Fugazi

She wasn't a hero, but that's fine, this world had heroes. She wasn't a warrior, but there were enough of those. She wasn't a sniper, an intelligence officer, or a mechanic. Wasn't even a doctor for all that being one would actually be useful. No, Elisa was - had always been - a chemist. Now if only she'd woken up in a world where that didn't paint a huge target on her back! SI-OC

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

December 3rd, 1901

She didn't realize where she'd been reborn until she was fourteen years old. And while part of her would always wonder if she could have done more, had she cottoned on earlier, that same part couldn't truly regret having gotten a proper childhood.

And for all the horrors she would later face, it was an idyllic childhood.

She'd been reborn the youngest of two daughters to a pair of bakers in a town that's only claim to fame was its proximity to a military academy.

Despite all appearances pointing to her having been reborn in the past–her birth certificate read 1887–she'd somehow always been treated with the same level of respect as she'd been afforded in her first life.

Her parents were bakers, simple folk, and yet they'd happily put both her sister and herself through schooling, had always supported her interest in science, and had never once suggested she would need to grow up to be the perfect wife.

It flew in the face of everything she'd known of the past but in the end she'd had to concede that her parents didn't care one iota that they were girls, just that they were happy.

Partly, she'd chalked it up to a cultural difference. She'd never been able to pin down the language they spoke. It had a name, of course, but she only knew the English name for languages so could never quite place it with her past knowledge.

Honestely, she'd just always assumed she was actually in Austria and had resolved to immigrate before the First World War could break out. The language barrier was a big reason she'd taken so long to figure it out. Being called Amestrian in that distinct European accent did not bring to mind an animated nationality from an anime she'd seen as a child. Rather it came across as the Austrian word for, well, Austrian.

Even in class when teachers would bring up the topic of alchemy she'd just assumed that was their word for chemistry. She'd been a Chemist in that first life and one of the more interesting things she'd learned was just how much chemistry had its roots in alchemy and philosophy, so it wasn't even an ungrounded assumption.

In the end, however, she learned the truth the day her sister met the man she'd marry.

The day had started off simple enough, her parents had been up since some ungodly hour, baking bread. Her sister had gotten up just a bit later than them to get started on breakfast, and she'd meandered down at some respectable hour.

After breakfast her sister and her had grabbed the baked bread and made their way to the military academy. The academy would buy the bread in bulk to serve to their cadets. It was one of the simpler jobs they had and normally went off without a hitch.

Only, on this day the guard seemed to be really on edge and refused to let them through the gate. He was willing to send a cadet out, to retrieve the bread and offer payment, but the academy was apparently on complete shutdown until further notice.

It had registered as odd, but the military was often odd so she hadn't questioned it.

Not until a boy–a cadet–barely sixteen years old had arrived to take their bread and introduced himself as, "Maes Hughes." It could have been a coincidence, she knew, Hughes was a common last name and for all she knew 'Maes' was a common first name in Austria of 1901. But as soon as she heard his name every 'coincidence' she'd ever brushed off came flashing back. And when her sister returned the favor, "nice to meet you cadet Hughes, I'm Gracia Frey and this my sister Elisa," the reality of her situation came crashing down.

She managed to push off her impending breakdown while Gracia invited Hughes to stop by their bakery on his next day off. She knew how observant her future brother-in-law (what the hell?!) was, it wouldn't do to act suspicious right when the military had upped their security.

Speaking of which...

"Cadet Hughes?" She called, causing brown eyes to shift her way, "uh. If you can't say, I understand. But, do you know why we weren't allowed inside today?"

There was a brief pause before a fake smile flashed across his face, "nothing to worry about Ms. Elisa, just a brief skirmish with some Ishvalan extremists. A small riot broke out, I'm sure it'll calm down soon, but the military does like to up its security during signs of conflict."

Her stomach dropped

"R-right. Thanks!"

She didn't realize where she'd been reborn until she was fourteen years old. After she'd met Maes Hughes, and learned the Ishvalan Civil War had already broken out.

Well, it was a nice childhood, while it lasted.

December 24th, 1901

The thing about being reborn into the FMA universe (Elisa would contemplate while helping her family bake a town's worth of Christmas cookies) was that there really wasn't much she could, or should, do.

For one, she didn't have a good grasp on the original timeline. She'd liked the show but it had never been one of her all consuming passions, so it wasn't as if she'd gone out of her way to memorize exactly when things had occurred.

She knew the Rockbells were killed during the Civil War, but not when in the war (nevermind where.) She knew Trisha died before the Rockbells–perhaps was already dead?

And she knew the boys likely tried to bring her back sometime after the war had ended, since Mustang was free to try and recruit a traumatized Ed.

But, everything she knew was in relation to the war, and she didn't know how long that lasted.

At some point the State Alchemists would be mobilized and the war would end. But "at some point" could mean in the next month, or in the next five years.

So, her first issue was a lack of information. Her second, however, was a lack of power.

Since there wasn't much she could do to affect things before canon her thoughts had moved to the canon timeline. After all, even if she could rush to Resembool as soon as the war ended and prevent the boys from doing human transmutation, how long before they just tried again? And, truthfully, could Amestris even be saved without Ed and Al in the picture?

If Elisa was honest with herself, the only things that even seemed worth trying to change were the fates of Nina and Hughes.

Neither of which she had the power to affect.

The problem was that Amestris was a military state. As a civilian she'd never be taken seriously, no one would believe her claims that Tucker had used his wife to make a Chimera. And the top brass would actively silence any attempt to bring that to light, what with Tucker being a viable candidate as a sacrifice. Hughes' death came with even more restrictions. As far as Elisa could recall he had died on base. Which was a place she wouldn't even be allowed near, not as a civilian. Even Sheska had to be hired on as a private to work a desk job at the records department.

But, Elisa couldn't join the military.

She'd worked in government in that first life, worked with Law Enforcement, she was no stranger to using science for the state. But the big difference between military and law enforcement was war.

Amestris was a country that was constantly at war with its neighbors. Even if she waited out the Civil War, waited to join until after the genocide was over, she could still, very easily, be called to a war front.

And she just couldn't.

It wasn't even about her morals. Yes, she thought killing was wrong and given the option she would always choose something else. But if she wasn't given the option? If it was her or her sister's life versus that of a stranger's? Well, she knew what she'd do. So it wasn't really about morals. Rather, it was about fear.

Elisa had already died once. And maybe you'd think that would inure her to a fear of death, except, it was actually the exact opposite.

She knew, better than probably anyone, what it meant to die. What it meant to lose everyone and everything you'd ever known. And it was not something she cared to repeat.

So, she didn't want to join the military.

But, of course, life doesn't always go the way you want.

January 11th, 1902

Cadet Hughes–

"Call me Maes, Elisa, I'm only two years older than you!"

–started coming around the bakery every free day he got. Maes claimed it was because they sold the best apple pies.

Gracia having recently taken over baking that dessert, a fact she'd dropped during that first interaction, was surely just a coincidence.

Her parents thought nothing of it. It was quite common for cadets to come into town and flirt with the locals. Nothing ever came of it, of course. Most of the local girls did try to snag themselves a military husband, but sixteen to twenty year olds at the start of their career weren't often looking to settle down. And the academy did do its best to educate against unwanted pregnancies and such traps.

So, her parents were pretty convinced this harmless flirting would fizzle out by the time Maes graduated.

Elisa, of course, knew better.

Not that she minded. While it was a younger sibling's job to feel like no one was good enough for their older sister, this was Maes Hughes.

This was the man who would worship the ground her sister walked on. Even now, at the very beginning of their friendship, when he was still but a boy, it was incredibly obvious how much he respected Gracia.

He respected her opinions, her time, her profession. Heck, he even respected her family, choosing to always show Elisa care when most people wanted to ignore the little sisters of the world.

While it was possible Gracia could fall in love with someone else, start a family far from Central and never get involved in the plot, the truth was Elisa wasn't actually sure there was a man out there who'd love her more than Maes.

It's why she was always polite to the boy. She didn't know if she'd existed in that original story, had very carefully not thought about why her sister would name her daughter Elicia, but she was going to make damn sure that she wasn't the one to screw up this relationship.

Which was why, when a cadet who was most certainly not Maes came around looking for Gracia, she'd been quick to step in.

"My sister's not interested."

Surprised dark eyes locked with apathetic green ones. "I apologize…but I am curious as to what your sister is uninterested in, as I have yet to ask her anything."

Elisa had been manning the register when this boy had pranced in asking after Gracia. Not after their desserts, or their bread. Not after the baker who made said desserts. No, he'd walked right in and asked to speak to Gracia. And Elisa didn't know this boy, but she knew her sister, if there was some young cadet out there who had the right to call on her she would have said something. So, this guy, whoever he was, was not welcome.

"You didn't need to. She doesn't know you, and she doesn't want to know you. So, unless you're here to buy something, I suggest you leave."

That would have been enough to chase most riff-raff off. The kind of guy who believed he was entitled to a date with a girl he'd never spoken to, was often also the kind of guy that would have stormed off in a huff at being talked down to by a fourteen year old girl.

Not this guy though, he was–annoyingly–smart enough to pick up on her loophole.

"In fact, I am here to buy something Miss...?"

"Frey. Elisa Frey."

"Right, well Miss Frey. I happen to be in the mood for some dessert. How much for a chocolate pastry?"

Her eyes pointedly looked at the little menu set up next to the register before moving back to the 'customer' and answering, "150 cens."

"Right, I'll take six."

"Fine." She snapped, and without missing a beat held out her hand, "that'll be 900 cens."

The boy's brows shot-up, "did you just do that in your head?"

"...multiplication? Yes?"

"But you did that in two seconds," his brows furrowed as if working out a complex problem, "do you normally sell in batches of six?"

"Not particularly, but 6 is just 3 and 2, and 150 doubled is just 300. Everyone knows 3 times 3 is 9. So, that's 900. Easy."

"...right. Your brain is very peculiar."

Elisa flushed.

She did know that. Even in that first life her brain had been divergent. But in this world, with a lifetime of memories of a different culture to shape her? There was no doubt she was different.

Still, he didn't have to point it out.

"Wh-whatever. Here's your pastries. Pay me and go."

The boy stared at the pastries, eyes still furrowed in shock "...your sister really is not using Hughes."

"What? Gracia?! Of course not!"

He nodded as if that confirmed something for him. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed, but Maes has been taking every chance to sneak into town, and he's just noble enough to be trapped in...well, I needed to check up on him."

And just like that Elisa felt her anger fade. She could easily imagine it, Maes sneaking off every weekend, returning to wax poetically about the most amazing baker. Going off about their future wedding, their kids, and already asking this boy to step in as best man.

Gracia and Maes weren't even dating, not yet, but this boy wouldn't know that. And she could respect taking care of your friends. Although, she was a bit curious...

"...I mean she definitely isn't using him, but how do you figure that? You haven't even spoken to her?"

"Well, for one, a family trying to make a good match through a soldier wouldn't have raised a daughter that's so quick to kick one out."

Which, okay, yeah if Gracia had been using Maes and Elisa was in on it then it'd be expected of her to let this boy in. Even if only with the intention to make Maes jealous enough to ask Gracia out.

It was the type of plotting her classmates would have definitely participated in.

Not exactly malicious, but definitely manipulative.

"And, secondly, they would have raised you to hide your intelligence in front of a possible suitor."

She wasn't quite quick enough to hide the disgust that crossed her face. But, thankfully, the boy wasn't offended. He just chuckled. "Not hitting on you, promise."

She flushed again, she'd been more disgusted by the idea of a woman acting dumb to reel a man in. But could see how her reaction could be interpreted differently...

"I wasn't, I mean, I don't want to, but, not like that! I just–"

Another chuckle. "It's fine, understood, you're young and just not interested in dating, yet. Good for you. Anyway," he held up the bag of pastries, "I've got to get this back to the barracks. Rub it in Maes face that I had the day off while he didn't."

Elisa nodded, letting the boy go. It was only as he was walking out the door that she realized–

"Hey! I never got your name!"

"Hmm? Oh," a smirk, "it's Roy Mustang." The door swung closed.

Of fucking course it is.

May 21st, 1902

After that Roy started joining Maes when their days off aligned.

Ostensibly it was to act as the chaperone. Her presence worked in so much as it allowed for no questions as to Gracia's virtue, but Roy's acted as a different sort of proof.

Should something happen to cause the military to have questions Roy could step in as a witness and ensure everything was, and had always been, above board.

Elisa was pretty sure that had been a test, too. If the sisters got mad at the implication that Roy was there to prevent allegations of pregnancy, or worse, rape, then he likely would have dragged his friend away.

But the Frey sisters hadn't batted an eye at the implication.

Neither of them would ever do something so heinous, but they also knew girls who absolutely would. In an ideal world it wouldn't be needed, but in an ideal world the sisters could safely walk the city at night. As it stood though, caution was the better part of valor.

It took their reaction and all of one day watching Gracia and Maes interact for Roy to realize he wasn't needed.

But still, he came.

To bug Elisa, if nothing else.

"Come on, I'm just having a bit of trouble with this one part."

"Aren't you an alchemist? Doesn't that require a strong grasp of mathematics?!"

"Sure. You need a good grasp on ratios and conversions. Geometry, too. But unless you're specializing in some highly theoretical stuff it doesn't rely on this type of math."

Elisa couldn't quite shake the thought that he sounded a little less than genuine.

"Anyway, I am good at math. Ask Maes, this professor is just horrific at teaching."

Elisa sighed and looked back at the problem puzzling through his work. "You need to change your coordinate system."

"What?"

She reached for the pencil, sketching out a diagram. "This problem is way too complicated in cartesian coordinates. But if you change to a polar coordinate system..."

Roy just watched her pencil move rapidly across the paper. Silently taking in this child–whose only experience with Calculus should have been the textbook he'd lent her last month–easily solve a problem using a method that should be impossible.

"Polar coordinates...in three dimensions?"

"What?"

Roy pushed on, excitement building. "Theorists use polar coordinates to record Alchemical arrays, but circles are always two dimensional. There's a way to utilize these coordinates in three dimensions?"

Elisa stopped writing, confused, before opening the textbook Roy had lent her.

"I could have sworn..." she muttered to herself before finding what she was looking for in the second-to-last chapter, "aha!" She flipped the book to face Roy, "see, it's right there. Mathematicians have been using this for like the last 80 years."

Elisa let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't thought that polar coordinates were a modern invention. She'd been very careful on the science side of things, Einstein didn't prove the existence of molecules until 1905. Until then they were just theorized. If this world ran along a similar timeline as her own then her knowledge was very dangerous and very unexplainable. So she'd been very careful with science, but her knowledge of mathematical history was much more scarce.

Elisa just assumed that everything she'd known about Calculus had existed and been proved long before the 20th century. 80 years was cutting it a bit close in her books, but it was old enough to have made it into the prevailing literature on the subject. So it was something she could have feasibly learned from the book.

"...I guess it's all the way in the back, so maybe you didn't learn it, yet. You probably could integrate in cartesian, that's just so much more work."

"...have you ever thought about studying alchemy?" Wide eyes shot up to lock with Roy's own. "I think you'd be really suited to the science."

Elisa externally froze, internally her mind was going a mile a minute.

She had no way of explaining her contradicting feelings to Roy. No way of explaining how the chemist in her was dying to explore the science. But how the scared little girl in her strongly associated alchemy with death.

She couldn't even point to a poor public opinion, State Alchemists had yet to join the Civil War so the general population still looked at them with the sort of reverence you'd bestow on a doctor.

In the end she settled for a half truth.

"If I could teach it to myself, I would. Or like, with a study group? But I," her eyes flickered to Gracia who was excitedly showing Maes how to shape cookie dough, "don't want to have to go off and live with a master."

Roy hummed to himself, "so if I can get you a textbook, you'll read it? Try out some of the beginner arrays?"

Elisa found herself nodding. That was probably fine, right? There were plenty of people in Amestris who knew the basics of Alchemy. It's not like she'd be forced to conscript just because she could transmute a doll, right?

"Great. Hey, Maes, sun's setting." Roy called smirking at the crestfallen look his friend was sporting. He nodded to the Frey sisters and turned to pull his friend out of the bakery. If he didn't force the issue they'd never make it back on time.

Walking away he cast one last look at Elisa. There was just something about her mind...

Roy had always been good at judging a person's value. Elisa as she stood was definitely a pawn, but given a clear path Roy had a feeling she could promote, and that gave her the ability to become anything.

Maybe.

July 6th, 1902

Alchemy, Elisa was quick to realize, was fascinating.

The first Law of Alchemy was Equivalent Exchange–to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost.

It was a Law that flew in the face of everything Elisa had ever learned in Chemistry, until she realized just how poorly Amestrians understood Chemistry.

In Chemistry, in Physics, there were several Laws of Conservation. It was accepted that Energy could be neither created nor destroyed only turned from one form to another. Likewise, mass was not lost in a reaction, as the name implied it was conserved.

Trying to reconcile these Laws greatly frustrated Elisa until she'd realized that what Alchemists meant by "lost" and what Chemists meant, were not the same thing.

A Chemist would use the word decomposition, the breaking down of things to their smaller, base parts. That wasn't loss, the elements were still there. In Elisa's mind, "lost" meant removed from existence, to be made into nothingness. As soon as she realized that's not what they meant, the rest of the theory clicked.

Suddenly she was able to take their esoteric ramblings and bridge the meanings with her prior knowledge. Claims of using tectonic plates to power arrays became the idea of converting geothermal energy into kinetic energy capable of interacting with and breaking bonds.

A line about circles being all connected became an understanding that the array was a circuit capable of magnifying or minimizing energy output as needed (based on the pre-drawn design.)

She now understood that an array was just a method for drawing up and directing energy. An Alchemist needed an idea of where they were starting, where they were ending and how much energy it would cost, when drawing the array.

But that was it.

The rest was entirely down to their own personal understanding of the reaction.

Put another way, an alchemical array may state that you are starting with wood and ending with water, and it might have a set energy output written in, but to actually work the alchemist activating the array would need to understand what wood was made of. They'd need to be able to mentally strip away the hydrogen and oxygen, leave behind the carbon, and force the atoms to interact.

Suddenly Elisa understood why Mustang could walk around with his flame array visible to everyone. A combustion reaction started with a hydrocarbon and oxygen and ended with fire. That was well known, and wearing that fact on your glove did nothing to explain what was actually being done.

Now she understood why alchemists had notes. Understood why they learned to code them and carried them everywhere. The array was only the face of the reaction. The true science was done with pen and paper in a small book long before an array was ever drawn.

It was still magic. Being able to draw up energy and force it to obey your will was nothing short of pure magic. But it was definitely a hard magic system, something that Elisa could puzzle through and actually make headway with.

Alchemy was fascinating but, more importantly, to a girl who used to generate 3D models of molecular interactions, certain aspects were also dangerously easy.

Roy had demanded to be there before she tried her first array, so she waited until his next day off that overlapped with Maes. Two months after he first dropped the textbook off.

