Burnt flesh." He motioned to where most of the MPs were also covering their noses. "It takes some getting used to."

She glanced at him, something sad in her eyes, before looking over where Ed, Riza, and Havoc all appeared unbothered by the smell. (Honestly, he'd have expected Ed to be making a face, but he was probably just being stubborn. Or he'd developed his own familiarity with burnt bodies during his travels, which Roy never would have wished on him.)

The group looked up as they approached and everyone but Ed saluted. "Captain," Roy said as soon as he'd spotted the highest ranked MP, "do you have any further questions for my team, or may we finish escorting our diplomats to their lodging?"

"No, sir! I'll have any further inquiry forwarded to your office."

"Thank you, Captain," Roy replied, before turning to Riza. "Colonel–"

"I'll go collect the others," she suggested, before slipping past him.

"Yes," Anastasia murmured, quiet enough that Roy suspected he was the only one to hear, "I see why it is Ed so likes her."

"Oh, good," Ed said, making a face. "We can finally get away from General Bastard's idea of art."

Havoc choked out a laugh. "Tasteless, Boss."

Ed blinked. "Actually, it's a bit acrid."

"Oh, god," Havoc complained, covering his face.

Roy reached out and caught Ed's arm, pulling him close enough that he could wrap him in a hug, which Ed wasted no time in returning. "I wonder if Colourway–" he started.

Ed huffed. "I started this, didn't I?" he complained.

"Just a bit," Havoc agreed, dropping his hand and revealing a twisted smile. "How's the head, Chief?"

"I'll survive."

"Fair enough," Havoc decided as the others reached them.

"Ed," Roy murmured.

Ed sighed and let go, then they quickly formed back up into their previous formation before continuing to Roy and his team's neighbourhood. They stopped briefly when they were flagged down by one of the local restaurant owners, who, it turned out, had been called in advance by Fuery, who had put in an order for them, so Roy wouldn't have to cook for everyone. Because he had the absolute best team.

Havoc, Breda, Riza, and Francine took their share of the food and left, and Roy left it to the Elrics and the Drachmans to sort out what was left while he rang Fuery to give him the 'all clear', and then Gracia to tell her she could let Miss Rockbell know everyone was safe and she was welcome to return to either Riza's – Riza had suggested as much as she was getting her and Francine's food – or her hotel, whichever she was more comfortable with.

And then he got the chance to eat. Which, well, the meal was a bit subdued, but it had been a stressful day.

"I vote libraries tomorrow," Ed said once he'd finished eating. "Nothing bad ever happens in the libraries."

"First Branch," Al was quick to say.

Ed huffed. "Yeah, but, by all accounts, no one was in there when the fire started, so it doesn't count." Then he looked at Roy. "Libraries. Seriously."

"You just want to see if they have any new books," Roy replied.

Ed rolled his eyes. "It's been almost seven years; I certainly hope you've got new books in since the last time I was in the library."

Al let out a snort and warned the table, "We may end up having to drag Brother out."

"I'll ask Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong to join us," Roy offered, and Al and both princesses smiled while Ed made threatening motions with one hand. Roy smiled at him until he huffed and settled down, then turned to Anastasia and Natalia. "Libraries?"

"Yes, that is fine," Anastasia agreed. Then she shot Ed an amused look. "It would be rude, I think, to not pay visit to the building I have heard so often about."

"Only, like, twice," Ed was quick to insist.

"A month," Natalia added.

"Traitor."

Roy snorted as he stood. "Help me with the dishes, Edward," he ordered.

Ed let out a disgruntled noise, but helped collect the dishes and take them into the kitchen all the same. When Roy shrugged off his jacket to roll back his sleeves, though, Ed dumped his dishes on the worktop with a clatter and caught his right arm, reminding Roy that his sleeve was still bloody. "Al said he'd had to heal your arm, too," Ed said, his expression tight, "but he didn't tell me it was this bad."

"It wasn't," Roy insisted, cupping Ed's cheek with his left hand. "It bled a fair bit, but it was minor."

