Title: The Man She Admires

Author: S J Smith

Rating: K+

Warnings: Future!Fic; Manga-verse.

Summary/Teaser: There once was a girl who lived a perfect life, with a father and a mother, in a big house in a nice city. But when the girl was very young, her father went away and didn't come back.

A.N.: Thanks to D. M. Evans for the first readthrough of this.

Disclaimer: I promise to put the toys back in the box when I finish playing with them.

Written for the Live Journal community, fmagiftexchange, for the prompt: Character(s)/Pairing(s): Roy and Elycia; Prompt: Talking about past and revenge.

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There once was a girl who lived a perfect life, with a father and a mother, in a big house in a nice city. But when the girl was very young, her father went away and didn't come back. They said he died serving his country. She wasn't sure, but she thought that was a lie.

She wondered how many other lies were told about her father.

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Her father had a friend, a man she admired. He was a military man, like her dad had been, up until the time of his death. In the albums, there was a collection of photos with this man in various stages of his life. They were all old – fifteen years; older. Old enough the glossy paper the pictures were printed on had yellowed. Some had darkened, even, so it was hard to see the subject. Some were of such peculiar subject matter, she wondered what had prompted her father to take the shot. One photo was of her father and this man, standing together. Her father grinned slyly. His friend scowled. That photo was in a frame on the hall table.

There was another photo of them together, buried in one of the books, with rifles slung over their shoulders and stupid smiles on their faces. On the back of that photo, her father's slanting hand had written, Roy-Boy and me; Longest Night. Drunk as lords. We're lucky she didn't just shoot us.

When she'd read that legend, she'd wondered who the shooting woman might be.

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There are other pictures of her father, but only a few. Her mother explains, "Daddy liked taking pictures of you. That's why he's never in any."

She's not sure that's a good answer but she can't argue. How else could there be so many photographs of her?

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The man seemed different than the yellowed photographs in her father's old albums; more careworn but also happier. Lighter. His eyes warmed at the sight of her and Elicia found herself smiling back.

"Uncle Roy!"

His hug was affectionate and if Elicia held on a little longer than expected, maybe it was because she missed this type of embrace, growing up without a father. Still, she pulled away, allowing Roy Mustang, one-time Fuhrer of Amestris, to lead her into a den.

The den was nothing like the rooms her friends' fathers had, not full of stuffed, dark furniture and books no one would want to read. This one was done in rich shades of reds and golds, with black lacquered furniture intricately carved and layered with embroidered silk pillows. A low table carried a steaming teapot with two cups, appearing as delicate as egg shells, and a platter of biscuits, scones and cookies. The scent from the tea perfumed the room, making Elicia think of cherries and mint, and Roy seated her before busying himself pouring the tea.

Elicia took the time to review the room, one she'd seen only rarely in the past few years. A new photo sat on a desk, one of her mother and her, and a painting hung on the wall, the like of which Elicia had never seen. Dark swirls seemed to threaten a brilliant speck of gold, though that gold illuminated the entire work.

"Alphonse Elric painted that." Roy handed her a cup. "It's evocative, isn't it?"

"Scary, more like." Elicia knew of Alphonse Elric and his even more famous brother, Edward. She personally knew Edward's wife, Winry, better than either of the brothers. Still, her mother was fond of all of them and, of course, being able to say the Fullmetal Alchemist had worked with her father had given her some status as a child.

"Mm." Sampling his tea, Roy placed the tiny cup back into its saucer. "That was a scary time."

"Was that the fight under Central?" The question seemed innocuous but Elicia realized her hands were trembling. Afraid she'd break the cup, she set it down, the 'click' loud in her ears. She hoped she didn't chip the rim.

Roy turned to her, his expression giving nothing away. "Is that what you came to talk to me about?"

"I…I want to talk to you about who killed my father." There. The words were out, hanging between them in the air. Roy's face didn't waver though his eyes sparked and darkened. "Uncle Roy, I'm sixteen. I'm not much younger than the Elrics when they fought beside you. I deserve to know!"