Roy probably thought her a real child with how quickly she ushered him to the array she had finished that morning. But Elisa didn't care, this was the day she would learn if she could do magic.

"Carbon to carbon?" He questioned, fingers tracing the symbols before shooting Elisa a confused look. She just smiled and nodded, reaching for the circle.

Her idea was to start off simple. No changing molecular configurations, definitely no changing atomic configurations (as would be needed to transmute one element into another) keeping to the same atoms, just, stacking them differently.

It made perfect sense in her mind.

So she placed a chunk of graphite on an array and pulled. Pulled energy up from deep below the ground. Pulled apart the thrice bonded carbons of graphite. And then pulled them back together into tetrahedral clusters.

Elisa carefully kept the image in her mind, a 3 dimensional tessellation stretching out in every direction, until, at last, every carbon of the original material found a new home.

When she was done the light drew back revealing a small diamond.

Elisa shot Roy a huge smile at her success. Only to let it fall at his look of absolute shock.

"Is that a diamond?"

"...yes? It's fine, right? The book only mentioned transmuting gold as a taboo, it didn't say anything about gems?!"

Roy just shook his head in disbelief. "It's not a taboo, but that's mainly because up until now no one has been able to successfully transmute a crystal."

"Wh-what? No, that can't be right! What about ice? This isn't too different than turning water into ice crystals!"

Roy's eyes sharpened.

"You can freeze water with alchemy?"

Elisa bit back the thought that she could probably freeze water vapor with alchemy.

"...I don't know? Maybe?"

"Right, well," his eyes darted to Maes and Gracia who looked on in confusion. "Elemental manipulation is considered extremely advanced and very rare. Alchemists dedicate their entire lives to cracking its code. I only know of one man capable of controlling flames. And I've never heard of anyone able to control wind or water."

Elisa suddenly noticed that Roy was bereft of his iconic gloves.

"If you could demonstrate that then you'd probably be instantly let into the State Alchemy program."

Elisa froze and Roy, as observant as he was, noticed. "Of course," he continued without missing a beat, "you don't have to join the state to use Alchemy. I probably wouldn't go around selling home-transmuted diamonds. But most people would never question the science behind anything you transmute."

Elisa nodded while internally berating herself. Of course they didn't know how to make crystals, it was likely that no one had determined a crystal's lattice structure. Not yet, at least. And if they didn't know what shape to make they'd never be able to transmute it.

"...right. Thanks."

Roy just shrugged. "One day, if you're willing, I'd love to hear the story of how you figured this out."

"Hmm," she joked, trying to hide her growing panic. "I don't know, this seems to be important information. I wouldn't want to tell it to a cadet."

Roy caught on instantly, "oh? And what ranking should I be?"

She pretended to think for a second, "let's say, brigadier general."

That way the plot will already have concluded. And you could use my knowledge to help, not hurt.

Roy just nodded. "That's another reason to become a state alchemist, then. Major is much closer to General than 2nd Lieutenant."

At that point Maes decided to join the conversation, slinging an arm over Roy's shoulder, "go ahead, gloat Roy. Tell the world about how you're going to jump the ranks and leave me behind to climb like the lowly soldier I am!"

Roy shot him an unimpressed look, "you're jumping six ranks just by completing the academy, don't even start."

"Oh, is that how it works Maes?" Gracia asked, moving to stand with the three of them. "I knew there was some benefit to attending the academy, but not what."

A giant smile spread across Maes face as he excitedly started educating Gracia on the various routes into the military and why his was the best path.

"You can enlist as a private, of course, that's what most kids desperate for money or without a proper trade or education might do. Your housing and food are covered and you instantly start earning. But you're only trained for about two months. And it would take you several years to climb through the various ranks, unless you can demonstrate talent in a specific skill."

"Roy mentioned six?"

"Yes; Private, Lance Corporal, Corporal, Sergeant, Master Sergeant, and Warrant Officer. Whereas if you're able to successfully graduate from the Academy you can start your career as a Second Lieutenant."

Elisa nodded along as Maes continued to explain the ranks, explaining how passing the State Alchemist exam started you as a Major, three ranks up from a 2nd Lieutenant but that doing so came with all sorts of strings. Basically forcing you to work for the military for a minimum of four years, or risk being charged with desertion. Plus anything you created or discovered while under their employ was immediately patented to the government.

It was a nice change of pace from the propaganda filled "you'll get paid to do research" that was normally spread about. Of course Roy was quick to point out that if you'd already planned to make a career in the military then there really wasn't any loss in getting certified.

Elisa watched the boys squabble back-and-forth, chuckling with her sister. Thankfully it seemed like her talent in alchemy had been forgotten.

It hadn't.

February 5th, 1903

Maes finally asked Gracia out halfway through his second year at the academy.

He'd wanted to ask her after completing his second year, he'd later tell Elisa, but had been worried about being beaten to the punch by one of the newer cadets who had taken over recieving the bread orders for the academy.

Elisa didn't tell him that there was no way Gracia even looked twice at the boy, or that she was relatively certain Cadet Brown was gay (although perhaps she'd bring it up at their wedding.)

So, Maes had waited until Gracia's 18th birthday party–something Gracia had insisted on, Elisa would later learn, so as to protect Maes from any career-damaging gossip–to very publicly ask her sister to go steady.

"That man is going to be insufferable when he's married," a voice called from beside her. Elisa's eyes flickered to Roy, bitting back a smile.

"Married? Wait until he's a father."

Roy groaned.

Elisa chuckled, continuing to cut pieces of the birthday cake and pass them out to the various party goers. Turned out that when the local bakery threw a party everyone showed up for the cake.

"So, any annoyingly sincere boys try their luck with you while you're trapped playing hostess?"

Now it was Elisa's turn to groan.

"They just keep coming. And Maes is off being all happy with his life so he's not even here to play my pseudo-older brother and scare them off!"

Roy burst out laughing.

"I don't do the 'protective older brother' thing well, or I'd offer to help."

"Oh please, you'd probably stand by and give them pointers."

The man had the gall to smirk. "Don't know what pointers I can give them, you turned me down the one time you thought–"

"–you know that's not what happened–"

"–I was hitting on you."

"You're insufferable." Elisa grumbled.

"Well, my best friend is dating your sister, so I guess you're stuck suffering."

When a smirk cut across her face, Roy knew he'd messed up.

"Here, take over for a bit," she called, pushing the cake knife into his hands.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, me? You know, just that way," she motioned to where her sister was opening gifts, "to go and...tellMaesyoujustcalledhimyourbestfriendokaybye."

Roy cursed as she sprinted off giggling.

Maes was going to tease him about this for the rest of the week, he just knew it. And since Maes had finally decided to ask Gracia out Roy didn't even have any material he could use to return fire.

Oh well, at least Elisa was finally smiling. The poor girl had been glaring at the cake since the moment Roy had arrived. It had taken Roy exactly 5 minutes and observing one poor cadet approaching her to figure out the reason why.

He supposed Maes' confession had inspired them, but Roy could have warned them they chose the wrong girl. Elisa had absolutely no interest in dating, let alone any interest in dating a military man. The only reason she bothered with Maes and him was because they shared her view that the Civil War was a tragedy that shouldn't be occurring.

Roy didn't know what kind of man would eventually turn her head, but he knew it wouldn't be some low-level cadet incapable of independent thought.

It'd have to be someone smart, someone capable of challenging her, someone who shared her interests. But they'd also need to be confident enough to not get insecure when she proved smarter than them. Because she would prove smarter than them.

Unfortunately, that really narrowed down her options.

Roy ruthlessly ignored the thought that he fit that category perfectly. He had a plan, and that plan did not include dating a girl two years his junior while still in the academy.

Especially when he was returning to Master Hawkeye after he graduated and then setting his sights on the State Alchemy exam.

Elisa had some issues with State Alchemists. Roy didn't know what it was, but she'd tense every time they came up in a way that was eerily reminiscent of his Master.

He'd tried asking her about it once but she'd just made some vague statement about, "destroyer of worlds" and changed the subject.

So, it really didn't matter that he fit the bill of who she may consider dating. Roy had plans, and Elisa would never date a State Alchemist anyway, so it was all moot.

Still, he could be her friend. Maes was staying with Gracia for as long as she'd have him, so their paths would often cross.

Friendship was fine.

April 25th, 1903

Elisa turned sixteen not too long after Maes started dating her sister. Sixteen wasn't as big a deal as eighteen, you weren't considered an adult at sixteen. But it was the age when most people choose their field in life. It was the age Gracia was when she'd started apprenticing under their parents properly, and it was the age all the cadets hit before enrolling in the Academy.

Elisa didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. She was interested in studying alchemy, testing the limits of this world's magic system. But she refused to join the military to do so, and so she needed to find some other occupation to help support her dreams.

She'd been casting around for ideas for months. Putting feelers out for possible apprenticeships or the like. But by the time her birthday rolled around she'd still had nothing. Which was, apparently, by design.

"I'm sorry, what?" Elisa looked at the train ticket in Maes' hand, the letter in Roy's, and the packed suitcase in Gracia's with confusion.

"You're going on a trip," Gracia confirmed, a soft smile on her face. "Roy wrote to his Alchemy Master, he agreed to take you on as an apprentice for 2 years."

Elisa still looked at the train ticket with confusion.

"But, the shop?"

"Has mom, dad and I to help run it."

"But I'd be leaving you alone!"

Gracia thread her fingers together with Maes', "I'm not alone."

"B-but!"

Gracia just smiled pushing the suitcase into her little sister's hands. "It'll be fine. It's only two years. Besides, there's only so much you can learn from textbooks. And you need to complete an official apprenticeship to be able to offer alchemical services when you're older."

Elisa shot a glare at Roy for sharing those very true but very irrelevant facts with her sister.

"Come on," Roy pushed, "don't you want to study under someone with no ties to the government? Someone who would happily spend hours theorizing about elemental transmutations with you?"

Elisa hesitated, she had been wondering if there couldn't be a way to use solar power to charge an array. She hadn't brought it up with Roy, though, for all that he was a decent guy he'd yet to be fully disenchated with the military. Elisa couldn't risk that he wouldn't pass one of her ideas on.

She refused to let her knowkedge help better arm murderers.

But Roy was right, Hawkeye's dad had no ties to the military (aside from his father-in-law) and he could definitely keep a secret. Besides he died soon anyway, right? So he'd literally be taking her secrets to the grave.

Maes must have sensed weakness cause he was quick to shove the train ticket in her hands and let go, forcing her to hold on to it. "Don't overthink it, you're just going off to your own type of Academy same as Roy and I did at your age. Except yours is half as long as ours!"

"...I guess."

"That's the spirit! Now Roy has a letter for you to deliver, but you know I'll be expecting weekly updates of your progress!"

"You don't even care about Alchemy."

"But I care about you. And I'm planning to go into intelligence, who better to practice your research notes' ciphers on?"

Elisa blushed looking away from the man who had, in two short years, effectively become her brother.

Unfortunately that just meant locking eyes with her sister. Her sister who was looking at her with so much pride.

Elisa didn't want to leave. She wanted to study with an Alchemy Master, but she wanted to wake-up in the room she shared with her sister even more. Elisa didn't want to leave, but Gracia wanted her to. Gracia wanted Elisa to chase after her dreams, to experience a world outside of their little military town.

And Elisa would do anything for her sister.

Even leave her.

"Fine." She grabbed the letter Roy was still holding. "I guess I'll go on an adventure or something."

She tactfully ignored the smiles the three of them shot each other.

October 13th 1903

Studying with Berthold Hawkeye was nothing like she expected.

Elisa had a lot of experience with studying, in that first life she had effectively never stopped.

There were 13 years of mandatory schooling, then 4 years of college work. She'd been in lecture halls with hundreds of students, and library rooms with five. Some courses she'd have to teach herself from the textbook. One memorable course didn't even have that.

Even beyond university, the studying continued, lab work was always sort of apprentice-styled. She'd observed with a clipboard, gotten good at knowing what questions to ask and where to find information on the questions she shouldn't have to ask.

She'd constantly watched her coworkers, picked up their tricks and made them her own. Lectures didn't stop, either, there were still textbooks to read, and a never ending cascade of journal articles to review.

All that to say there were very few things Elisa felt comfortable saying she'd mastered. Studying was one of them. Until it wasn't.

The problem was two-fold, for one Elisa was still used to that first life where knowledge was readily available. You may not have the background to understand Quantum Mechanics, but you could still buy a book and try to make sense of it, if you were so inclined. Not so with Alchemy. All Alchemist's coded their notes and very few made that information available to the public posthumously. Which meant books on more than elementary-level transmutations didn't exist. Elisa couldn't teach herself theory without a textbook of sorts.

The second issue arose on Elisa's third day as an apprentice.

"What's the symbol for solar energy?"

"There isn't one. There's a sun symbolizing perfection, perfect harmony between mind, body, and soul, but that doesn't sound like what you were asking after."

"No...so what do I do if there's no symbol?"

"Create one."

For all the studying that Elisa had ever done she'd always been trying to learn existing knowledge. Even her experimentation was reliant upon theoretical concepts that were already well established.

But Master Hawkeye wasn't interested in an Apprentice that only activated set arrays. He wanted innovation, and he taught her with that in mind.

She was expected to dissect every circle he drew. Explain what each symbol was and theorize why he'd chosen them. She was never told if her theories were correct, Master Hawkeye prescribed to the notion that in reality you couldn't know if your theories were correct until you'd tested them yourself. If her logic was faulty or she was misinformed, he'd point that out. But that was the limit of his instruction.

She was also expected to defend every array she drew, explaining why she chose the symbols she did, the lines. Often she was tasked to draw two or three different arrays capable of completing the same tasks, using them all and then explaining which was superior and why.

It reminded her of being trained in chess.

To play chess all you had to learn was the rules, knowing that you could theoretically go out and challenge anyone, and experience was it's own sort of teacher. But to really get good at chess you had to study. You had to get in the habit of always asking, "why did they move there?" Whether it was famous games that had been recorded for posterity or a fun pick-me-up, every move should be questioned, both your opponents and your own. You should never move a piece without having a very deliberate reason as to why.

It was a different sort of way of thinking to be so constantly present, so aware of every decision. And, like chess, it wasn't enough for Elisa to think why, she was also expected to record everything.

Every thought on alchemy, every choice in her array, every result and change, it all need to be recorded.

So she'd spend all day in the lab trying new things, then all night in her room writing down what she'd tried. Her weekends weren't spared, either, for that's when she was tasked with coming up with a method of coding her notes.

A skill she had no experience with.

In the end it was Riza that helped Elisa settle on a code.

Meeting Riza had been a shock. She'd met Maes and Roy by complete accident and so hadn't had time to build up any preconceptions about the two men. But she'd known she'd be meeting Riza when she'd gotten on the train, and had spent the entire ride trying to imagine what the young sniper would be like.

For all of her assumptions, however, she hadn't imagined what she got. A young girl, barely fourteen, with eyes that were filled with suspicion.

It had been the girl who'd been sent to pick Elisa up from the station, claiming her dad was too wrapped up in his work to drop by. And the entire walk up to the Hawkeye estate had been filled with some sort of tension that Elisa couldn't understand.

When they'd come across the house and Elisa saw just how rundown it truly was, she'd began to have an inkling on what this could be about. And Riza had marginally relaxed when Elisa made no move to acknowledge the state of her house.

Over the next two weeks as Elisa split her time between desperately trying to keep up with Berthold Hawkeye and using what Alchemy she did know to repair the failing estate, Riza started to warm to her.

Master Hawkeye never took meals in the dinning room, preferring to spend every last minute of the day in his lab. Elisa would come to realize this was done in a desperate attempt to create something profitable enough to set Riza up for life. But, in practice, it just left Riza alone in a big, decaying, house.

When it became obvious that Elisa didn't prescribe to her father's idea of lunch Riza started to join her for the noonday meal. And then the evening meal, then for breakfast. When Elisa started conversations about her life back home, her sister, the bakery, Riza finally relaxed.

In time she'd confide in Elisa that she'd been worried the girl would turn out to be just like her father. Riza had been at a boarding school since the end of Roy's apprenticeship so she hadn't seen the full decline of the estate until about a month before Elisa had arrived.

Despite her misgivings it had actually been Riza who had persuaded her father to take on another student. As having a boarder meant having at least a semi-steady income. But that was before she got the full view of her father's new mania–two years alone with alchemy had apparently not been good for his psyche.

Regardless, it seemed that the fact that Elisa had hobbies outside of Alchemy was enough to relax Riza's guard, and her view on coding her notes was enough to remove Riza's barriers all together.

"I just don't get the point! Why does it matter if someone else can read my notes? Wouldn't we all improve if we just shared our knowledge?!"

"You don't think it should be guarded, passed down to only those who have proven themselves worthy?"

Elisa snorted. "No. I don't think there's such a thing as being worthy of knowledge. Those in power just know that with knowledge comes change and so they'll gate-keep it for as long as they can."

Riza bit her lip, "but what if the knowledge has the capacity for great harm? A weapon, per se, you wouldn't hide it then?"

Elisa's mind flashed to the worst chemical atrocities of her world; mustard gas, gas chambers, the atomic bomb, nuclear warheads, an eternal reminder of the destructive powers of science. "...I think that if the weapon is bad enough to be encoded, it's bad enough to never be written down. Either it's knowledge worth sharing or it's not." A sigh, "it's just important to remember that your enemies will always find a way to reverse-engineer your weapon and come at you with something even more terrifying."

Elisa did acknowledge that Riza and Master Hawkeye were right about one aspect of coding. This country didn't seem to have a concept of intellectual property, not beyond military patents that worked more like a non-compete clause than anything.

The only way to turn a consistent profit as an alchemist was to invent something worth money and then monopolize the fact that you're the only one who knew how it worked.

Besides, Elisa wasn't actually stupid enough to share her research notes with a country still led by Father.

Perhaps if Roy became Fuhrer, then she'd be happy to share, content in the fact that if someone abused her knowledge they'd be held accountable.

When she made a vague mention of this, of wanting to share her notes with the world, but not now, Riza'd had a brilliant idea.

"Published?"

"Yes, think about it, if you can get your work published in code under a pseudonym then one day you could just release the key and everyone will have the ability to read it!"

Riza had given her the idea, but Elisa had made it her own.

Maes was the first person she sent her work off to, with strict instructions not to share it with Roy.

A small children's book complete with hand illustrated pictures told the journey of a little rain drop as it traveled to the sky and back. Maes had asked how she'd possibly coded any information of note in two sentences per page. Elisa had just written back asking him if he thought it would sell.

She never told him that there wasn't a code at all. Never told him that she'd written out her notes in invisible ink, then drew an array on the corresponding side, carefully covered by the artwork.

Should someone know that the array was there and how to work it they could simply activate the array and watch as her words appeared across the page.

1904

~::~

01.09.1904

Dear Maes' Best Friend,

I was told that, despite my very clear instructions to the contrary, a certain book of mine has found its way into your possession. I give you full permission to mock me for its existence. I want it on record, however, that it was, no is my intention to write a proper novel, I just need to figure out some logistics.