Ed huffed and rolled up his sleeve for him, twisting Roy's arm so he could see, then huffing again when he couldn't spot the tiny scars. "Al's right," he muttered, "we deserve each other."

Roy leant in and brushed a kiss against Ed's mouth. "Probably," he agreed.

Ed dropped his hold on his arm so he could catch Roy, pull him back in for a hard kiss that Roy was all too happy to return.

And then, proving he had excellent – or terrible, it really depended who you asked – timing, Al called, "That doesn't sound like dishes!"

"Your brother," Roy muttered against Ed's mouth.

Ed was grinning as he pulled back. "Hawkeye's not the only one we'll have to distract?" he suggested.

Roy snorted and shook his head. "Seems so." Then he motioned with his head towards the sink. "He's right about the dishes, though. Unless you've learnt a dish washing array?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "You know, if you're afraid the water will make you useless–" he said as he rolled his own sleeves up.

"You're just going to keep kicking that horse, aren't you?" Roy complained.

Ed turned wide eyes on him. "Did you just–?!"

"Dishes, Edward," Roy reminded him, ducking past him so Ed wouldn't see the grin he couldn't quite suppress.

Ed laughed as he stepped up next to Roy and gently elbowed him. "Bastard," he complained, far too fond, and Roy gave up on hiding his amusement entirely.

-0-

The next morning, over breakfast, Anastasia admitted, "If there is not much other we might sightsee, it is maybe time we should consider returning to Drachma."

Natalia muttered something about their father, and Anastasia grimaced.

"Before Tsar Ivan sends out the search parties," Ed translated, before replying, "Just blame it on me when we get back; technically, I was the one who promised to keep you from leaving the fort."

"Hah!" Anastasia pointed at Roy. "Official offer. It would have been rude to refuse, yes? There is to be no blame."

"I'd think," Al offered politely, "that it would be a good idea for the future ruler to get a feeling for the people and the customs of their neighbours; Emperor Ling said he considers himself a far better ruler for the time he spent in Amestris."

"Ling is a fucking special case," Ed snapped. "And he was fucked in the head before he got to us, so–"

"Brother."

"Edward's issues with Xing's ruler aside," Roy said flatly, ignoring the scowl his lover shot him, "his visit did allow him and his half-sister, Princess May, to form some strong bonds with Amestris, which has opened up trade routes between our nations that the Great Desert had let little reason to pursue, previously. More than our vastly different approaches to alchemy, Emperor Ling was able to point out a number of material goods that he felt were lacking on either side, during his visit, which has proven a draw for those with little to no interest in alkahestry."

" 'Alkahestry'?" Natalia repeated.

"What they call their version of alchemy," Al explained. "Without going into too much detail–"

"Lies," Ed muttered, quiet enough that Al could pretend he hadn't heard him, if he even had.

"–they draw the energy for transmutations from a different source than we do, which allows for stronger healing alchemies and the ability to transmute over distances, which is largely impossible with the alchemy we use in Amestris. Or, I would assume, in Creta and Aerugo." He glanced at Ed.

Ed shrugged. "So far as I could tell, it's all tectonic shifts. Or the tides, if you're willing to buy into that bullshit."

Al grimaced while Roy shook his head; he trusted Ed's insistence that the Aerugonian man had been full of himself.

"Interesting," Natalia offered slowly. "There are...chan– No. Differs?"

"Differences," Ed corrected patiently.

Natalia nodded. "Spasibo. Differences. That is unknown to– No, in Drachma. Yes?" She looked towards Ed.

Ed smiled and nodded. "Da."

"We didn't know, either," Al offered, "and neither did the Xingans, from what May said. I mean, I guess those alchemists or alkahestrists who travelled between our nations in the past would have noticed, but there wasn't any scholarship on it until fairly recently. Which, well, that makes sense here in Amestris, because there was very much a 'our way is best' mentality, but I think the lack of knowledge in Xing was due more to the splits between the clans than a freeze on the information, so..." He shrugged.

"But, yeah, differences. I can probably find you some of the articles on it in one of the libraries, if you're interested in reading more about it? The general should be able to get an extension on the materials, if you wanted to take anything back with you to Drachma, so long as Brother swears to bring it back with him." He glanced at Roy.