He took a breath and let it out, turning his attention back to the tea service. "Would you like a scone? They're freshly made. There's a baker around the corner; neither Riza nor I have much time for baking, but we both love our sweets. There's clotted cream and butter, too." He waved his hand, a faint, old scar showing on the back of it.

Her mother did the same thing, try to change the subject like this. Still, Elicia was patient and, having dealt with her mother and Miss Winry in the past when the subject of her father came up, she accepted the offered treat. Sometimes, adults needed time to adjust their thinking. Sometimes, they wanted time to think of an out. Elicia knew she could worm out the answer from Uncle Roy. Her mother had often said she was as snoopy as her father had been, though Elicia wasn't sure if that could be considered a compliment or not. "Thank you, Uncle Roy."

He nodded his appreciation at her thanks, picking up a thick cookie for himself and biting into it only to lay it on the saucer a few seconds later. "I suppose I should have known you would come to me eventually, but I never thought it would be this soon."

Elicia refrained from reminding him she was sixteen again, though it was hard.

"I still think of you as that little girl in Maes's pictures." Roy shook his head, a bittersweet smile gracing his mouth. "He adored you. I'm sure your mother's told you that before, but it was so true."

"She has." Elicia decided she could pick up her teacup without breaking it again. "I can just barely remember how his whiskers used to scratch my face when he'd hug me." She sipped the tea, which reminded her of potpourri. "I miss him, Uncle Roy."

"You're not the only one, Elicia." Roy sighed, lacing his fingers together, his hands dangling between his knees. "Your father was a singular man, like no one I've ever met before. He cared a lot; possibly too much; and he was nosy. As far as we can tell, the nosiness was what got him killed." He raised his head, fixing her with his gaze. It seemed to pin her in place, like those throwing knives her mother said her father carried and used. "Elicia, there are things not written in the history books, because a lot of people wouldn't believe them. If you tried to repeat this story, there are very few people who would believe you. But you're right, you're old enough to know the truth about who killed your father."

The story he told her that afternoon was nothing Elicia expected, sounding like a fairy tale full of monsters and heroes. Their tea grew cold and Roy's voice became hoarse as he explained the true story behind the Central City uprising. There was more to it, Elicia was sure, she got hints that he wasn't even telling her everything, though what he said was enough.

"So…the…thing that killed my Dad…is gone?"

Nodding, Roy picked up his cup, drinking his cold tea and making a face at it. "Envy destroyed its Philosopher's Stone and crumpled into dust." His eyes turned dark, as if he was reliving the memory.

Elicia swallowed, closing her eyes. She wasn't sure those were the words she wanted to hear from Roy. The thing…monster…homunculus that killed her father was dead but somehow, it didn't leave her feeling any better. Instead, a pit burned in her stomach at the idea the creature had gotten away without being punished. Without her having a chance to look in its face.

"Elicia." Roy's voice brought her out of her thoughts. He smiled at her, a gesture of affection and understanding, even though there was a bitter tinge to it as well. "I wanted vengeance for your father's death. I know how you feel. I cannot forgive Envy for taking Maes away from you and your mother. From me. But vengeance is a tough road to walk. It poisons the rest of your life, can become an obsession. I saw what it does to a man. I know what it did to me.

"There is no forgiveness for your father's death, Elicia. There never will be. But we can still celebrate his life and care for each other, the way he wanted us to."

A sob broke out of her throat. "It isn't enough, Uncle Roy! I want him back."

Roy left his chair to join her on the sofa, wrapping his arms around her as she cried. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

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The stone was cool, despite the sun shining on it. Elicia Hughes knelt, pulling away some stray grass from around the base. She looked up at the letters that formed a name and numbers that formed a date. Her fingers traced his name.

"Hi, Daddy. I have a lot to tell you."

There was more than one man whom Elicia Hughes admired.

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