If I wasn't certain that you'd take my ideas and immediately use it to get yourself collared I'd be picking your brain for a solution.

Anyway, how goes things out there? If Maes is to be believed the sun is shining, the birds are singing and my sister is growing more angelic by the hour. As I distinctly recall this being the rainy season you can appreciate my skepticism.

Yours,

Elisa F.

P.S. Tell Maes that I'll never be trusting him with a secret again. 'Future Intelligence Officer' my ass!

~::~

03.21.1904

Dear Gracia's Sister,

I'm afraid I haven't the faintest clue as to what you're talking about. The only book Maes' has shown me is the most adorable children's novel written by one Beth Grey. Honestly, you really should check it out, in an attempt to connect with her audience she made an effort to lower her artistic skills to that of a child. Truly an innovative idea!

All joking aside, Maes only sent it my way because he was frustrated at having a code he couldn't crack. He assumed you must have done something alchemical to it, and while I could discern that you used a chemical beyond that of regular ink, I couldn't figure out how to render them visible. I assume it is this step preventing you from branching on to true novels? I'd say you should feel free to confide in me, but I absolutely will use anything at my disposal to rise in ranks.

After all, I was promised answers if I rose high enough, no?

As for the town, things could be better. I can't say much lest it get redacted, but I'm sure you can draw your own conclusions when I say that your sister has turned to baking unsweetened bread rather than pastries. Don't bother worrying though, you know Maes would buy out the bakery before he let your family suffer.

Things will get better, they always do.

Roy M.

P.S. Maes says he was seeking a consultation with an expert in their field which is more than permitted.

~::~

05.10.1904

Roy Mustang!

Did you deconstruct my book?! I actually put effort into that, you know! Jerk.

A sugar tax? The war must be escalating if the government is trying to strengthen the treasury...I'm sure you noticed but I sent this by way of Gracia, so you can send a proper response without fear of censorship through her. If you're worried about it connecting back to you then choose a pseudonym, you already know mine.

Training is going well, it's never ending, that's for sure, but after a year I've finally made it out of the "he checks everything I do three times before letting me activate it" stage, so that's an improvement.

Now he only checks my work twice.

I shouldn't complain, not really, I've learned a lot from Master Hawkeye.

I try not to stare at his work too much, he's paranoid that someone else will take credit for it–has he been burned before?–but the little glimpses I've seen humble me. I've looked into water manipulation like you'd suggested back then, but I can't send it out of the array unless it's connected.

Obvious? I know.

One of the key limitations of Alchemy? I'm aware.

But Master has figured out some way to chain reactions which gives me some hope that there's a way to overcome this.

~::~

07.07.1904

Dear Miss Grey,

I'm afraid I'll have to refrain from answering your inquiry lest I risk incriminating myself. Although it may calm your ire to know that Miss Gracia Frey felt the need to host a 2 hour lecture on the sanctity of gifts from which a Cadet Hughes left quite dejected. I heard he went on to take it out on his best friend, that poor sod.

As for the current state of the war, I couldn't say for sure. There are definitely rumors that the top brass is preparing for this to be a much longer endeavor than originally suspected. Already class topics have started to shift, Tactics in Different Terrains has begun to solely focus on arid climates. The three classes below us have been moved to an academy further south, likely to get them used to extreme heats. I believe they would have moved us down too if we hadn't already made it through our combat modules. In all honesty I suspect the academy will be closing when we graduate next May.

At least until such a time that this war has ended.

Maes, forward thinker that he is, has already started trying to convince Gracia's parents to move. If the academy closes and the war leads to rationing, well, I'm sure you can appreciate what he's trying to prevent. He doesn't want to stress Gracia, though, so perhaps keep this to yourself? I meant what I said before, he really would buy the entire store before letting that family fall to ruin. You know he would.

I am pleased to hear your studies have been so fruitful. I plan to visit after graduation, I'm sure you can guess at my intentions without my having to say it. While our goals differ I hope you can still wish me luck in my endeavors as I continue to wish you luck in yours.

Sincerely,

Rex

~::~

09.23.1904

Rex,

I'm sure you can appreciate the futility in telling one not to worry. While I'm certain Maes would do all in his power to protect the Frey family, based on past dealings with the parents I find it hard to believe they will quietly pack up their business and move, regardless of what the future holds.

That being said, I thank you for your candor on this matter. I would rather know and worry than live in bliss and be blindsided by reality. Besides, it is perfectly healthy to worry, it shows that you care. Think of this as a thought from that peculiar mind of mine, but I don't think there's anything wrong with embracing the darker emotions of life. Anger, sadness, fear, and worry all bring as much meaning to life as joy and peace.

Still, worry without direction is meaningless so I've been giving this some thought. Did you get a chance to read my book before you destroyed it? If so, do you think it's worth trying to publish? I have a few story ideas that I think could turn a profit? Please, I'm not looking for false platitudes, give me your honest thoughts.

On the point of supporting you, yes, of course, to the moon and back. Yours is not a path I wish to walk, but I'm not so blind as to miss that you walk it for our sake. If you must become a dog at least I know your loyalty will always be first to the people. Just know that there are those who see the good you will do, even when you can't.

I wish you luck with your schoolwork.

Yours,

Beth G.

~::~

11.10.1904

Beth,

As usual your insight proved correct. The Freys have decided to stay in town. Maes is beside himself and Gracia has taken to supporting her parent's decision–is there more to that story?–which has led to the first true fight I've seen between them. I've encouraged Maes to reach out to the youngest Frey sister, Elisa, in the hopes of gaining some support. But I believe his letters to her have contained no mention of the spat.

If you cross paths perhaps you could let her know that her future brother-in-law could require her special brand of comfort?

If worry is a key component of a full life, then mine is on its way to being very complete. Things on the front seem to be escalating. Maes' and my path have been known to our professors for years so I don't believe either of us will ship out East for a few years, yet. But I worry the same cannot be said for the rest of our classmates. I do not dare put to paper my thoughts on the matter, but I'm sure you can guess.

As for your book, yes of course you can publish it! It's a children's book, I won't pretend it will revolutionize the literary world, but it was good for what it was. If I had a child, I'd have bought it for them. Actually, when Maes has a child I'm sure he will buy it for them. Which is really about the highest level of praise I can give you. Take it as thanks for your support.

On that note, you should know that I will spend my life trying to live up to the man you claim to see.

Rex.

~::~

12.08.1904

Rex,

You'll be pleased to know that I did run into Ms. Frey who was quite distraught to hear about Maes' issues. I believe she wrote him immediately chastising him for not involving her sooner. This is all a second-hand account, as you know, so take it with a grain of salt. But, according to dear Elisa, the sisters had made a pact over a decade ago that made it very hard for Gracia to take Maes' side now.

Apparently, to pay for the level of schooling both Frey sisters had received the parents had to put a lien on their store. They'd managed to make the money up over the years but upon discovering this fact the sisters swore to honor their parents with loyalty. They had put everything on the line to make the dreams of two little girls a reality, those same girls could never stand in the way of their parents' dreams.

But worry not, along with writing Maes, Elisa also wrote her sister. In her letter she detailed my idea for helping supplement some of the costs of the bakery. Of course, this is all moot if my books don't sell, but I'll never know unless I try.

That was a very good line, you shouldn't waste it on an author like me. Save it for your future wife. Unless you'd like me to use it in an upcoming novel?

You'll be pleased to know I've made some real progress in my training. I'm a handful of months from a breakthrough, I can just feel it.

I can't wait to show you what I've created!

Beth G.

April 30th 1905

"...so instead of chalk I created my own mixture using–"

"–don't. Keep that as a trade secret."

Elisa raised her brow in surprise, staring at her Master. He'd never told her not to explain something before.

"This method, it works?"

She nodded, it had been a pain-in-the-ass to figure out but she'd finally made a photosensitive material that she could draw with, which was the last thing she was missing.

"Show me."

With a shrug Elisa reached for a paper and then pulled out a pen filled with the ink she'd handcrafted. Without a thought she drew out an array she'd mastered months ago. Then turning to her Master she smirked and threw the paper up in the air, jumped, and slammed one hand on the array. Berthold Hawkeye watched in astonishment as an array–in no way connected to tectonic energy–managed to create water.

"Do you know what you've just done?" Elisa shot him a confused look and Berthold had to bite back a curse. Roy had warned him, about two years ago now, in that letter she'd delivered. Roy had warned him that for all his new student was the perfect apprentice for him, a genius with no interest in selling her skills to the military, she was also painfully unaware of her genius.

"Fishermen would pay through the nose for an array that doesn't rely on tectonic energy. If the military learns of it they'd give you a government contract on the spot for the chance to implement it on their navy vessels."

"Wha?"

"Elisa. Up until 2 seconds ago the only way to utilize Alchemy was to draw energy up from the tectonic plates themselves. In short, that meant that if you were on the ocean, you couldn't use alchemy."

Berthold watched as, at last, the enormity of her discovery sank in, "b-but, I've been working on this for two years?! If it was such a big deal, why didn't you say anything?!"

"Honestly I never expected you to succeed. One can learn just as much from failure as success, so it seemed a worthy endeavor. Seeing as you did succeed, however..."

Elisa's eyes widened as she watched her Master slowly bow to her. "...I suppose this is goodbye."

"Wha?"

"I'm saying you've graduated. I've nothing left to teach you, unless you want to learn flame alchemy?"

Elisa shook her head in denial. There was a level of mental control necessary for flame alchemy that she just didn't possess. There was no doubt that she'd be able to use the flames right up until her concentration snapped. At which point who knows what would happen.

"Right. I'll go tell Riza, I'm sure she'd like to prepare a goodbye meal for you."

"Wait. I'm leaving tonight?"

"Of course."

"But I don't even have money for a train ticket?!"

Berthold stared at the grass she'd dampened, unimpressed, "you're a competent alchemist now. Make some money."

And, that was that. Apparently.

It wasn't until after dinner, after a heartfelt goodbye with Riza in which she promised to write, and a nod from Mast–no, from Mr. Hawkeye, that the reality of her situation sank in. Actually, it wasn't until after she made it to town, haggled a train ticket for some alchemical repairs, and finally sat down to think about it that it really sank in.

Elisa hadn't meant to come up with something so crazy! Her goal had just been to find a way to utilize alchemy even if some stupid being in a jar decided she shouldn't. She'd vaguely entertained the thought of upgrading Roy's array before the big fight. But she'd never thought about other uses for her solar-powered arrays. She put her head in her hands and groaned. Three years later and she was still making the same mistakes.

At least I should be home in time to watch Maes propose.

May 4th, 1905

Roy stood with his graduating class, saluting their professors one final time. Behind him he knew he'd find his Aunt sitting uncomfortably close to Elisa Frey. He'd never really intended to introduce the two, had thought she'd still be up with the Hawkeyes when sending the invitation home. It set an uncomfortable feeling in his gut, the idea of Elisa learning about his life before the academy.

He wasn't embarrassed, not truly, he knew what an amazing woman his Aunt was. But he also knew how people reacted, how they always reacted, and if he was being honest he'd sort of long since placed Elisa on a pedestal. And he wasn't quite ready to watch her fall from it.

Still, Maes had asked for his help distracting everyone while he set up for his proposal. So, ready or not, Roy was going to have to face the music.

"Roy-boy! You didn't tell me you made the acquaintance of such a lovely flower!"

A snort. "R-roy b-boy," Elisa choked out, before bursting into giggles, "I can't believe I've never th-thought of that!"

Roy groaned while shooting his Aunt a look, trying to determine just how much she'd let slip. His Aunt shot him a smirk that let everyone around see the family resemblance before causing Roy's brain to stutter to a halt.

"I've been telling young Elisa all about your childhood. And she's had the most intriguing thoughts."

"I mean," Elisa cut in having gotten her giggles under control, "it makes sense why you have so many good lines. Any boy would grow up to be a lady-killer with 15 older sisters helping raise him."

"You don't…they're not actually my sisters, you know that, right?" Roy questioned, but his hidden meaning was clear; you know they work at a brothel?

"Yeah, Madame Chris explained, but I mean, they helped raise you, right? So it might not be by blood, but they're definitely your sisters."

And that was the truth. But it was a truth that no-one ever bought. People always assumed that there had to be something non-platonic going on. After all, what healthy male could surround himself with such beauties and not feel attracted to them?

"And it doesn't bother you? You don't think it's weird?!"

It was at that moment that Maes chose to drop his giant banner showcasing one of the candid shots he'd taken of Gracia months ago, with the letters 'WILL YOU MARRY ME?!' proudly printed underneath.

Elisa just nodded to Maes who was now hugging a smiling Gracia. "That's weird. But weird doesn't mean bad, you know? Besides," she turned to face Roy, a smile lighting up her face, "you're a pretty great guy, and if that's due to 16 different women whipping you into shape then I think this country probably owes them all a big thanks."

Roy locked eyes with his Aunt, one thought circulating his mind.

I am so screwed.

His Aunt's answering smirk was less than reassuring.

"Now come on, let's go congratulate those two and then I can show you what I've been working on!" Elisa grabbed his hand and tugged him behind her, completely ignorant of Roy's new found awareness.

I am so, so, screwed.

Chapter 2: Civil War

Chapter Text

January 3rd 1907

The first time Elisa visited Central City was for the wedding. Maes had managed to get his ideal posting to HQ barely two months after graduation which was great for his career, less so for his relationship.

Her parents had discussed the idea of having a shorter courtship so that Gracia could move out with Maes to Central. After all, they'd known each other for 4 years by the time of his proposal, had been dating for almost 3 of those years, there was no question they were well and truly committed.

In the end, however, it had actually been Maes that had shut the idea down. With him working in intelligence Gracia would need to undergo an entire background check before she was allowed to live with him, something that could take months. Maes had figured that it'd be better for her to spend that time with her family, planning the wedding she wanted.

So the two love birds had gone long-distance, having to resort to letters and monthly visitations.

It took 3 months for Gracia's clearance to come through, but then–with very suspicious timing, Elisa would note–Maes had been given some sort of undercover assignment that was way above their clearance level. An undercover assignment that lasted a year.

Gracia had handled the whole situation with more grace and poise than Elisa ever would have. Claiming that she and Maes had spoken about the realities of his job plenty of times, and, okay, with an ongoing Civil War it probably was very important to make sure your partner was aware they could be left alone for months on end. Still sort of pissed Elisa off, though.

Not so much at Maes, the situation had to have been killing him too, but more so that she was certain Maes had been given his mission because he wasn't–technically–married, yet.

At least it resulted in a promotion for Maes, he was now 'First Lieutenant Hughes'. From a practical perspective it meant more pay, and had allowed Maes to put a downpayment on his and Gracia's new home. So, it wasn't a total waste.

But, yeah, with the amount of setbacks the two had been facing it was quickly decided that they should get married as soon as Maes' returned. And that they should get married in Central to ensure that all of Maes' coworkers and superiors could attend. That way they'd all think twice before giving him an extended undercover assignment, again.

So Elisa found herself in Central for the first time, for the wedding. The wedding also doubled as the first time she'd seen Roy since he'd become a State Alchemist.

She'd kept up with the man via letters over the months. But they'd grown scarce over time. At first he'd been busy trying to help Riza host a funeral for her dad–Elisa had tried to attend but an ill-timed landslide had prevented the train from making the journey–then he'd been busy trying to decode Mr. Hawkeye's notes. Then he'd been busy studying for the state alchemy exams, then busy taking them. And then he'd started getting assignments that took him all over the country, but somehow never near her town, and his writing that had been scarce all year all but stopped entirely.

Honestly, Elisa had more consistent communication with Riza who had been in basic training at the time. Elisa knew each time Riza had gotten promoted, and while Riza had been careful to never use the term 'sniper', she'd also been aware when Riza had been eyeing a specialization based on her marksmanship scores. Yet she'd heard nothing from Roy since September.

Elisa vaguelly thought that Roy might just be avoiding her, although she couldn't fathom why. But Roy had undergone the same sort of alchemical training as her, so she knew that whatever he was doing, he was doing it for a reason.

So she'd resolved not to take his avoidance personally. Not when they'd be working closely together today to make this wedding go off without a hitch. After all, it was very probable that Roy was avoiding her for her sake, trying to keep the eyes of the military off another talented alchemist.

She'd wait to pass judgment until she knew for sure.

~::~

Roy was a horrible bastard.

No, really, he was scum.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. When he'd left to become a State Alchemist with the newfound awareness that Elisa was someone he could build a life with, he'd resolved to bury that thought. After all, he would no longer be in her presence and he'd have his whole career to focus on, it shouldn't be too hard to mentally relegate her to a childhood friend.

Except, Roy had made one major miscalculation. Elisa was–beyond a doubt–a writer. Which meant that, against all odds, she was frustratingly more charming over letters!

So he'd used the fact that he was traveling and so never in one place for long, to justify stopping the letter writing. But then Elisa had gone and used the money from her book publishing to establish a landline at their bakery and suddenly even that excuse was gone.

And that was another complication, the girl having written a successful novel that showed up everywhere Roy went. It was a hit with all the women he'd met, a story about a young Xingese girl who'd cut her hair and joined the army despite the laws preventing it, all to protect her family. It was rare to have a female lead in a story that was less about romance and more about action. And setting it in Xing was inspired as it allowed her to critique their government without ever upsetting anyone in Amestris.

Still, it did nothing to help Roy's constant attempts to get her out of his mind. Especially knowing that each book held pages of hidden alchemical knowledge. So he'd suffered and he'd ghosted and then he'd been plopped down right in front of Elisa, 19 months after leaving, fully expecting to be torn to shreds.

But she'd just…let it go.

Worse, she'd cornered Roy after the reception to ask if cutting contact had worked. If the powers that be had stopped looking her way as a possible recruit.

And Roy was a horrible bastard so he'd taken the out, agreed to exchange numbers, and left feeling somehow worse than if he'd just let her scream at him.

In the end he'd decided that if avoiding her was going to lead to so much turmoil then it wasn't the right strategy to employ. Besides, he was fine, the wedding was a brutal reminder that in truth it didn't really matter how he felt. Elisa's feelings for him were painfully, obviously, platonic. So, since nothing would come of it, it wouldn't really hurt to give her a call when he got back home. After all, he was trying to build up that womanizer persona. It wouldn't do for people to question the list of women's names in his book.

April 25, 1907

Elisa's twentieth birthday passed with little fanfare. True to the boys' predictions the military had long-since abandoned their Northern academy to focus their attention East. Sugar and butter became extremely scarce as rationing became an everyday fact of life. Elisa's book sales helped bolster them in the beginning but in time the cost of printing a book overtook the cost of selling one.

It also didn't help that citizens from the East were spreading out throughout the rest of the country.

Elisa had never properly understood the ramifications of a civil war before. She'd known about the Ishvalen extermination, about the mass loss of life. But she'd sort of assumed it had been an extermination similar to that of Nazi Germany. That Amestris had just decided to choose evil one day and the Ishvalens were the unfortunate result of that choice.

She was wrong.

For all that she'd never support the mass extermination of a people, Elisa was beginning to understand why the general opinion hadn't turned against Fuhrer Bradly with his choice.