"I don't see why not. We may even be able to let you keep a copy, if Alphonse wanted to perform a bit of illegal copying alchemy when I wasn't looking." Roy shot a pointed look between Ed and Al.

Al immediately pointed at Ed. "He created the array."

Ed pointed right back at Al. "He smuggled them out."

"Only because you made me!"

"Where else was I supposed to hide them after they caught me the first time?"

"Maybe don't do illegal things?!"

Roy covered his face while Anastasia and Natalia laughed. "I didn't actually expect confirmation," he offered into his hand a bit helplessly.

"Whoops," Ed muttered, sounding completely unapologetic.

Roy glanced at him. "Tell me you never took the originals out of the library without checking them out."

Ed glanced away.

"Lie to me," Roy suggested.

Ed flashed him a grin and very obviously lied, "I never took any original copies from the library without checking them out."

Roy sighed. "Lovely."

"I made sure he returned those," Al promised.

"That makes me feel a little better," Roy decided.

Ed shoved him. "Bastard."

"Apologies," Anastasia interrupted, looking at Al. "What you said, of a future ruler learning more of their neighbours."

Al cocked his head and, when that seemed to be all she had to say, he nodded and asked, "You're not finding it true?"

Anastasia nodded. "It is, yes. I had learnt some from Ed, but there is difference, I have found, in knowing an Amestrisan in the setting of Drachma, and knowing one in the setting of Amestris." Then she looked at Roy and asked, "You are coming to Drachma, then, yes?"

Roy blinked, while Al let out a startled laugh. "I remember you joking about that while we were at Briggs," he offered carefully, "but–"

"This is not a joke," Anastasia interrupted. "You would call it an invitation, yes?"

"Come on, bastard," Ed added, nudging Roy's shoulder. "I have got to get you to try vodka."

Roy turned to Ed and raised an eyebrow. "I've had vodka before." Because Chris had got her hands on black market shipments a fair few times over his life, and he'd mastered sneaking alcohol from her 'secret' stores long before he'd been legal.

Ed huffed. "Not in Drachma," he pointed out.

Roy rolled his eyes and looked back at Anastasia. "You understand I can't decide one way or the other without consulting Führer Grumman, first."

She sighed and nodded. "I know this, but I would set it before you; from one to-be-regent to another."

Roy couldn't quite help a smile at that. "I'll mention to the Führer that I would be willing to accompany our ambassador to Drachma, though it will have to wait for the spring, I'm afraid."

"Afraid of getting lost in a snow drift?" Ed mocked.

Roy smirked at him. "Not all of us are so short–"

"Who are you calling microscopic, you bastard?!" Ed snapped, shoving him.

Roy put on a considering look and gave Ed a very obvious look-over, pausing for an extra moment on his lap, then met his glare. "Not you," he promised.

"Oh, gross," Al complained. But, when Roy looked over at him, he found him grinning. "Go get a room."

"Fuck you, this whole house is our room," Ed retorted. "Just because we're polite enough–"

"Did you just call yourself polite?"

Roy sighed and interrupted, "No, I'm not worried about snow drifts." He held up one ungloved hand, flexing it into a fist to make the ugly scar stand out. "My mobility is pretty much shot when my hands get too cold."

Ed went very, very still for a beat, then he reached up and caught Roy's hand in both of his, pulling it against his chest, as though he thought he might need to warm it. "Fucking Bradley," he snarled.

Roy curled his fingers over Ed's hands as much as he could as he turned back to Anastasia. "Not that I have any intention to make use of my alchemy while in the Imperial City, but I believe you understand my preference to have it available to me."

Anastasia looked at him from where she'd been watching Ed, her gaze sad. "I do," she admitted. "I have known many soldiers who are brought to curl beside the fire for the winters, though they are true terrors in battle the rest of the year; Drachmans understand well that cold has a talent for bringing the greatest of warriors to their knees, though they would fight to the last not to bow to any mortal power."

Roy couldn't quite keep himself from looking at Ed, and felt better at seeing Al doing the same thing.