In the beginning sides had been split, there were those who had visited Ishval, those who were friends with Ishvalens. People who knew of the teachings of Ishvala and would argue that if the military just stopped the people would lay down their arms. But that was back when it was a David-and-Goliath story. Back when the idea of a big government like Amestris turning its sights on a small region like Ishval just sat wrong with people.

As time passed and the war continued on, however, opinions started to change. After all, it was all fine and good to support the underdogs but when it was your son coming home in a body bag it was suddenly much more real. The Ishvalens had resorted to guerrilla warfare the likes of which Amestris had never seen. And since Aerugo was secretly supplying them arms the war just kept going.

What had originally been contained to just Ishval had spread to encompass all of Eastern Amestris. People from Liore were making their way through Elisa's town in the North and word from her friends was that the same could be seen all over.

Elisa wasn't surprised the Rockbells would leave to join the fray; they must have seen hundreds of refugees pass through Resembool in an attempt to flee the fighting.

And an influx of refugees with the rationing that was already occurring had led to even more tension. People were falling into an us and them mindset, where refugees were just seen as people taking food that should be going to us.

All that to say that the Frey family was not in a position to spend any money. So Elisa's twentieth birthday passed with a phone call from her sister, one from Roy, and a rice cake from her parents.

October 13th 1907

Things reached an all time low that Autumn. In a poor break of luck a blight had spread through all of the crops in the South East, severely depleting Amestris stores months before winter was set to begin.

The Ishavelns held that this was divine retribution from Ishvala set to protect his people and punish those who had done them harm.

Which only convinced the rest of Amestris that they'd sunk so low as to poison an entire country's food source, before winter.

The fighting did slow as supplies to the front dwindled, the entire country facing a famine. But that only meant that when it resumed it was with a sort of vicious anger that hadn't been present before.

Elisa had spent most of that Autumn traveling around the north, offering to apply insulating arrays for cuts of meat. She'd created the array when running the heater had proven too expensive. It was a simple matter to use her solar array to absorb the heat from the sun during the day and have it disperse through the house at night.

She'd taken care to explain that the array only worked if the sun was out that morning, but people would rather have half-a-fix than nothing, and since she only asked for payment in meat–something they could afford to part with–it had been a happy transaction for everyone.

She'd then cured the meat in a technique passed down to her in a different life. Setting it up to last them through the months of winter. She'd mailed some care packages out to her sister, Roy, Riza, aware that they were likely facing the worst of the food shortage.

It wasn't much, but as the war dragged on and Elisa stayed out of it even as her friends were thrust into it, it was at least something.

It didn't do much to offset her guilt at not enlisting, though.

February 3rd, 1908

When the order came it was both expected and painfully out of nowhere.

Part of Elisa had known it was on the horizon, after all, Maes and Riza had received promotions that had sent them out to the front-line back in September. Riza was now a Master Sergeant after finishing her 'specialized training' and had immediately been tapped to put that training to use. And Maes, as a Captain, was now perfectly set to lead squadrons from the field.

Elisa had known that with the two of them going it wouldn't be too long before Roy followed. But she spoke to Roy on the phone every Friday, and his tone was not that of a soldier expecting impending orders. So Elisa had allowed herself to relax, allowed herself to believe there was still more time.

She had forgotten, however, that just because a soldier wasn't expecting orders didn't mean they wouldn't be issued.

She should have seen it coming, what with the way the famine had played out–the Ishvalens had made a lot of ground that winter. Yet, it had been seven years since this mess had started. After seven years it wasn't hard to imagine that the fighting would continue for several more years.

So in the end she was still shocked when Roy said he'd been called to the war front.

More shocked when he asked her to hide that she was an alchemist for the next few months.

It was the first time that Roy had ever hinted that being scouted for the State Alchemy program could be a bad thing. And it was that more than anything that shook Elisa.

She didn't want to go to war. She didn't want to have to murder innocent people at the hands of the state. But she also didn't want her friends to go to war. She'd never properly thought about it, so focused on avoiding the military herself. But when Roy's voice had hitched when warning her, she'd suddenly been hit with the reality of what he was being called to do.

"You can–" leave, is what she wanted to say. What she would have said, if she wasn't certain there was some intelligence officer tapped into their call.

"–I really can't." A shaky breath, "but you haven't changed your mind, right? To the moon and back?"

And Elisa could hear the vulnerability in that question. Could hear the very real fear that what Roy was about to do would force Elisa to turn her back on him, to withdraw her support. And while everything in Elisa was against this order, she also knew that in the grand scheme of things how she felt would always pale in comparison to how her friend must be feeling. Elisa was so afraid of death that she'd chosen to sit at home while her three closest friends walked into an active warzone. She had no place to judge them. And it was important that Roy knew that.

"Of course. And, just, when you're out there, try to remember what you told me–" things will get better, they always do.

"–right. Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren't waiting around for my call next Friday," a forced chuckle. "And that you'll take care of yourself with everyone so busy."

Elisa's hands clutched tight around the receiver, sensing their conversation was drawing to a close and desperately trying to cling to this voice. The voice of a man, her friend, free from the weight of having taken a life. "Of course, and R-roy? I'm going to write you, okay? And I need you to write me back. Even if it's just one word, even if it's just that you're alive. I can't imagine how hard it'll–I just need something, okay?"

It was the first reference Elisa had made to that time that Roy had ghosted her and she hoped it was enough to guilt him into complying. She wasn't sure if writing would actually help. But if he was going to write her back then he'd need to read her letters. And maybe they'd do nothing, maybe they wouldn't help at all. But maybe they'd remind Roy that there was a life outside of the desert.

"...okay."

And since she was too much of a coward to follow her friends into hell, the least she could do was remind them that they weren't the devils.

No, that title belonged to Fuhrer Bradly, and those men who supported his plans.

Elisa wasn't sure what she could do to help Roy bring down his regime. But she knew she'd be doing something, she doubted this self-disgust would ever go away, otherwise.

~::~

03.09.1908

Morning R—

Well, it likely won't be morning when you read this letter. But you can tuck that salutation away until after a particularly hard night's sleep. If I was there with you and M— and Ri— I'd make sure to greet you guys every morning. Maybe not with a "good" morning, I can imagine that wouldn't go over well. But at least with a reminder that you'd made it through another day.

So, morning!

Things on our end have started to look up. True to my promise I've put my previous money-making occupation on hold. Although I've several ideas to run by you the next time you're in the north! But prices for ink and paper have been steadily dropping so I've taken to writing a new story, even got the publishing house to give me an advance and everything! I know you never read my first novel but I figured that even you can't be picky about reading material now. So I've sent you the first few chapters of the book. Feel free to pass them around your camp. I'm sure several people could use the escape a good book provides.

And I've got the originals with me, so don't worry if they get lost or torn or anything. Or if you need to torch them when you're done, I won't mind.

Anyway, write to let me know you're still alive.

Your friendly neighborhood author,

E—

~::~

04.02.1908

Dear E—

I wish I could pretend that my nights are restful enough for one of them to be ranked "particularly hard." Instead I find myself re-reading your letter every morning, while thanking whatever god or devil exists that you aren't here to say that greeting in person. It is my greatest regret that I can't pack M— and Ri— up and send them your way. I've always thought you were a genius but staying out of this mess is perhaps the smartest thing you've ever done.

I'm glad things are looking up, I've shared your work amongst those who would appreciate it. I've got to say, the idea of a secret world of magic users is rather fantastical. I've always thought you had a peculiar mind but I suppose that's just the mark of an artist? I've nothing I can, and even less that I care to, report. So I'm afraid I'll have to end things here.

R—

PS - please don't mention 'torching' again.

~::~

05.07.1908

R—,

I'm glad you think it smart of me, because I can't help but feel guilty that I'm here safe while you're all fighting for your lives.

G—– moved back home last week, I think she needed to be doing something to take her mind off of everything. Mom and Dad have given her full run of the bakery for as long as she'd like. You didn't hear this from me, but I think she's going to convince M— to start trying for a baby as soon as he gets back. That way she'll never truly be left alone, again.

I mean, yes, I suppose the idea of magic would be foreign to your logic-inclined brain. But I'd argue that to the layperson reading my books, magic doesn't look too different from Alchemy. And what young orphan doesn't dream of being whisked away from their life to something better? Besides, I've included some true alchemical lore in this story, as you'll see in these chapters. Something to peak the interest of logic-leaning thinkers, such as yourself. Go ahead and read it and give me your opinion. If you've nothing to say of reality, at least say something of fiction.

Yours,

E—

P.S. I'm an idiot. Don't worry, I've learned my lesson.

~::~

06.04.1908

Dear E—,

Don't.

Don't feel guilty. Very few things bring me comfort these days. The knowledge that you are as far as possible from this hell-hole is one of them. I know M— feels the same about G—–. And you should know you're the only person Ri— writes to, if you were here she'd have no connection to the outside world.

As for your story, I hardly think including references to the Philosopher's Stone makes it any less fantastical. Although I suppose from a marketing perspective, it's brilliant. Many a young alchemist would pick it up based on the title alone. That being said, it's also caught the eye of some of my fellow State Alchemists. So I might suggest a title change lest you have to field several questions on the topic.

Yours,

R—

~::~

07.01.1908

R—,

Fine. I can't promise I won't feel guilty. But I do promise to constantly remind myself that this is the outcome you'd prefer. If we can't have my prefered outcome of all of us in M— and G—–'s living room happily catching up over tea, then I guess I can settle for the world in which G—– and I stay as far away from bullet-fire as possible.

Ri— has offered to watch your back, anyway, and I know I could never compete with that woman. Honestly, I hope I live long enough to see her settle down. She'd make the most badass working mom!

I've taken your notes under advisement. I suppose I can settle for the "sorcerer's stone" although there's less history behind it. Still, you're right that I don't actually want to field questions. Especially when I don't even have answers. Here are the next few chapters. Thoughts?

Yours,

E—

~::~

08.17.1908

E—,

We're making headway. Base has moved from — to —, which is further East. I don't dare hope about anything anymore, but it's possible they may actually surrender soon. I can't imagine them continuing to fight now that momentum's back on our side.

What's the general opinion back home? We only know what comes down the wire and that's often diluted and twisted to fit the narrative. If you have any insight I'm open to hear it? Story's good, as per usual, I think he's getting into too much for an eleven year old, though. There can't possibly be a child with that much bad luck out there, right? Anyway, write soon.

Eagerly awaiting news,

R—

~::~

09.03.1908

R—,

I'm only telling you this because you asked. And because I made that comment a lifetime-ago about it being better to know the truth and worry, than be blindsided. But, well, the general opinion back home is that you're a hero. Everyone's talking about how you and the State Alchemists are drawing this war to a close.

No one is acknowledging how you're doing so, but people are mentioning you by name as a war hero. And I know, I know, but it's going to have to be another shackle you bare. The goal you've set doesn't afford you the chance to turn down good publicity. It's the only reason I bite my tongue every time I overhear.

I'm afraid I don't have any better news on the view of the war, either. We know the fighting has moved further East but I don't like how bloodthirsty everyone's become. The famine is still fresh on people's minds and they want their pound of flesh.

I think it's easy for Central, West and South to overlook the true cost of this war. They're not seeing the refugees fleeing. And I think it's much easier to ask for blood when you're not the one drawing it. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe my pessimism is just acting up. But I can't shake the thought that this war is going to get worse before it gets better.

As to the antics of eleven year old boys I can only say that I know without a shadow of a doubt that there are boys in Amestris right now capable of attracting as much, if not more, trouble. Anyway, these are the last few chapters. I tried to keep the ending open for a sequel, or more. Really depends how Amestris takes to the genre, I suppose. Hoping for your safe return!

Yours,

E—

~::~

10.12.1908

E—

You weren't wrong.

R—

~::~

11.08.1908

R—

You've mentioned before that your information is censored. So I'm not sure if you know this, but someone managed to smuggle out pictures of the war and it's begun to change public opinion. Specifically they caught that priest who r— a wh— f—– but was then sh— d—–. Turns out people are much less willing to support a massacre than a war. People from Eastern and Northern towns, who've been taking in refugees, have also started to speak up.

Stories are coming out, and they're not pretty. There are always those who support the military and I imagine they'll never stop singing your praises. But it will probably take years of work to improve your image in the North and East. Just a thought if you ever have a choice as to where you're stationed.

I've finished editing the book and the publishers think it should hit the shelves in the new year. If you're back by then would you consider attending a book reading with me? I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I think this is the best way I can support you. After all, how scary a soldier can you be if you read and edit childrens' books in your spare time?

I know it's probably the last thing you want to do, but you're always saying I'm smart. So please trust my intelligence when I say surrounding yourself with innocents could be very good for you. And, if it's too much, I'll let you make your escape, no questions asked. So, what do you say?

E—

~::~

12.16.1908

I'm coming home.

R—

January 31st, 1909

The second time Elisa visited Central City was to attend Roy's award ceremony. All of her friends had received a promotion for 'services in the war'. But Roy, along with select other State Alchemists, was to be publicly acknowledged for his war efforts. And as she'd yet to see any of her friends except Maes–who'd stopped by on his way to HQ to pick up Gracia–she'd been quick to accept Roy's invitation.

After all, she'd promised to support him. And knowing what she did about his feelings on the subject she knew he needed that support.

The ceremony was actually very nice, all things considered. Whoever wrote the speeches was very cognizant of the divide amongst the Amestrian people. The words "Ishval" or "Ishvalan" were never once uttered, instead it was always "the War" or "the Conflict." When it got time to praise the Alchemists they stuck with statistics related only to Amestrian soldiers.

"Ensured 100 men returned home safely."

"Helped secure the town where we'd lost 500 men to date."

"Was pivotal in bringing the Conflict to a close, saving inumerable Amestrian lives in the process."

It was masterful in how well it avoided mentioning the cost of this victory. And even more masterful in how it continued to sow the narrative that 'they' were not Amestrian. And while Elisa had known that a competent military state wouldn't just stand up and admit the war they'd been waging for the last eight years was wrong. She'd still sort of hoped they'd fail at making it all sound so justified.

Still, it was well decorated and moved at a fast pace. It wasn't too long until the soldiers were dismissed to their friends and family, and not long after that until they were all able to head out and retire at Maes' and Gracia's living room.

So, all-in-all, it wasn't the worst it could have been.

Something Elisa enumerated, at length, to Roy and Riza over her third glass of tequila.

It had been a last-minute decision on Elisa's part, to turn their mandatory attendance for the ceremony into a proper welcome home party. She'd gone to Maes first, to secure permission to bring alcohol into their home. And Maes, poor naive Maes, was quick to prove that for all he loved and worshiped Gracia, there were still things about her that he didn't know.

"I mean, if Gracia's fine with it. But I can't imagine she'd want you drinking alcohol."

So she went to Gracia next, her older sister who just needed reminding that—1. she couldn't drink once pregnant and 2. she likely wouldn't drink once a mother, to offer to pick up the liquor herself.

Riza had been both easier and harder to convince than Elisa had expected.

On the one hand, it turned out that for all that war forged relationships of steel it didn't necessarily lend one to being comfortable with drinking in the presence of her superiors. (Elisa was quick to point out that neither Maes nor Roy were her C.O. yet.) On the other hand, Riza had turned eighteen on the front, was nineteen now, and had never had an opportunity to experience that aspect of adulthood.

In the end it took Elisa promising to alchemically lock away their firearms before they touched a drop of alcohol to get Riza to agree. Although Riza would later reveal, once she was several drinks deep herself, that she was always going to agree. That Elisa was her closest girlfriend and she had been ecstatic at the invite. (Elisa would be quick to return the sentiment, crawling over several people on the couch to get to Riza and wrap her in a big hug.)

Which just left Roy.

Roy, who, for all that he liked to wear the persona of a party boy, was actually painfully, annoyingly, responsible. At least as far as Elisa was concerned. If she had to guess it had something to do with how their friendship had formed.

Roy had met her when she'd been fourteen years old and by virtue of Maes' fixating on Gracia, he had long-since taken it on himself to protect her.

It's why he'd gotten her that Alchemy internship, why he'd never mentioned her to his superiors, and why, she assumed, he'd always steered her away from any bars.

It wasn't like Elisa was an alcoholic, in fact she pretty much never drank. Her only experience with alcohol in this life had been some late-night experimentation with her sister after Maes had proposed and Gracia had realized she'd gotten engaged before she'd gotten drunk.

She didn't try to drag Roy to those places so she could drink. Rather, it was born from an intense desire to see Roy drunk. To see Roy, the man who was painfully in control of himself, truly let-loose. There weren't too many times the two of them had been in the same town since she'd turned eighteen, Elisa could think of maybe four, but the few times it worked out she'd tried to drag Roy along only to have the man always redirect them.

It had gotten so obvious that Elisa had called Madame Chris trying to make sure she hadn't accidentally stumbled onto some sort of trauma she didn't know about. After all, she didn't want to keep bringing up the possibility if it was hurting Roy. But his Aunt had just laughed and confirmed that Roy definitely drank and she assumed the issue was more about him not wanting her in a bar.

Which, yeah, okay, Elisa could see how it wasn't very 'done' for women of this time period to go to bars. Still, while he might be more receptive to them drinking if it was at her sister's house she wasn't going to risk him turning her down. Not after she'd gotten so far. Which was why she dealt with Roy by not telling Roy.

Instead, she walked him into the living room, locked the door and demanded he hand his firearm over to Riza.

"What?"

"She needs to disarm it so I can lock it away."

"...am I getting some sort of intervention?"

Elisa's answering smirk was not comforting. "No. But I am getting drunk. So no guns in the room. Them's the rules."

Roy locked eyes with Maes who just smirked, and knew he was not getting out of this one. "Fine," he grumbled, unholstering his gun and disarming it himself before handing it to Elisa, "now, where's the liquor? I need a drink."

Roy pretended not to notice Elisa's answering smile. He already knew he was screwed, no need to make matters worse for himself.

~::~

Roy was in hell.

A different sort of hell from the past year, to be sure. But still hell.

He'd known what to expect. Gracia had lamented to Maes years ago that her sister only ever cuddled her when drunk. So Roy had always known to avoid the combination of Elisa and alcohol. And, to his credit, he'd been rather successful there for a while.

But even he wasn't enough of a bastard to walk out of a party she'd planned because he was afraid of cuddling.

Well, lesson learned. Next time he'd walk out.

It had started out innocently enough.

She'd mainly been content to snuggle with Gracia and give Maes a high-five for being "the world's coolest future-dad." One memorable moment had her climbing over Roy to give Riza a hug, which had startled him, but had happened too quickly for him to give it much thought. But then Maes had apparently decided it was time for him and his wife to excuse themselves but couldn't think of a good way to remove Elisa from her sister. And, while Gracia had inadvertently warned Roy that Elisa was a tactile drunk, no one had warned him that Gracia was a mischievous drunk.

For that little minx had looked her sister dead in the eye and whispered, "hey, do you think all that flame alchemy means Roy runs hotter than most people?" And before he could fully register the connotation Elisa had stuck her hands under his shirt and begun feeling him up.

"You are warm." She'd muttered, headless of the blush spreading across his face. He'd shot a desperate look at Maes but he was already pulling Gracia towards their bedroom. And Gracia had the nerve to send him a wink. So he'd turned to Riza who seemed to be enjoying his discomfort a little too much. But was at least kind enough to jump in when Elisa made a move to settle across his lap.

"Elisa, didn't you once tell me that a girl should also never assume she has permission to touch a guy?"

Elisa pulled her hands back as if burned. Wide green eyes locked with Roy's with far too little distance between them. "I'm sorry, Roy," she whispered, "I shoulda asked." A single hand hovered over his abs. "Can I touch you?"

I'm in hell.

Riza burst out laughing which was thankfully enough to distract Elisa. "Riza! You're happy!" She tackled the blond in another hug, "I'm glad. Oh, we should play a game!"

And Roy would have agreed to anything if it kept Elisa distracted and on the other side of the couch. Which it did, right until Elisa had apparently reached her limit and had made the executive decision that Roy's lap was the ideal place to rest her head.

And while Roy knew it was just the alcohol and that Elisa hadn't treated him any differently than she had Gracia or Riza, his heart still leapt. And his hand moved to stroke her hair, almost without thought.

"She used to write about this, you know?"

Roy shot Riza a surprised look. They'd never actually talked about the contents of their letters. He knew Elisa wrote Riza just as Riza knew Elisa wrote him, but beyond the chapters of her book he'd never offered up a word of what Elisa had written. It had seemed too personal, in a way, too sacred. As if, by speaking the words aloud, that would somehow sully them. Even Maes, for all that he loved to talk about his wife, never gave them more than vague updates of home.

Riza continued, heedless of Roy's surprise, "this was her greatest desire, I think, the five of us in this room, together." And Roy did remember a reference to something of the sort. Still it sounded like Elisa went far more in depth with Riza.

"She told you her dreams?"

Riza startled out of her thoughts, eyes jumping up to meet Roy's. She contemplated him for a second before taking in his hand, still running through Elisa'a hair, and nodding to herself. "She did. My only family was fighting in the war and I'd never met her family, talk of home didn't make sense for us."

"So you spoke about the future."

"She spoke about the future. I couldn't see one past—" Riza closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "I could rarely bring myself to respond, but she never stopped writing. She spoke of a time when the five of us would all be together. Of a future where she'd introduce me to her sister. Of a world where that sister bore a little girl that we would all cherish." Riza smirked, "she promised to buy me a dog if I hadn't gotten one by the time I turned twenty-five."

It was at that moment that Roy made a startling realization.

He had always known, intellectually, that Riza was younger than Elisa–had stood beside her when the girl was sixteen and newly orphaned. But he'd watched Elisa play the part of the younger sister for nearly a decade and had gone to war with Riza. One did not watch the Hawk's Eye in action and think of her as anything short of an adult. So he'd never bothered to question their relationship, he'd known it had bloomed over two years of living together, but had never really thought about the dynamic that had formed. If he'd had to make a guess he would have assumed that Riza took the role she always did, the silent support, the sniper keeping an eye out for danger.

But now he was seeing their relationship in a new light. For all that he'd seen Elisa grow up it was Elisa who'd watched Riza grow up. It was Elisa who'd supported her when she'd made the decision to join the military. Elisa who she would have told about doing well-enough in marksmanship training to become a sniper. And it was Elisa who had written to Riza, even when she refused to respond, to constantly remind her of the future they were fighting for. In that moment it was painfully obvious that while Roy looked at Elisa and saw several things, Riza looked at her and saw a big sister.

"She spoke about you too."

Roy jolted out of his thoughts.

"She spoke about a world where you achieved your dreams and everyone was the better for it." He froze. "I responded to that one, sent a scathing reply. Told her she couldn't talk since she wasn't there to see what you were…what we were doing. I was certain I'd just destroyed our friendship. That was the day I went and confronted you."

"...what did she write back?" Because Roy knew her well enough to know that she did write back.

Riza smiled sadly, "she said that it's because of what we were doing that she was so certain of the future. That no one could walk through the hell we'd seen and come out unchanged. That you would take all that pain and suffering and turn it into a promise, a promise to be better. She said that we had traded in our innocence and would never again be able to miss the face of injustice. Really, it was quite moving," Riza's face remained as stoic as normal, but Roy watched as her eyes twinkled with mischief, "you should definitely have her write your opening address."

Roy's eyes drifted down to the girl in his lap. "What did I do to deserve her faith?"

"No, the question is what will you do to deserve it?"

Roy looked up and Riza watched his eyes fill with the same fire she'd seen at the cemetary a lifetime ago. "Everything."

"And I'll be right there,' Riza thought, taking the two of them in, "watching your back, just like I promised her."

March 25th, 1909

Roy didn't expect a gift. Technically it was his birthday, yes, but the reason he took a long weekend was to fulfill his promise to accompany Elisa to her first book reading.

And, it's not like they'd ever exchanged gifts before. The closest to a gift Roy had ever gotten Elisa had been her Alchemy apprenticeship–which had barely cost him a phone call.

So, Roy didn't expect a gift.

Elisa gave him one anyway.

"I call it a blacklight." She explained, showing him the array she'd drawn on the side of his state-issued flashlight. "I use alchemy to change the visible light of the flashlight to harmless ultraviolet light."

Roy furrowed his brow, "...and this useful, because?"

Smiling Elisa turned the lights off in her living room, before shining the 'blacklight' against a page of her newly printed book. Roy watched in astonishment as everywhere the light touched words flourished into existence only to disappear as soon as the light moved away.

"What? How?!"

"Fluorescence."

Roy furrowed his brow. He'd heard the term before, in reference to some alchemist somewhere making a tonic water glow blue. But he'd never properly studied it, didn't know there was a practical use for it.

"Fluorescence?"

"Yes, this ink absorbs the high energy waves of the blacklight which causes an electron to excite to a new energy state, then when it falls back down to the ground state it releases energy as a lower energy wave. In this case as visual-light so you can see the writing glow!"

Roy's lack of comprehension must have been clear in his silence because Elisa immediately turned the lights back on and reached for a paper to start drawing a diagram.

"See, this is the different energy levels of the—"

"—it's fine," he was quick to reassure her, "you don't have to explain. Just seeing it in use is amazing enough."

Now it was Elisa's turn to look confused. "But if I don't explain the theory behind it, how are you going to learn to draw the array?"

Roy's brain short-circuited.

"I mean, I suppose you don't really have to understand fluorescence to convert visible light to ultraviolet light. But you'd always only know half of the puzzle."

"Wait. You want to teach me how to draw this array. This," he held up his flashlight, "array?"

"...yes? That's my birthday gift to you."

Roy looked from the array to Elisa and back again, "...isn't this how you've coded your notes?!"

She nodded.

"Elisa! You, I can't–" he ran a hand through his hair, "–why now?!" Because, for all that Elisa trusted and supported Roy she never showed him her notes. Barely touched on the theory behind any of her arrays. Side-stepped all of his questions on the topic. That had been the basis of their relationship for years.

"Riza told me that you're going to be the last Flame Alchemist."

Roy froze.

"Since you've finally learned how to keep a secret, I figured I could let you in on one of mine."

"One?"

She shot him a smirk, "you've still got to make Brigadier General before I tell you the rest. Now, let me teach you this," she drew a circle, "so, you start by using the tectonic energy to pull in double your need amount of photons, then you—"

"—what's a photon?"

Elisa looked up at Roy in surprise and then cursed, reaching for another blank piece of paper. "Right. So a few years ago this guy wrote a paper on light where he talked about quanta which is really just another word for…"

Roy listened as Elisa broke down the science of her array. Listened as she explained a theory she claimed had been published in 1905, even as Roy knew she'd been coding her notes in this manner since 1904. He listened as she took a concept that was so cutting edge that it should be all but impossible to understand and broke it down into terms a teenager could grasp. He listened, and listened, and listened and in the end, he learned.

Learned how to create the array, but also learned that Elisa hadn't been paranoid in keeping her knowledge from him for all these years.

Roy didn't know how she knew these things, didn't buy for a second that she'd obtained it by reading articles like the rest of them. But he did know that no one could figure out how deep her knowledge went.

A fact Elisa had clearly always been cognizant of.

Which added a layer of meaning to this gift that Roy wasn't sure he liked.

"Why."

"Huh?"

"Before I asked 'why now', but now I want to know why you taught me this."

Elisa shot him a sad smile.

"I plan to release this array on my death so everyone can read my notes posthumously. But tomorrow's never promised, so I thought it was a good idea to have a back-up plan."

"You are not allowed to die." Roy shot out, tone as serious as Elisa had ever heard it.

She chuckled nervously to break the tension, "I'm not planning to die. No worries. Still happy living my life as a civilian." And it was true that Elisa wasn't planning to die, still strongly feared death. But she also worried about the fact that 'Elisa Frey' had never really existed in the original story.

It could be nothing but paranoia, perhaps she'd pass the next few years in peace–as it should be. But on the off chance she was onto something, she wanted to leave some sort of mark on the world. Some proof that she had existed. Not that she could explain this to Roy without coming across as psychotic.

"Good." Roy grumbled voice gruff. "Now, come on, I commited to watching you read a book to children for several hours."

Elisa got up to follow Roy out the door, thinking that maybe she'd been a little nihilistic. After all, she'd definitely left a mark on her friends' lives.

Right?

November 19th, 1909

It was her mother who brought it up first.

Elisa's latest novel had been a smashing success and she was halfway through the first draft of the sequel. From a financial standpoint she was set, and yet, her parents worried.

They weren't worried that Elisa wasn't dating, Mrs. Margaret Frey knew better than to worry about her in that regard. She'd had a sister who'd never married and was perfectly happy, and knew Elisa would be too, if she did end up that way. Although she was rather certain Elisa had a military man of her own in the future. No, it wasn't her love-life that worried Elisa's mother, it was the rest of her life.

Gracia was out in Central finally making a life with her husband, constantly ringing them to talk about all the things she had experienced. That Mustang boy was in the East living his own life, building connections, traveling through work. And Elisa was still at home, living vicariously through stories and phone calls.

She had always been a peculiar child, everyone says that the second child is always the handful. Your first child is calm enough to convince you that you can handle another one, and then your second child is wild enough to make you regret your hubris. Elisa was never wild, she was quiet and kind and content to follow after her sister in everything, but she was still a handful. Too smart by half and too proud to match, with an aversion to hugs that Gracia took personally. It was obvious from the day she could talk that their little girl would be wasted on the bakery.

So Margaret and Tomás discussed their options and ended up deciding to take a loan out–store as collateral–to send their daughters to complete all of their education. It was all of three days before Elisa's teachers confirmed what her parents always knew; their daughter was a genius. But for all that she was a genius Elisa had always been content to spend her days with her family, blissfully unaware of her potential.

Margaret had been a little skeptical when that Mustang boy had introduced her daughter to alchemy. Relatively certain that this would be another topic she would breeze through with no effort and then promptly place on the shelf to be forgotten. But, instead, it had piqued their daughter's interest, and Margaret and Tomás had been ecstatic to watch their youngest finally find her passion. It was why they had fully supported Gracia's idea to send Elisa to her apprenticeship when she turned sixteen. They knew Elisa wasn't the kind of person to leave on such a journey on her own.

And now she was twenty-two and still stuck at home with her parents.

They'd been grateful for the help in the beginning, with the war straining their finances and then with the famine. Having Elisa there to solve problems with her alchemy had been a huge boon. But the war had been over for a year now and their daughter showed no signs of starting to live her life.

So Margaret had brought it up, the idea that Elisa should go traveling.

"I've been told that's typically the next step for your field. First you're an apprentice learning from a master, then you're a journeyman learning from the world, and one day you settle down to teach."

"I have journeyed," Elisa was quick to point out, "remember? I used to go out to the homes of the neighboring towns during the famine."

"Bah, more towns in the North, that's not a journey! Why not go East to visit your friends? You have a steady income, you can afford to travel."

"But you and dad–"

"–are not so old that we can't enjoy a house to ourselves."

Elisa blushed scarlet but ultimately agreed with her mother. Only, Riza had been quick to answer her call and inform her that Roy and she have had to travel all across Amestris to recruit new Alchemists for the program. What with most of their Alchemists resigning following the end of the war. An assignment that was likely to last another year.

And Elisa could have used that as an excuse to stay home. But with that statement from Riza she knew the world would soon be thrust into turmoil, again. If ever there was a time to travel, now was it.

So she told her parents she'd call them when she reached her first town, packed a drawstring bag with the essentials, and headed off to the first eastern town her train would hit.

Perhaps nothing would come of this journey, but she had money and time, surely there was someone she could help?

May 5th, 1910

"Help, please, I need help!" A voice desperately screamed out along the courtyard. Elisa looked up from her work to see a young Ishvalan woman pleading with people to give her aid. Elisa glanced at the well she'd been trying to fix all morning–it had collapsed the night before and the innkeeper agreed to waive her room fee if she could fix it–and then looked back at the woman.

In the end it wasn't much of a choice, the well could keep. Besides, it was hours of work away from being functional.

"Hi, miss," she called, waving a hand, "what's the problem?"

The lady locked on Elisa and immediately ran over. "My son," she answered, leading Elisa away in a brisk jog, "he was out playing and hadn't returned for lunch so I went to fetch him. He'd collapsed! He'd collapsed and no one had told me, he's been out in the sun for hours and I–" she choked back a sob.

Elisa cursed as she stumbled across the boy, maybe five years old. They were about fifteen minutes from the slums in an area that was more desert than city, there was no way he'd led himself out here. Pushing that thought aside she focused on the boy, dropping to the floor to look him over. She was no doctor but her first life had been in the tropics so she knew enough to diagnose heat stroke. And one look at his face showed he was already dangerously dehydrated.

"He needs water," Elisa called to the woman, cursing the fact that she had emptied the last of her flask ten minutes ago. Truly, he needed ice.

"I sent my husband to the well, but he wasn't there when I retrieved you…?"

"The well collapsed, it's drawing up nothing but silt, if he heard then he must have left to ask around. Is your home nearby? He needs to be moved out of the heat."

The woman shook her head in distress. "We don't have a home here. We arrived today. I left my son to play with the other children while I asked around for work, I—" Elisa stood up to hug the weeping woman trying to offer her some comfort.

"The inn I'm staying at should have enough water to spare," Elisa consoled, "your husband should have some success if he tries there. And your son can recover in my room."

The woman froze in her hug before pulling back to shoot Elisa a look of true despair. "They would never allow him inside, they think it a disgrace to even acknowledge our existence."

Elisa faltered, eyes shooting down to the small child desperatly panting. She wanted to deny this mother's words, wanted to claim that surely people wouldn't be so cruel. But people didn't make statements like that without having experienced it themselves, several times over. Which meant that bringing the boy to the inn wouldn't work, and it was unlikely his father would have success begging for water.

And time was of the essence when it came to heatstroke.

"There is something I can do," Elisa began haltingly, aware of exactly what she was about to offer. "Your son needs to cool down and rehydrate, and I can make both water and ice."

"You can?! Please! Do so!"

"I can," Elisa agreed, reaching for her pocketbook, "but it would require me utilizing this," she turned the page to show the mother the array.

The mother's eyes widened before looking at her suffering son and hardening. "Do it." She whispered. "Please."

Elisa nodded and began sketching out a new array with her pen. She'd theorized about freezing water-vapor back when she'd first learned alchemy but now it seemed she'd actually be attempting it. In theory it shouldn't be too hard, but the air around them wasn't exactly humid. Honestly, it likely would have been simpler for Elisa to shed some blood and transmute that into water–since it would have been some 60% water, anyway–but she doubted that would fly with this woman.

So engulfed in her calculations was Elisa that she failed to hear the boy's father arrive, failed to hear the heated debate the two parents broke into. But she definitely heard the loud "No!" that seemed to stretch across the shifting sands.

"No, my wife," the man repeated, reaching for the crying woman. "We can't rely on such blasphemy," he shot a glare at Elisa, "it is forbidden."

Elisa looked down at the half drawn circle in her book, then looked at the small child, now shivering. She turned to the father and asked in the most non-confrontational voice she could muster, "do your scriptures truly forbid you from drinking water formed through alchemy?" Her eyes flickered back to the child. "At the cost of your life? That is one of Ishvala's commandments?"

Elisa was banking on the fact that it wasn't. Banking on the idea that this issue with Alchemy was due to the political lense with which their most recent religious leaders had been interpreting their texts. Or born as a word-of-mouth cautionary tale following the fall of the neighboring desert kingdom of Xerxes. But if she was wrong, if Alchemy had really been outlawed in their books, then she knew she'd be forced to watch this young boy die.

The mother turned to give her husband a pleading look and Elisa watched as he pushed through his anger to truly consider her question.

"...it is not a commandment, no. But that does not mean it is permitted, either. That is for an Elder to decide, for we are not trained to interpret the scripts of Ishvala."

"Then, can you get an Elder?"

"I am here," a calm voice carried over the wind. Elisa quickly turned to see an old man walking towards them. "I heard talk of two new wanderers in need of help, and have come to offer my services." Elisa was calmed to see the small smile he sent her way. This man, she knew, would at least be open to talking with her. His eyes flickered to her half-drawn array then back to Elisa, a single brow raised.

She wasted no time explaining.

"He has heat stroke and is severely dehydrated, he needs water and ice and he needs it now. Your nearest well just collapsed, and it could take hours to clear. But I can form ice and water right here." She motioned to her array.

"You know it is the way of Ishvala to reject Alchemy as a sign of pride. It is considered blasphemous to believe that we could create a form better than that which the Creator has designed."

"I'm not changing any forms," Elisa pleaded, hoping to get through, "the water is already in the air. I'm just using alchemy to gather it all together. If I gather it tightly enough that's just ice. But ice is still water."

The Elder continued to look at her, seemingly in thought.

"Does your religion not have a clause for preserving life?" She pleaded, taking a stab in the dark. "Something about life being precious or the sanctity of life?"

"Live by the statutes, do not die by them." The Elder murmured looking at Elisa with new eyes. "Very well, save the boy. For all we know it is Ishvala who has led you to his side."

Not needing to be told twice Elisa was quick to sketch her array on her flask before activating it and drawing water vapor in from the air. The air around everyone grew noticeably drier but red eyes were just fixated on a flask slowly filling.

"Here," she called, handing the flask to the Mother who shot her a wobbly smile before immediately feeding it to her son.

Without pausing Elisa then drew another array in her notebook and started pulling in the water molecules, packing them in as tightly as they would go. She handed the ice to the father who knew what to do. Elisa continued to form ice as they walked towards the Elder's tent, constantly handing it off to replace the blocks that had already melted.

An hour later when the boy had returned to a normal hue Elisa finally stopped her transmuting, dropping to the tent-floor in exhaustion. She was suddenly very glad she'd never gone into surgery, having to concentrate for an hour straight lest a young child die was already too much for Elisa. Having to do that for several hours would have destroyed her.