Ed snorted and shook his head. "I know better than to winter in Drachma."

"Ed always leaves by the start of your December," Anastasia added.

Al hummed. "Well, so, Brother can winter in Central this year, then he can act as a guide for the Amestrisan party up to the Imperial City in the spring. And then Drachma doesn't have to leave a guide at Briggs until our party is ready to go."

Ed snorted. "Assuming Tsar Ivan trusts me enough."

"I will speak with Batya," Anastasia promised.

Ed shook his head. "Whatever. I was intending to be here for Elicia's birthday, anyway; I guess I can stick around for a couple more months." As if he didn't still have a firm grip on Roy's hand.

And then Ed seemed to realise something and shot Al a sharp look. " 'Our' party, Alphonse?"

Al smiled at him. "You can't, honestly, believe I won't find a way to tag along."

Ed shot Roy a pleading look. "Stop him."

Roy raised an eyebrow in response, because Ed, of all people, should know that Roy had never had the power to stop an Elric intent on something.

"Fuck," Ed complained.

The phone rang out in the hall.

"Edward," Roy said, tugging on his trapped hand.

Ed shook his head. "Stuck. Al'll have to get it."

Al got up with an exaggerated huff and stalked from the room.

Roy didn't bother complaining mostly because Al knew how to deactivate his traps, but also because he wasn't too bothered about letting Ed continue to clutch at his hand. "I'll talk to Führer Grumman once I've returned from escorting you back to Briggs," he promised.

Anastasia smiled in understanding, while Ed let out a pleased noise. "And I will send Ed back with any stipulations from Batya. I do not suspect many–"

"Expect," Ed said, far less kindly than he had done when correcting Natalia.

"That," Anastasia agreed. "I do not expect many rules from him, but he is sometimes unreasonable." She huffed and shot Ed a sharp look, suggesting at a story that Roy wasn't sure he wanted to know. "I wonder why."

Ed responded with an obnoxious laugh.

Definitely a story, and definitely not one Roy needed to hear. "Excellent." He tugged at his hand again to catch Ed's attention. "We might want to get dressed before the others arrive."

"Oh, yeah, I suppose," Ed agreed. And, because Al was the only one – other than Orlov – who had been dressed when he came down for breakfast, they all got up and headed upstairs to change, leaving Al to let the rest of Roy's team, Francine, and Miss Rockbell in. Which he bore with a knowing smile and a shake of his head.

-0-

They did spend most of that day touring the public and military libraries, and Al and Roy only had to harass Ed twice to get him to move on.

"Is he this bad with your libraries?" Al asked Anastasia after they'd finally managed to get Ed to move along the second time.

Anastasia gave a nervous little laugh. "I had thought he could not read our language for a long time because he would always speak so of your libraries, but ours had no interest to him. When I learnt otherwise, I asked him why, and he said he snuck in to the university library once–"

"Of course he did," Roy and Al muttered in near perfect unison.

Anastasia let out a quiet cough, her eyes sparkling. "Yes. It is our greatest library, but it is not common that a foreigner is given access without joining the university, so he had snuck in. And he said to me that he was not much impressed." She let out a slightly helpless sigh. "We do not have studies in alchemy, I think, and I do not know else that would interest him so greatly."

"Most sciences," Al offered. "He hated biology when we were kids, was always happier with a chemistry book, but he'd picked it back up before he left. Said he'd learnt its worth."

"Hard facts," Roy offered, and Al nodded. "I doubt fiction would hold much attention for him."

Al laughed. "No. He used to get so crabby when Mum would try to read us fairy tales. I liked them, but Brother would always pick them apart, so Mum had to give him one of Dad's alchemy books to keep him quiet while she read to me."

"That said," Roy mused as it occurred to him, "if you know of any books – history or fiction – about the lost nation of Xerxes, that might interest him."

Al shot him a sharp look.

"Xerxes?" Anastasia repeated with an uncertain frown.

"The great nation said to have existed hundreds of years ago in the Great Desert?" Roy offered; Drachma was old enough, surely they'd have some records of the lost nation.

Anastasia's eyes lit. "Ah! Khashayar!"