The Elder studied the array the young girl had left casually opened with a furrowed brow.

"Your work, it does not look like that which plagued our homeland." He spoke, grabbing her attention. "This image in particular," he pointed to the character controlling the energy-input, "while not quite right, almost resembles a holy symbol in our texts."

Elisa stared at the 日 kanji she'd adapted as a symbol for solar energy all those years ago. "It means 'sun' or 'day'," she began slowly, trying to be courteous to the Elder, "I ask for energy from the sun to power my work, where most Amestrians rely on energy from the Earth." It was the simplest way she could think to explain it. And it must have been right, because the Elder's face broke into a smile.

"Ah, then Ishvala truly is working through you." At her look of confusion he motioned to her circle, "your symbol shares more than just a passing look with our own. Ishvala is the Creator of all things. And he pulls from life, the sun, Viam, to create those things." Elisa nodded, taking in his words.

"...you know, the scriptures did speak of a child of the sun appearing when our need was greatest."

Elisa's eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. "That's not me, sorry, I'm not a savior or a prophet, or whatever!"

"I never told you they were a prophet."

"...they're always a prophet. Sometimes minor, sometimes major, but always a prophet."

"Hmm," the Elder hummed before continuing. "Then, can you swear on this boy's life that you do not come with knowledge of the future?"

And, really, what could she say to that.

"...I can swear that it would make me the worst type of prophet to have foreseen the tragedies that awaited your people, and done nothing to end it."

Elisa dropped her eyes to the floor, very aware of the gazes on her back.

"I'm afraid I disagree," the Elder continued as if Elisa hadn't just subtly confirmed knowledge of the future. "I believe that would merely mean you are at the beginning of your journey. You have seen what innaction has wrought and, as such, have now been compelled by Ishvala to take action."

"...I am not a prophet." Elisa insisted, voice growing slightly hysterical. She wasn't a prophet. She couldn't be.

"Perhaps," the Elder conceded with a smile that did nothing to calm her nerves. "But you dropped everything to help a child in need. You asked permission of both the boy's mother and myself before employing your alchemy out of dereference to our beliefs. You successfully argued theology without belittling our views. And you have not once pressed for any of our names. You may not have come to prophesy of the future, but as I gaze upon you, I still see the future."

Elisa kept her eyes locked on the floor, even as a blush spread across her cheeks. "...I thank you for your kind words."

"Where do you plan to journey next, my child?"

She shrugged.

"I've not really been following a plan. I just want to help, so wherever needs me next, I suppose."

"Would you be opposed to staying here? Settling in amongst us?"

Elisa's eyes widened in surprise. "Your people wouldn't mind?" There had been, perhaps, twenty pairs of red eyes that had looked at her as she'd made her way through the slums. None of the looks had been particularly positive.

"Oh, I'm certain they'd be opposed. That's why I asked. I think your presence could go a long way in easing long-term opposition. Something that I'm sure you could see the virtue of, even if you are 'not a prophet,' as you say."

Elisa balefully glared at the Elder because she could see the virtue of improving Ishvalan-Amestrian relations, especially if the future ended up the same as before with Roy and the Amestrians trying to help rebuild Ishval. And maybe trying to smooth the anger and pain of a recently displaced people hadn't been her intention when setting out, but maybe that Elder also had a point about being compelled to action.

"...alright. If you really think it's for the best, I'll stay."

"Wonderful, I can't wait to see the works Ishvala will accomplish through you!"

Elisa gave a strained smile, painfully aware that this man definitely still thought she was a prophet.

February 12th, 1911

The first few months of living with the Ishvalan refugees was hard. Elisa hadn't realized just how reliant she'd become on Alchemy until she suddenly wasn't allowed to use it. There were several life skills from hand-washing clothes to darnishing socks that she'd never bothered picking up after Roy had given her that first textbook.

And it didn't help that she still wasn't completely sold on the idea that Alchemy actually stood in conflict with the teachings of Ishvala. Elisa could see how it would be arrogant to a group of believers to say, "I don't need to ask my God for a bowl, I can make one myself!" But if a potter is allowed to make a beautiful bowl and exclaim, "praise be to God!" then it followed that an Alchemist should be allowed the same–as long as they gave credit to Ishvala in the end. Not that Elisa brought this up with anyone but the Elder, who was more than willing to debate theology with her for hours.

Still, she had agreed to live amongst their people and they had so little of their culture left that Elisa would not be the one to challenge things. Especially not when her very presence had been a challenge.

So, yes, the first few months were hard. But, over time, it became easier. She made friends, picked up bits-and-pieces of their language, and helped set them up as best she could. With the way the laws were set up it wasn't actually possible for anyone to claw their way out of the slums. Ishvalans were technically Amestrian citizens, when their kingdom had been annexed fifty years ago they'd been naturalized. But in order to work in Amestris you had to prove you were a citizen. And while one look at the white hair and red eyes of an Ishvalan should have been enough, employers were within their rights to ask for paperwork.

The kind of paperwork that didn't survive fleeing an active warzone.

In theory you should be able to just apply for that paperwork in Central. But when Elisa had called Maes to ask about it, he'd confirmed her fear that they'd just demand to see other paperwork, first. A birth certificate being the chief amongst them. So they couldn't be hired into new jobs, couldn't apply for a business permit to start their own jobs, and couldn't buy property even if they did accrue wealth.

Elisa was at least able to help on the job front. While most employers would demand citizenship paperwork under the guise of "protecting their interests" it wasn't actually a legal requirement. So Elisa was able to secure businesses in her own name and then hire Ishvalans to run them for her. She wanted to do the same for housing, buy an apartment building and then rent rooms to the refugees at no profit. But Elisa was just one person and while her book sales had been lucrative they had not been that lucrative. Perhaps in time, if she continued to put out sequels and if interest in her work spread, perhaps one day she could make that a reality.

But for now she had to content herself with what she had already accomplished. And, for all that it was hard work Elisa was content. It was a very different life than she'd imagined when she'd set off from home, but it was a really fulfilling life too. One she could see herself fully embracing.

Elisa had never given much thought to what she would do after the story. After she told Roy the full truth behind her past. But she was starting to see a vision of it, an image of Roy and her working side-by-side to try and give back to these people, who had lost so much and could still find it within themselves to smile.

So, yes, Elisa was content. Which, of course, meant everything had to go wrong.

It had crept up unexpectedly. There had been a mild stomach bug going around the slums. Plenty of people weren't infected so Elisa had thought nothing of it. Then one of the children had taken an extreme turn for the worst. Elisa wasn't a doctor, had tried–and failed–to get a doctor to visit, but she wasn't a doctor. She had no idea what to do to help the child, could only stress the importance of rehydrating her as she was losing fluids rapidly through her diarrhea.

In the end there was nothing to be done.

When the next person fell severely ill, Elisa wasted no time in reaching out to Roy. She explained the situation as best as she could and begged him to send medical aid. He'd said he'd try and call in some favors and Elisa had thanked him before rushing back to her 'patients.' The members of the community forced her to take breaks often, all-but force feeding her water and making her step out frequently to get breaths of fresh air. Elisa hadn't been worried about getting infected, there were several people who hadn't contracted the bug even in its mild form, and Elisa knew enough about germs to avoid contracting them.

But, Elisa wasn't a doctor.

If she was she would have recognised the disease for what it was and never drank the water she had been offered. As it stood, however, Elisa realized she'd messed up right around the time she collapsed to the floor.

Vaguely, she could hear people yelling and could sort of sense that her body was being moved. But it was a realization completely void from Elisa's mind which had immediately slipped into darkness.

Time passed in a blur after that.

Elisa would have bouts of clarity; blurry images of worried-filled red eyes peering at her, the vague recollection of the Elder praying in the corner, and, then, darkness.

Around the fifth time this had happened, Elisa had a thought.

Is this how I die?

Her thoughts were far from lucid, and pain made everything hard to grasp, but the idea took root.

Her seventh time coming to consciousness she could no longer open her eyes.

It makes sense. Elicia. Elisa and Gracia. Sis would name her daughter after me if I died. Or Maes would.

She lost count how much time passed before the next time she regained consciousness long enough to think. Only noted that sounds had started to dampen.

And Riza, codename Elizabeth–Elisa and Beth. She chose to carry my names with her.

The final time she awoke it was to a fleeting touch on her forehead. No sounds, no sight, but the barest of pressures. And a single, resounding thought.

…Roy. Sorry, I know you said I couldn't die. Still, we had fun, right?

And then her thoughts stopped.

Darkness remained.

Chapter 3: State Alchemist

Chapter Text

April 25th, 20XX

"You're always stuck in your lab, when are you going to get out and enjoy life?"

"I am enjoying life," she muttered towards the phone, reaching for her pipette. "I went to school for several years so I could spend the rest of my days getting paid to 'enjoy life'."

"You know that's not the same! You're enjoying your job, you're ignoring your life."

— cursed quietly to herself. This was the problem with childhood friends, they couldn't be bothered to buy your bullshit.

"I know things have been tough ever since your brother–"

"–don't."

"I'm just saying," the voice crackled over the speaker, "you know better than anyone that tomorrow isn't promised."

"Stop. I mean it."

"...okay. Fine. Hide behind your science. But I won't buy your act. I remember the little girl who used to write stories about traveling the world and falling in love. What happened to her?"

"Her little brother got shot by an undiscerning soldier while 'traveling the world'."

"Shit." A breath. "Sorry. I was just told he had an accident–god I must've sounded so callous."

"It–" it wasn't fine. It was far too raw to be fine. But that's not what her friend needed to hear, "–is what it is, hey I'll call you back, okay? Really not mad, but this next step requires my full attention."

"Yeah, of course. No worries. Love you!"

"Ditto."

The line went dead.

She took a deep breath before pausing, she'd been so focused on her conversation that she hadn't registered the low hissing in the room. Standing up to investigate caused her entire world to spin. She placed a steadying hand on the lab bench before turning to the sound–a leaking gas line.

"How long have I been breathing that in?" Was her final thought before her legs gave out and darkness rushed to greet her.

February 14th, 1911

The first thing Elisa noticed after waking was the glaring brightness of the hospital's lighting. The next was Roy slumped over, asleep by her bedside, gripping her hand.

She spent the next few minutes trying to puzzle through what had occurred, to no avail. Frustrated, she reached for her chart, but in doing so woke Roy.

"Wha?" Bleary eyes locked on the image of Elisa trying to crawl to the end of her bed, before suddenly sharpening.

Roy stood up, leaned forward, and pulled her into a hug.

"Uh, h-hey," Elisa murmured, unused to the contact. "Fancy seeing you here."

A watery laugh, and a tighter grip was Roy's only response. After a couple of seconds of him not letting go Elisa felt herself relaxing into it. She'd never been big on hugs, much to Gracia's disappointment, but hugging Roy was different . Her head was able to rest comfortably on his chest, and her ear fell right over his heart—the sound of which was slowly lulling her back to sleep. All-in-all, it was kind of…nice?

Eventually Roy pulled back. He didn't bother justifying the hug, just handed Elisa her chart and sat back in his chair to observe her.

Elisa was a little flustered by the fact that he hadn't said a word to her, yet. And that he was just staring at her, intensely, while she read through her chart. But eventually she came across a word that pushed Roy's odd behavior right out of her mind.

" Cholera? " She looked at Roy for confirmation, he nodded. "I don't? Isn't that from touching poop ?!"

And that was the point where Roy finally broke his silence, voice thick with barely conceived anger. "It's contracted through contaminated water. Someone didn't feel the need to report when the sewage system failed so it was able to overflow and poison the well."

Elisa gripped the chart so tightly her knuckles went white. She'd bet anything the oversight hadn't been accidental, and that only one well had ended up poisoned. "Will they be punished?" she murmured.

Roy's eyes darted away from her and something like shame entered his gaze. "Yes, but, Elisa, there's something else–"

At that moment the doctor entered, forcing Roy to cut himself off. "Ah Ms. Frey, I see you're up and about. See, Colonel, I told you your fiancée would be fine!"

Elisa schooled her face into one of neutrality even as she internally burned with a million questions. She turned to face Roy and raised a single brow.

'Fiancée? ' It seemed to say.

'I'll explain later.' His steady gaze echoed back.

"Right, well, I just need to give you a quick check-up and I'll be out to let you two catch up," he gave them a wink.

"...that's fine." Elisa muttered, taking in the military uniform under her doctor's medical coat and putting together an idea of where she was. "This is the military hospital, right?"

"Of course! Best in the East!"

"...and I'm being treated here because I'm engaged to an officer?"

"Just about, normally it wouldn't have been allowed, since you're not actually married. But when it came out you were on your way to enlist, everyone was happy to let it slide."

"Mhm, enlist. I definitely talked about doing that," she reached over to grip Roy's hand to hide how hers had begun to shake, "right Roy ?" She hoped he could hear both the anger and question in her tone. Even as she hid it from the doctor.

"Yes, dear. I'm sorry to say you'll have to miss this year's Exam because of your recovery. But Command has already assured me your name's been added to the list for next year."

"Oh," her voice squeaked. "How…kind of them." And Elisa cut herself off there, not sure how much more she could say before having a meltdown.

Why does the military know about me?!

True to his word the doctor finished up quickly and left them alone. Elisa wasted no time in turning to Roy, "why did–" Roy made some sort of military hand sign. Elisa couldn't read it at all, but it was odd enough to give her pause "–didn't you tell me you were coming to visit?" Elisa corrected, shooting Roy a questioning look. At his nod she continued. "I would have cleaned if I'd known you were stopping by!"

"It was a last-minute decision. I was planning to just send the doctor, but then Lt. Hawkeye pointed out that you were probably lonely up here, all by yourself. And what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't stop by after that ?" While talking Roy had carefully opened his black book of names and flipped to a new page, starting to write.

'The room is bugged .'

"Oh. Riza always was the smart one of you two…"

'Give me a verbal excuse to get close.'

"...I try to hide it, but I'm always lonely when not in your arms." Elisa winced at her horribly cliché line.

"Well, I'm here now, let's rectify that." And Roy pulled her into a hug, leaning down to whisper softly in her ear, causing Elisa's skin to prickle. "This was a targeted attack," he confirmed. "I suspected it might be, so I was ordered to take some men and investigate. The doctor diagnosed everyone with Cholera, but the treatment required clean water and the entire water supply had been poisoned."

Elisa nodded, running her hands along the spine of Roy's back, for something to do. "Th-there wasn't much to be done," he faltered for a second, but gave Elisa an encouraging squeeze when she stopped, "I could use my flames to boil the water but that would require pulling it up from the well, boiling it, and then letting it cool to a drinkable temperature. For every bucket."

Which was definitely not feasible when trying to treat a whole quadrant of a city.

"I also didn't have the means to test other water sources to confirm they weren't contaminated."

"What did you do?" Because clearly something had been done.

"It was you, actually." Elisa lifted her head in surprise, locking eyes with Roy. She vaguely noted that this close she could make out gold specks in his irises. Roy made a choking noise before placing a hand on the back of her head to force it back down onto his chest. He then continued to speak, hand now stroking her hair. "One of the refugees mentioned you'd once saved a boy by pulling water from the air. He said the array was still on your flask."

She made a noise of acknowledgment.

"I've been going through your notes–knew I could use it. So I evaporated with fire then condensed with your array. Water was fine for everyone else, but you were—" he squeezed her tight, "your only chance was a fully stocked hospital."

"And the only good one for miles was on base."

"Right. So I got… creative , with the truth. But while you were being treated one of the men reported what the refugee had said about your array."

"...okay?"

"Remember the rarity of elemental alchemy? I got a phone call from Central Command two hours later, complimenting me on finding someone of your talent, and reassuring me your name has been added to next year's list of applicants."

"I don't have to go though, right?"

"...no, technically, they can't force you." Roy tightened his grip, "but they can make your life very difficult."

"Roy… why is the room bugged?"

Roy pulled back and shot her a big (fake) smile, speaking in a volume clearly meant to be caught by those listening in, "so, what's this I hear about you making friends with a bunch of refugees?"

"U-uh," Elisa blinked, trying to adjust to both the sudden change in conversation and the loss of warmth that was Roy's arms around her. "Yes, um, Elder asked for my help several months back and the more I helped the more work that seemed to need doing."

"And you've been starting up businesses?" His voice was jovial, curious, but Roy's eyes were dead serious. And Elisa was beginning to get an inkling of where this was going, dread settling in her stomach.

"R-right. Nothing crazy, a tailor shop, a small restaurant."

"Seems pretty big to run by yourself."

Her throat grew dry. "I h-have some good help watching over them for me." Her eyes peered into Roy's silently begging for her guess to be wrong.

"Hmm, that sounds good. I hope their paperwork is in order, though. I really shouldn't be telling you this, but a law might be coming down the pipeline in a few months. Any company that can't account for the citizenship of its employees is going to be shut-down and the owner's charged quite a fine."

Elisa closed her eyes in defeat.

She felt Roy reach over and squeeze her hand in support. She squeezed back, even as it felt like her life was crumbling before her. If this was months ago she would have shrugged the threat off. Callous, perhaps, but she'd have reasoned the refugees had survived in the manga without her.

But Elisa had made a life with these people, shared their meals, learned their names . She could no more abandon them than she could Gracia. Not over something as pathetic as fear . Not when this was a law that would prevent any good Samaritan from hiring them. Besides, she was currently sitting in the hospital, clearly death could come for her even as a civilian.

She took a deep breath. "That's interesting. Does this law have a lot of traction? Is there anything to be done to stop it?" 'Yes.' Her question told those who were listening. ' Yes. You win. I'll do it.'

"Hmm, time will tell. I think it could still go either way."

And if Elisa didn't already hate this government for what they were making her do, she'd hate them for making Roy be the one to deliver the news. This could only be some cruel test of loyalty. Or perhaps a method to drive a wedge between two powerful alchemists? Either way, they'd miscalculated.

Elisa had long since resolved to help Roy from the shadows, to build up his image and prepare his way for when Amestris and Ishval would work together. But if the military was going to drag her kicking-and-screaming into their ranks, well, that changed things.

You idiots just invited a trojan horse into your camp.

February 22nd, 1911

It was another week before Elisa was let out of the hospital. Roy spent the entire time by her side, another perk of his lie–he could take sick leave to 'tend to his family.' Elisa knew they'd have to clear up the misunderstanding eventually, probably fake a public falling-out for the bastards in charge, but for now she let herself enjoy it. Roy was one of her closest friends but so much of their friendship existed in letters and phone calls, it was nice to have the chance to just be together.

Still, all good things must come to an end and Elisa's discharge marked the end of Roy's mini-vacation.

"You'll have a year to study," he explained as he escorted her to her apartment. "You can stay here or–"

"–I'll stay here." It would help to see the people she was doing this for.

"Alright. I'll be calling you weekly and checking up once a month. No one should question it, with our cover."

"But what about your sisters? Your network?"

"Riza can always make some friends."

"...I suppose, but your notes–"

"–Prophet?" A voice called across the street, startling Elisa. She whipped her head around to see Alzeik making his way to her, a look of surprise on his face.

"Elder!" She returned with excitement.

"Prophet?" Roy whispered in her ear. Elisa ignored the chill that ran down her back.

"Names are sacred to them, he's not going to call my name in front of a stranger I may not have given such an honor to."

"But, Prophet ?"

"...it's a long story."

The Elder quickly crossed the street, eyes briefly flicking to Roy before settling on Elisa. "By Ishvala it is a miracle . Do you know how close you came to Paradise, girl?" Elisa didn't actually know, she knew it was bad enough for Roy to commit an offense worthy of a court-martial to get her proper care (for the military did not take kindly to fraud.) But Roy had been surprisingly tight-lipped about what he'd walked into when arriving in the slums.

"I'm assuming pretty close if you're tossing around that term." After all, 'miracle' meant something very different when you were the religious leader of your people. 20-some of them, or not.

The Elder shot her a bemused smile. "We'd thought you dead, had already sent someone to start digging your grave. It was when that one," he nodded to Roy, "pulled you in his arms that you chose to take another breath." Elisa froze.

I died?

She shot a look at Roy who was carefully studying the buildings around him.

Roy watched me die?

"Say what you want about your purpose, child. But you were ready to depart and Ishvala sent you back, if that does not make you a Prophet, then I do not know what does."

Elisa sighed. She had long since given up on convincing Alzeik that she wasn't this Child of the Sun from their scriptures. Still, she doubted Ishvala would send her back to become a State Alchemist, and she told Alzeik as much.

"Why not?"

"Wha?! It was you who told me Alchemy was blasphemy? A direct insult to Ishvala and all his creations?!"

"Yes, but you've always held Ishvala would have created Alchemy too, no?" Elisa could feel Roy's gaze on her.

"I mean, y-yeah. If Ishvala created all things then it holds he created Alchemy, too."

"And you've argued that Alchemy allows one to truly appreciate the majesty of Ishvala's skills."

Roy's gaze grew heavier, causing Elisa to shift on her feet. She'd never imagined having one of these theological debates in front of people. "R-right," she continued, trying to ignore Roy's stare. "To use Alchemy you have to truly study how things are made. An apprentice is always in awe of their Master."

"Then, why would you not believe Ishvala could have a purpose for you as an Alchemist?"

"B-but you believe–"

"–it matters not what I believe," the Elder said in that tone that meant he was about to drop a nugget of truth that Elisa likely wasn't ready to hear. "You can't judge your life by the convictions of others. We must each, in our time, decide what we believe is right." Roy stiffened behind her. "If you pursue your beliefs through kindness and love then as certain as the rising sun harkens a new day, so too will your actions bring about a brighter tomorrow."

Elisa fell into a deep bow. " Ashkuruk vir jy wysheid," she murmured. 'I thank you for your wisdom.'

" Gaan ," Go. "I will spread the news of your recovery. But for now your Maelm looks like he has questions for you." Elisa blushed at the term.

"He's not my—" she stopped herself. Technically, by the laws of Ishvala, Roy was her Maelm . In so much as he had always given aid when asked, had even now angled himself to watch her back. In the literal definition of ' Protector ' Roy fit the bill. But there was just a connotation to that word.

Alzeik shot her a knowing look before turning to leave. But not before addressing Roy for the first time. "You take care of her, Maelm . Alright? This one has all the brains Ishvala could give, but none of the sense."

"Hey!"

Roy slung an arm around her shoulder, which really was not helping to convince the Elder they were just friends.

"I give you my word, Elder. I'll care for Elisa for as long as she allows me the honor." And maybe Roy knew more about Ishvalan culture than he'd let on, because his use of her name made that statement far more formal than these two had any right to be.

The Elder locked eyes with Roy before nodding, "I am called Alzeik, and I witness your promise."

Roy's eyes widened at learning the man's name. Swallowing, he just offered. "Roy Mustang."

Alzeik stared into Roy's eyes, red meeting black, a thousand years in his gaze. "I know." The words dropped like a stone and Alzeik turned to walk away, fully aware of what he'd just done.

~::~

" What have you been getting up to?" Roy all but yelled as soon as they entered her apartment.

"What?!"

"That! The Eld– Alzeik, " he said, as if surprised he had the right.

"You know I've been helping out? I've been at this for months, of course I made some friends."

"Elisa, that wasn't friendship. That man has adopted you."

"I mean, I suppose in the way that he's adopted all of the camp. He is the Elder, after all."

"No," Roy insisted, not sure how she couldn't see this. "That conversation was one shot-gun away from me asking a dad for his daughter's—" Roy abruptly stopped.

"...asking for?"

"Nevermind."

"What?" Elisa shot Roy an exasperated look, "you can't just start something like that and not finish!"

"Just did, anyway what was that name he called me? Mae -something?"

Now it was Elisa's turn to freeze. "It doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ, if that's going to be my title going forward, I'd like to know what I'm answering to." Elisa sighed. It was probably better for her to tell him, if she let Roy investigate on his own he could come across some other translations that were best left unmentioned.

"It means Protector. You were standing behind me in full uniform scanning for threats. So, really, that's on you."

"Oh, so he thought I was your bodyguard?"

"Yes!" She jumped on the explanation, eager to move on. "It's only got a positive connotation so anyone that uses that for your name is probably trying to not ruffle feathers."

"And if they were trying to ruffle feathers?"

Elisa ignored the question, opening her fridge to look for ingredients that hadn't gone bad with her abrupt hospital stay.

"Elisa? …Liz?"

"Liz?!" That got her attention. She closed the fridge–there was nothing edible–before turning her attention to Roy. "Since when have you called me that?"

"Since two seconds ago when you forgot how to answer to your own name. Why? Don't like it?" She wrinkled her nose. "Then what about Eli?"

"I mean, that sounds better, but why are you trying out nicknames?"

"Names are a great way to pass messages. For example if I call you Liz you might know that everything I'm saying is a lie. Or Eli and you'd know we need to pretend to be engaged."

That made sense, she supposed.

"Or maybe I just wanted a name no one else uses."

Elisa rolled her eyes. Sometimes she forgot how much Roy liked to tease her. Really, one day she'd have to stop reacting so he'd get bored of that game.

"But let's not change the topic, Eli ." Okay, maybe she should have told him to stick with Liz. That name was dangerous. "What would they call me when they're trying to ruffle my feathers?"

"Roy, you really don't want to know."

"Elisa," he dropped the joking tone, "I really do."

"... Krymit ." She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the pain she was about to cause. "It means 'Cremator' ."

Roy didn't make a sound. He very obviously, and very consciously, didn't make a sound. It was so eerie that Elisa was forced to open her eyes to check on him. Only to gasp at the pure pain on his face. "...right." Roy murmured, voice rough, "that makes sense."

Elisa didn't think about it, she just reacted. One minute she was standing by the fridge, the next she was hugging Roy with all her strength. Roy returned the hug for a few seconds before pulling back and making a joke to lighten the mood.

"Gracia is going to kill me when I tell her."

"...what?"

"That's the third hug we've shared with you sober."

Elisa blushed scarlet, "they were extenuating circumstances! Besides, you guys are different! Gracia's all squishy , I can't breathe when she hugs me! A-and you're taller! I get to hear your heart," she rambled, revealing more than she intended, "it's very rhythmic and you run hotter, so it feels more like a real hug. And you started the first two hugs so they shouldn't even count. Besides , Gracia has Maes so she has all the hugs she can ever ask for, so–" Elisa took a breath vaguely aware she was rambling in panic. She darted a look at Roy's face and froze.

She'd known Roy for a decade now, had seen him in every situation imaginable, but she had never seen that look before. He looked sort of, not happy , well, definitely content, but there was something more . She couldn't place it, but it was at least better than his pained look from before. "–so, yeah." She finished, lamely.

"Message received," Roy said in a gruff voice. Elisa fidgeted, at a loss of how to handle this Roy who was neither playful nor painfully serious. He must've picked up on it because he just coughed and then sent her a smirk that was so quintessentially Roy that she couldn't help but relax. "So I need to hug you more and then brag to Gracia about how you let me because I have the better body."

" Roy! That was not what I said!"

"It definitely was."

"Ugh. I swear, how can a grown man . A Colonel in the military, be so infuriating !" Roy burst out laughing and Elisa hid her smile. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that with people like Roy in her corner, she'd be fine.

Probably.

~::~

"Your plan is going to backfire." Riza murmured when Roy collapsed behind his desk the morning after his return.

"I don't know what you mean."

Riza just stared at Roy. Riza knew Elisa, knew how she thought. His plan was never going to work, and deep down Riza had to believe Roy knew it too.

"She'll convince herself that everything you do is to keep your cover."

Roy swore, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Any advice?"

Riza looked at him like he was an idiot, "...tell her?"

A groan. He knew he needed to, had come so close to saying something in her apartment. But Roy could read Elisa better than probably anyone else, could tell the second she'd grown uncomfortable with the situation. Elisa was a genius, in almost any situation she was decades beyond her peers, but in matters of the heart…

"...she's not ready to hear it. Not yet."

Roy could hear the skepticism in Riza's silence.

"But!" He jumped up, a smile on his face, "she did let me hug her. Three times!"

Riza raised a brow. "I won't be the one to tell Gracia, Colonel."

The rest of the gang arrived to the sight of Mustang merrily whistling to himself.

"I'm a little weirded out," Havoc whispered, "what do you think happened while he was on leave?"

"He got engaged." Riza dropped while walking by, face stoic. When Jean collapsed out of his chair, sputtering, her lip twitched. Was she ever that easy to surprise?

March 12th 1912

The year rushed by in a blur of stress.

Elisa spent most of her time desperately studying for the State Exam, while the rest of Amestris had turned its attention to Fotset. In May Bradley had ordered the seizure of the town to ostensibly strike back at Aerugo for their interference during the Civil War. Fotset was a bordering town that had transferred ownership to Aerugo back in 1835 in a treaty following the first Southern Skirmish. Bradley claimed that arming an insurrection directly violated said treaty rendering Aerugo's claim on the town forfeit. Aerugo saw things differently, and the Second Southern Skirmish began.

Elisa was only peripherally aware of this, however, through throw-away-lines Roy would drop. Had she not been so focused on the exam she may have recognized this as another bloody crest, instead she studied.

According to Roy the questions were set to cover a wide variety of scientific topics, which was not good news for Elisa.

She was a Chemist .

Even now as an alchemist her particular field of study had always remained firmly grounded in the basics of chemistry. Phase changes, atomic arrangement, fluorescence, at most someone could argue she'd dabbled in Physics when working out her solar powered array. But she wasn't a Geologist, or a Biologist, or a Zoologist. Elisa wasn't building bridges out of bedrock, healing cuts or–god forbid–fusing animals together with her alchemy. She was peripherally aware of the other fields, of course, but to pass the exam she'd have to be competent in them.

A state alchemy license was about the closest thing Amestris had to a PhD. To be awarded one required the applicant first prove a good grounding in all of Alchemy and then prove themselves the leading expert in their Alchemic field.

So Elisa spent months trying to familiarize herself with every branch of Alchemy she could. While also trying to unlearn some of the very true, but very undiscovered, facts of her other life. After all, knowing the 'wrong' answers were just as bad as not having the answers.

Beyond studying, Elisa also worked with the refugee community to try and ensure the system they'd built was self-sufficient and wouldn't collapse as soon as she left. An endeavor that, while personally fulfilling, only added to her stress.

Thankfully Roy kept to his word and called her every Friday, since she desperately needed his help to work through the topics she just couldn't wrap her head around. And if any intelligence officers decided to tap the calls and listen in, well, her showing she was taking this seriously could only be a boon.

When Roy came to visit was when she'd let herself actually breathe . The refugees never quite felt comfortable with Roy joining her in the slums. But Elder Alzeik would occasionally stop by on those days, to continue their debates. Roy got very quiet on those occasions, but he never seemed uncomfortable , pensive (maybe?) so Elisa always left it alone.

(In truth, Roy would watch, and wonder if this was all it would have taken to avoid war.)

She did take a month off of everything in November, to stop by Central and help her sister when Elicia was born.

Her picture-perfect niece.

(If Elisa got Maes a camera for his birthday that year that was her prerogative.)

She'd tried to tease them about Elicia's name, but it had gotten very awkward very quickly and Elisa came to realize that perhaps her stint in the hospital had affected those closest to her a little more than she'd expected. Still, it was a good break before it was back to the grind.

By the time the exam actually rolled around Elisa was so sick of studying she was almost happy to take the test. After all, there were only so many facts of animal biology one could memorize before contemplating homicide.

In the end though, it paid off.

Or, well, Elisa assumed it paid off, she wouldn't actually get her results until October but she'd at least felt like she'd passed the general knowledge portion.

It went downhill from there.

The one part of the exam Elisa hadn't been worried about was the demonstration of their specialization. After all, she was literally in this mess because of her specialization, there was no doubt what they'd want her to show and she was fully planning to comply.

What this meant, practically, was that while other examinees desperately prepared for their practicals in the various practice rooms given to applicants she was left to wait with those other alchemists who didn't need the last minute preparation.

And by "those other" she meant one other.

Elisa had been vaguely surprised to clock the middle-aged man when she'd entered the waiting room. She'd briefly wondered if it was confidence or something else that had him forgoing the need to practice. But while she'd never quite developed the social anxiety of that past life in this one, she still didn't enjoy striking up small talk with strangers for no perceivable benefit.

This man, however, didn't get that memo as he was quick to approach her.

"Hello, you're quite young to be taking these exams."

Elisa raised a brow in surprise. "I'm twenty-four?" It's true that most of the applicants were in their late twenties or older, but Roy had taken his exam when he was twenty-one and that hadn't registered as weird. And a literal child had passed these exams the previous year (which caused an uptick in the amount of applicants this year–mildly annoying.) So it's not like Elisa stood out horribly for her age. (Her gender, however…)

"Oh!" The man chuckled, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I just assumed. I've always been terrible at guessing ages, my wife's constantly teasing me about that."

Elisa relaxed at the mention of a wife. While he didn't seem to be hitting on her, she'd long learned to be weary. Her eyes did lock on his left hand, though, noting the tan-line highlighting a distinct lack of a ring.

The man followed her gaze, and then casually moved his left hand into his pocket before letting out a depreciating laugh. "Right…I suppose it's more accurate to say 'ex-wife,' or soon-to-be, at least." He bent his shoulders, embarrassed. "She hasn't sent the divorce papers yet, but she ran home this weekend, so it's just a matter of time."

Elisa tried to school her face into a sympathetic expression even while trying to hide her confusion. Divorce was not common in this time period, the stigma of a failed marriage always fell on the wife's shoulders and most assets were in the husband's name. So it was very rare for a woman to be the one to seperate. It typically meant one of two things. First, she found herself a new man so wouldn't need the money, regardless. Second, her husband was bad enough to justify the stigma and loss of income that would occur. Elisa knew enough about humanity to know it could really go either way in this case. But she was a bit surprised that he'd share this information with a virtual stranger.

Ultimately, however, this guy's marital problems were not Elisa's concern. Which he must have realized, quick as he was to steer the conversation to a more appropriate subject.

"So, do you also work in bioalchemy?"

Elisa wrinkled her nose. "No. Not at all. Why?"

Surprised eyes glanced her way. "Bioalchemy can't be performed on the spot like most branches. The arrays run for hours and require the most sterile of environments or the viability of the transmutation becomes questionable." A cough. "So we often complete our transmutations the day before and just bring the results to be judged by the panel."

It made sense, Elisa reasoned. Surgery needed to occur in the OR or a person's chances of survival plummeted. You couldn't judge a doctor's skills based on the outcome of a surgery they performed on the street.

"So, you're a bioalchemist, then?"

"Yes, I specialize in Chimerism, and you?"

A chill ran down Elisa's back as it always did when the topic of Chimera's came up. She had some very real ethical qualms with the field, her past knowledge notwithstanding. She understood the concept of animal testing, experimenting with small mammals to find workable theories to save bigger mammals (read: humans.) She didn't like the idea, but she could stomach the necessity of it. But Chimera's served no such purpose. Human transmutation was forbidden so it's not like any knowledge learned could actually be applied to better humanity. Five hundred years ago, there could have been a purpose, much as Asia found a purpose in crossing a horse and a donkey to make a mule. But with the advent of steam technology and the Industrial Revolution they found themselves in, the need to better the condition of their beasts of burden had long since passed.

Instead, in the current climate, Chimera Alchemists almost exclusively catered to the rich and powerful. Men and women who wanted nothing more than to own a creature that was wholly unique. Never mind that their very existence was one of agony. Like animal hybrids of her past, Liger's, certain dog breeds, a chimera never lasted long. But that never stopped them from being bought and sold, either.

Needless to say, Elisa was not a fan of the field.

"I specialize in Elemental alchemy. Specifically rapid and controlled phase changes of water."

"Oh." His voice went quiet. "That's impressive."

Elisa worked hard to keep her face neutral even as she was internally smirking. It was impressive, she knew, that was something that studying the other branches of Alchemy had taught her. There was a hierarchy to the fields, and Roy hadn't been lying when he'd said that their's stood near the top.

The prestige of a branch was determined by how much extraneous knowledge was required to employ the array and to what level an alchemist broke down the material. It turned out that most people didn't break things down to their molecular level. They thought in terms of "wood" or "stone" and would reshape items the way a potter would reshape a clay plot they didn't like the look of. That was the reason for the characteristic cracks one could see in most alchemical repairs. The bigger the building blocks, the more obvious the seam.

Bioalchemists thought down to organs and cells, which was considered impressive in its own right. And medical alchemy required a medical degree worth of knowledge. But elemental alchemists like Roy and her thought in terms of atoms and molecules when very few people truly grasped what molecules even were.

The only thing that could be considered more impressive would be thinking in terms of subatomic particles or energy. Those were known as Theoretical Alchemists, people who played with the rules of Alchemy itself to create something new.

Scar's brother would have been such an Alchemist. Elisa technically was, although Roy and her were in agreement to hide her foray into solar powered arrays. Edward would have been marked down as such when he displayed a circle-less transmutation. It's how he was able to pass despite his young age; he was considered an expert in the most prestigious branch of alchemy. (In truth he was actually an expert in Abstract Alchemy—human transmutation, soul anchorage, and such. But for obvious reasons that couldn't be made public.)

All that to say that Elisa knew where she ranked in the scholarly pecking order. She wasn't planning to rub it in anyone's face, but if people asked. Well, she'd spent so much of this life pretending to know less than she did, it was high time she was allowed to enjoy praise from someone other than Roy.

"I was lucky. I had a good teacher, two, actually. But, yes, it's…involved."

"Are you considering teaching yourself, should you pass?"

Elisa would have loved nothing more than to teach. Had written her notes to be as close to the form of a textbook as she could make it. Unfortunately she wouldn't be able to explain where she had gotten the background information needed in order to activate her arrays. It would be twenty years before someone proposed the lattice structure of ice, and that was only one aspect of the reaction. Perhaps in the future when Roy had risen in rank and the homunculi were gone. Then they could pretend this was information Master Hawkeye had discovered and passed on to them both.