"Khashayar?" Al repeated, clearly confused.

Anastasia nodded. "That is how my people came to know the name. It is said to have been a mistransliteration into our alphabet, but it was never thought to be corrected. Or, if it was, those records were lost." She shrugged. "But we did much trade with them before the desert ate them, so we have some histories from them, some of their sciences and stories; if I had known Ed was interested, I would have told him of them."

"Family interest," Al offered, before calling ahead, "Brother! Did you know Drachma had some stuff about Xerxes?"

Ed stopped in his tracks and turned wide, hungry eyes on them. "What? No. Where? I didn't see anything. And I fucking loo–" he rambled until they caught up to him and Roy covered his mouth and Ed fell into step next to him.

Anastasia was clearly delighted by this, for she was smiling widely as she said, "If you had yet asked, I would have shown you."

Al took pity on Ed and offered, "They call it by a different name. Khashayar, right?"

Anastasia nodded. "Yes." Then she looked between them while Ed mouthed the new name. "What is the name you call it by?"

"Xerxes," Al said. "One of the two survivors brought it to us with the alchemy he'd learnt there."

Ed muttered some less-than-polite comments aimed at Father in Cretan.

"Accurate," Roy returned, ignoring Al's resigned sigh. "At least you'll finally have some materials he never tainted?"

Ed leant up and kissed his cheek, catching his hand and folding their fingers together. "Thank you, my king," he murmured.

Roy couldn't help a smile at the endearment, especially given its dual relation to both his name and the position he was aiming for. He brought up their joined hands and murmured, "Anything for your smile, my sun," before kissing the back of Ed's hand, earning him a hint of pink across Ed's cheeks.

"Kill me now," Al complained, while Anastasia covered a pleased smile.

"Gladly," Ed promised, shooting his brother a glare around Anastasia. (And it was probably for the best that she was between the brothers, because Roy doubted his hold on Ed's hand would have been enough to stop a fight from breaking out.)

Al rolled his eyes. "PDA, Brother."

" 'PDA'?" Anastasia repeated uncertainly, while Ed blinked and looked around at the park Havoc and Riza had led them into as a short-cut to the last of the libraries they could conceivably allow their foreign visitors into.

"Public display of affection," Al translated.

"It is not permissible?" Anastasia asked, looking towards Ed and Roy.

Roy shrugged. "Homosexual relationships aren't what you might call common in Amestris, but there aren't any laws against it, either civilian or military, and there are certainly married couples, though very few are in the military."

Ed squeezed his hand. "You'll still get shit for this," he pointed out, but he didn't pull away.

Roy flashed him a smirk. "For dating the People's Alchemist?"

Ed groaned and rubbed at his forehead with his free hand, while Al laughed. "Fuck. I forgot about that shit."

"How could you forget?" Al asked between laughs.

"Selective memory."

"That explains so much."

Roy cleared his throat, distracting the brothers from another potential row. "I told you yesterday: I'm not popular." He stopped, using his grip on Ed's hand to bring him to stop next to him, Al and Anastasia stopping a few steps beyond them. When Ed looked back at him, Roy offered him a smile and said, "I think Amestris has had enough of her leaders hiding dirty little secrets, don't you?"

"Are you calling me so tiny–!" Ed started.

Roy pulled him forward and kissed him to shut up. He felt Ed smile against his mouth and pulled back enough to whisper, "I'm calling you exactly what you are: Red and gold; mine and perfect."

Pink bloomed over Ed's cheeks. "Ugh. Bastard," he complained, before kissing Roy hard. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Ya tebya lyublyu."

Roy smiled and promised, "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I love you, too.

OWARI

A/N: In terms of a sequel (because one out of every four reviewers is asking): I have two other EdRoy fics currently in progress, and I want to knock off at LEAST one of those, preferably both, before I start to even CONSIDER looking at the pile of research that's going to be required to write the sequel, since it's going to have to take place in Drachma and we all know I fudged half the shit in this fic. :P
So, I'm not saying 'No, absolutely not, never ever', mostly because my muse always makes me eat those promises, but I am saying, don't expect it any time soon.

..