But not now.

"...do you intend to teach?" Elisa turned the question around. She doubted he did, most alchemists took this exam to get funding for research. Who joined the military to teach ? (Some people, surely, they do have an academy. But it's hardly the norm.)

"Ah, touché. Maybe in twenty years, when I'm done raising my daughter and have published several papers."

It was a completely innocuous statement.

In the list of statements this man had dropped, this was perhaps the least suspect. Elisa had no doubt it wouldn't have even registered as odd with any of the other (very male) contestants. For the simple reason that they had never been women and so wouldn't be struck dumb by the implication that a mother had abandoned her child.

It did happen, Elisa was not so naive that she wasn't aware it did happen. Motherhood did not provide a magic spell to turn one into a saint, or even a half-way decent person. Still, it was rare enough to jump out at Elisa, and make her properly pay attention to this man. And her stomach sunk at what her brain was telling her.

"Sorry, I just realized, I never asked your name?"

A chuckle. "Of course, how rude of me. I'm Shou Tucker."

~::~

"Eli, what's wrong?"

Years later Elisa would look back on that day in wonder at her own strength. She would question where she'd found the restraint to smile at Tucker and wish him luck instead of socking him in the teeth. She'd ponder where she'd found the fortitude to walk into her practical and demonstrate her mastery over water, while her mind was so occupied. And she'd mull over how she'd had the wherewithal to pick up on Roy's coded use of Eli even as she'd wanted nothing more than to find the nearest toilet and puke her guts out.

"Oh, nothing Roy," she shot him a fake smile."I'm just ready to see Gracia." She started tugging him out of the building. "It's been ages. "

Elisa didn't know why Roy had hinted they needed to act the couple. He'd mentioned keeping the ruse going until after she'd been assigned a C.O. as their relationship increased the chances of her being stationed in the East with him and Riza (although, not in the same chain-of-command.) But with the years of friendship they had going their natural ease with each other was normally more than enough to sell the lie.

So Elisa didn't know what the code was for, but she also didn't care. She had met Shou Tucker not three hours ago and she was freaking out. So she'd dropped her own code. Made it clear they needed to go see her sister–and through her, Maes–despite Roy knowing the plan was to meet up tomorrow.

"Of course, dear." An arm flung around her shoulder and squeezed. Showing that Elisa was failing miserably at hiding her panic attack–at least from Roy. Thankfully she could trust the man to lead the way while she focused all of her energy on appearing calm.

~::~

Gracia took one look at her sister and knew something was horribly wrong. So she'd ushered the two inside, put the kettle on, and immediately asked what she could do to help.

"I need to speak to Maes," Elisa took a steadying breath, "I have a crime to report."

Roy's eyes widened, mentally running through the past few hours. He'd been allowed to observe the exams in their entirety, and couldn't think of what Elisa could possibly be referring to, "what crime?"

Face paling, Elisa shook her head in denial. "...I don't want to say it more than once."

Gracia bit her lip in worry.

Her sister had never been the squeamish type. When the local girls had shrieked the first time they'd seen the butcher at work Elisa had just remarked they'd better get used to the sight of blood as they'd be seeing it monthly. When Old Man George had fallen off the bakery roof while re-tiling, an 8 year old Elisa had sat next to him and told him stories while they waited for the doctor, her eyes never once straying to the bone that was jutting out of his arm. She'd always been a favorite as a babysitter in town, since she never blinked at changing a diaper or having puke run down her back.

"If it comes off with water, why fuss?"

Gracia couldn't even wrap her mind around what could cause her stalwart sister to worry like this. But she knew that she needed a distraction, and she needed one now .

Luckily Gracia had the perfect topic to derail her sister's thoughts until Maes could make it home. "So…when's the wedding?"

Elisa blinked at the tone shift, brain slow to make the connection. "...what?"

A head nod. "You and Roy, you've been engaged for over a year now. So, when's the wedding?"

For a second Elisa really feared that she'd somehow let an entire year go by and just…forgotten to clue her sister in. But then she saw her sister's smirk and couldn't resist tossing a pillow at her. "Rude. I really thought you were serious!"

"Well," the smirk stretched wider, "I just need to know what to tell people. They're all curious if they'll be invited to the festivities."

"Wha–who do I even know that would want to come to my fake wedding?!"

"I mean, it's not really because of you that they're curious," Gracia admitted, shooting Roy an apologetical smile even as he started frantically miming 'abort.' "They just want to know who managed to tame Amestris' biggest womanizer."

Elisa's lips twitched.

Gracia nodded faux-serious, "he's apparently dropped his campaigning for mandatory mini-skirts to a weekly rant. You've several soldiers who want to thank you for taking the bullet for them."

"Hey, I'm a catch!"

Elisa burst out laughing, "maybe the real you, Roy. But this guy I'm hearing about sounds like a real piece of work!"

"...you mean that?"

Elisa fought to get her giggles under control while shooting Roy a confused look. "Yeah? A guy randomly demanding women wear miniskirts sounds like…well, I know I'd be curious what kind of woman agreed to marry him."

"No, not that part." His eyes darted away, as he scratched the back of his neck. "The first–you know what? Nevermind."

Elisa's eyes widened in comprehension before softening in understanding, "Roy, do you really not know?"

Gracia hid a smile behind her hand as Elisa turned to give Roy her full attention. Her sister was completely oblivious as to what she was doing to this poor man.

"You're a great person. Incredibly driven, very loyal, you've always been respectful to Gracia and I. Honestly, you should have more faith in yourself, any girl would be lucky to marry you."

"That's what I'm always telling him!" A jovial voice called while pushing open the front door. Maes walked over and threw an arm around Roy's shoulder. "If I'd been born a girl I would've trapped him in a marriage years ago."

Roy shoved his friend off, grateful for the excuse to turn away from Elisa. "One day you're going to give someone the wrong idea, Maes."

As if on cue a baby's cry echoed from down the hall.

"Oh, my darling Elicia!! Don't worry, Papa is home!"

The trio watched as Maes skipped down the hall to retrieve his daughter.

"...or not."

Fifteen minutes later saw Maes sitting across from Roy and Elisa, baby in his arms. "So, let's hear it. What's so problematic that you couldn't wait until tomorrow to bring it up?"

Elisa sighed before haltingly telling her story. Trying to explain in a way that came across as more than, 'I have a gut feeling.'

By the frown Maes was sporting she wasn't sure she was successful. "...it all sounds very circumstantial." He started, reluctantly.

"The disappearance, maybe." Elisa agreed. "But the science doesn't add up, either."

Roy stared, he knew better than perhaps anyone that Elisa was not a bioalchemist. In fact, of all the branches that was the one she took to the least. Which begged the question, "what do you mean by that?" And how did you figure it out?

"Chimera's are made by combining animals, a truly advanced practitioner could use the vocal cords from parrots or, perhaps, primates to create a creature theoretically capable of human speech." Elisa gripped her forearms, trying desperately to find the words to get them to hear, get them to see.

"But, primates are already theoretically capable of human speech, in so much as they have those vocal cords. What's stopping them is neural control. It's not that his chimera could mimic the sounds of human speech, it's that it crafted a sentence on its own. And that takes sentience." Roy froze. He hadn't thought of that aspect, if the creature truly talked rather than mimicked, then that would mean Tucker had somehow bioengineered awareness . "There's only one large mammal I know of that could provide such sentience."

"And when you say 'large mammal'?" Maes questioned, eyes tightening in dawning horror.

"...I mean a human."

Maes shot his eyes to Roy to confirm how much of what Elisa had just said was true. His stomach sank as his friend nodded in confirmation. Roy wouldn't condemn a man to the gallows on hearsay, if he was throwing his weight behind Elisa then - at least from an alchemical stance - there was something to what she was saying.

"This is…very concerning." Maes admitted, "I could probably open an investigation into Tucker, if I claim we're considering hiring him then that would allow for a basic background check. That should be good enough grounds for no one to question why I'm trying to track down his wife."

"They'd buy you want Tucker for Investigations?"

Maes' smile sharpened, "of course, just imagine how useful animals capable of human speech would be for intel gathering. He was practically made for my department!" There were times when Elisa forgot exactly how smart her brother-in-law was, like when he'd coo over his daughter and create giant portraits of his wife. But then she'd see moments like these and be reminded that for all that Maes never took to the hard sciences like Roy and she, he was no less brilliant. And when it came to the social sciences he was arguably more brilliant.

"Still," Maes continued, eyes focusing on Elisa as if to pick apart her every thought. "While this is a potentially horrific crime that does need to be substantiated, it could have waited until tomorrow?" He left the question open-ended for Elisa to fill in.

"...he has a daughter. She's about five."

Gracia gasped from the kitchen, eyes darting to her daughter held safely in her husband's arms.

"You don't think," Roy muttered, in horror.

"I do." Elisa confirmed. "Maybe not now, that would be suspicious and he's likely to not need to create anything until his assessment next year. He can fail once, so he may even wait two years." She shook her head trying to dislodge the images that rushed to mind. "But I don't believe for a second that he wouldn't . He's…he doesn't look at life like we do, as something sacred. Tucker only believes in the advancement of science, he would easily sacrifice his daughter at its altar and claim she should feel honored for her contribution."

"Right. So I'll look for his wife and extended family," Maes muttered to himself, mentally running through logistics. "Do you know the girl's name?"

"Nina."

"...little Nina, then." Maes locked eyes with the woman who was in all ways his little sister and made her a promise . "I don't know what charge I'll be able to get to stick with Tucker. Lack of a body does not prove murder. But I don't care about the evidence, if I can't find that little girl's mom I will get her out of his house." Hazel eyes burned with conviction. "I swear ."

Gracia walked in from the kitchen, dinner in hand. " We swear," she added, her face as serious as Elisa had ever seen. "We won't let him hurt that little girl Lizzy, don't you worry about that."

"...Lizzy?" Roy questioned, watching as Elisa flushed. "Is that why you didn't like Liz? Your sister already claimed it?"

"Oh, she hates Lizzy, too." Gracia informed Roy with a conspiratorial whisper that wasn't quite whispered.

"Oi!"

"Our parents had almost named her Elizabeth but had decided at the last minute on Elisa. She always thought 'Elizabeth' was too regal a name and so hated the nickname it got her."

"Oh, is that it Lizzy ?" Roy called, chuckling to himself.

Elisa glared at him, "Yes it is, Colonel. "

Roy froze.

Elisa chalked it up to finding a title that Roy disliked and settled down with a smile now that they were back on even footing. Maes saw something different. And that night, after Elisa had retired to the spare bedroom and Roy had decided to head out, he decided to test his theory.

"That was quite a reaction."

"What?"

A smirk. "During dinner, when Elisa called you Colonel?"

A blush spread across Roy's face so fast that Maes was actually a little surprised.

"Seems you have a bit of a problem there, what with you working for the military, and all. If you get that way every time she addresses you…"

Roy shoved Maes, who stumbled back with a smile. He had no regrets. And he was definitely going to impress upon Elisa the importance of properly addressing her superiors once she was ranked. He'd need to bribe Riza to take a picture of Roy's face the first time Elisa called him 'sir.'

Mean?

Perhaps.

But Roy had spent the better part of their academy days teasing Maes about Gracia, and turnabout was fair play.

October 10th, 1913

After the exams Elisa had immediately retreated to her small village with the Ishvalans, to make the most of her time left as a free woman. Roy continued to call and show up, it was through him that she got updates on Maes' investigation. It was when Roy was handing her the letter and watch declaring her a State Alchemist–

"The Crystal Alchemist, looks like the title's been pulled out of retirement."

–that he finally delivered the news she'd wanted.

"We had to wait for him to officially be declared a State Alchemist to be able to court martial him. Nina is on her way to her grandmother's as we speak."

Elisa had tackled him in a hug, knocking them both to the floor. Normally she'd have jumped back the second he'd fallen over, but in that moment she couldn't bring herself to move. After all, this was more than saving some little girl from a horrific fate. This was tangible proof that their lives were not dictated by some pre-chosen destiny, proof that Elisa did have the ability to affect the world around her.

"Thank you," she had mumbled into his chest, tears streaming down her face. " Thank you ."

What had followed was a very technical explanation from Roy regarding her new obligations as a State Alchemist and an invitation for his help in securing an abode near Eastern Command. The information had been delivered rapidly enough that Elisa'd had to rush to grab paper to record it all. Which had so successfully derailed the situation that it wasn't until several hours after Roy'd left that Elisa's brain saw fit to remind her of how much she'd enjoyed tackling her friend. And, blushing to the roots of her hair, she'd resolved to ask Roy to finally break off this faux engagement. It wouldn't do for her to get confused.

January 21st, 1913

The first time Elisa met Edward was also the first time she'd met the rest of Roy's group. The months since she'd received her assignment from Eastern Command had been spent moving cities and familiarizing herself with military life. She'd been placed under the command of a Colonel Corsair who'd been quick to task her with creating a better irrigation system than their current one (that had been used by natives for a thousand years.)

As knowing the chemical properties of water did not lend one to having knowledge of irrigation, she'd also been taking time to read up on agriculture. Thankfully Corsair's 2nd Lieutenant–Rebecca Catalina–had been more than willing to help Elisa out. Becky was friends with Riza so the three often found themselves taking lunch together.

Despite this Elisa had never found the need to walk into Roy's office. And, thus, had somehow missed out on meeting Roy's team until Edward showed up for his annual recertification. Not that she knew that's what was happening. Rather Becky called out sick so Elisa found herself bereft of a lunch buddy.

"Oh, who's this lovely young lady?" Havoc called, the second Elisa poked her head into Roy's office.

Roy looked up from his paperwork in curiosity only to straighten in surprise. "Eli–er, Major Frey!" Roy called, stumbling over the title he so rarely used. "What brings you here?"

"Sir." Elisa nodded at Roy, raising a brow in concern when he stiffened. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Jean.

"Oh? You know the Colonel?"

A nod, "and your 2nd Lieutenant. I was actually dropping by to ask if you were free for lunch, Riza?" The team watched as Roy slumped down in his chair, dejected.

"I don't mean to pry," Havoc said in a tone that implied that's exactly what he meant to do, "but what exactly is your relationship with the Colonel?"

"Uh, we're, I mean," Elisa shot a look at Roy and raised a brow in question. He shrugged. "...we're engaged?"

Havoc fell out of his chair in surprise. "Wait. You're his fiancée?"

Elise shrugged, uncomfortably, she didn't know if Roy wanted that spread around. She'd been waiting for months to hear his plan to end their "engagement". Ever since she brought up the idea and he'd promised to think about it.

That was part of why she'd wanted to grab lunch with Riza. She'd wanted to pick the girl's brain for the best strategy going forward while Becky was out of commision.

"Sorry, Elisa," Riza's eyes softened in apology. "The Colonel has an Alchemy match set with Edward Elric in an hour and I need to secure their starting location."

Elisa's eyes lit up in interest. "Would you like help? We could always eat after the match." It would be easy to work and talk and two people would definitely be faster than one.

Riza shot her a grateful smile and led her out of the office. She could barely make out Havoc's voice as the door swung shut.

"She wasn't what I was picturing, Colonel."

Elisa turned to Riza and started walking, "...just what were they expecting? Were they insulting me? Or Roy?"

"I'm relatively certain Havoc loved— wait !"

Riza's call came two seconds too late, as Elisa promptly bumped into another body, causing her to stumble back, eyes closed in pain.

"I'm sorry about that! I didn't see you, I was—"

"— WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE HIM WHEN YOU'RE WALKING IN THE HALLWAY?!?"

"Brother, no!"

Elisa twitched before opening her eyes to lock onto the two Elric brothers, shock shooting through her. Edward was so small. And not in a joking, running-gag, sort of way. Elisa was struck mute by the fact that Edward was very much small in a he-belongs-in-middle-school sort of way.

"...not you." Elisa eventually managed, causing Edward to immediately back down in confusion. "I was distracted, I'm sorry."

"U-uh, oh. It's fine," Edward gruffly dismissed.

"Fullmetal we have to get going. Alphonse," Riza nodded to the suite of armor.

"We'll let you get on with your work, Lieutenant." Alphonse called, cheerfully.

Elisa's eyes stayed on the boys as she walked off with Riza, still trying to reconcile a young Edward with the manga she recalled. Hours later she watched Roy as he dueled the boy, her eyes furrowed in disgust. Until that day it had never properly hit Elisa what the existence of Edward Elric meant. Edward was in all ways a child soldier.

Elisa had never actually felt compelled to share her knowledge of the future, before. Perhaps if she had realized the truth of her situation before the War had started there would have been an urge to say something . But on the whole the cost always seemed to outweigh the benefit, to the point that Elisa didn't even really feel guilty hiding the truth from Roy, Maes and Riza. She couldn't afford to deviate from the story too much lest she destroy the one avantage she had. And Elisa knew she'd need every advantage to save Maes.

Still, watching Edward fight Elisa couldn't help but question her stance. After all, what gave her the right to allow the Elric brothers to risk their lives for a lie? To watch them chase a promise that was more monster than myth? For the first time since realizing where she'd woken up, Elisa felt guilt for keeping her memories to herself.

But then her eyes caught on Maes–who had been delivering some documents from Central–and her resolve hardened. She wouldn't say anything, she couldn't, not when it would jeopardize her plan to save her brother. Edward was a child, morally it was wrong to push this onto his shoulders, especially knowing what she did. But practically? Practically Elisa had to assume Edward would have appreciated her doing whatever she could to protect a brother.

So she bit her tongue, buried her guilt, and watched the fight. Not knowing that would be the last time she saw the Elric brothers before Scar struck.

April 23rd, 1913

Elisa wasn't someone to complain about her boss. In that old life she'd held several jobs with less-than-desirable supervisors and she'd managed to survive them all. Yes, of course, a crappy boss led to a crappy work-environment but rarely–she'd found–did complaining end up being of any use. For the most part anyone worth complaining about got worse if you said anything. So Elisa wasn't one to complain.

Colonel Corsair, however, was pushing her to her limits.

It had started with the irrigation project, an assignment that was outside of her scope and in no way relied on her skillset.

It only got worse from there.

From irrigation she was shifted to urban planning where she was instructed to help design and build new barracks. After that she was tasked with reorganizing their outdated filing system. Then she was loaned to the finance office where she was told to balance their quarterly budget. And Elisa didn't mind being given a series of administrative tasks that had nothing to do with her alchemical abilities, except…

Except it seemed like every task Corsair assigned was set up so that she would fail.

Each task required a niche sort of knowledge base or skill set that Elisa would have never come across–in this life.

At first she'd thought that was the point, that Corsair was going for a sink-or-swim approach to getting Elisa caught up on need-to-know skills. But every time she'd succeeded at a task (through a combination of Rebecca's kindness and past-life experiences) Corsair had seemed to grow more aggravated.

It wasn't sexism, he seemed to treat Rebecca with respect. Elisa had assumed some sort of hazing ritual but then a cadet had joined their team and hadn't been put through the same wringer. So, she'd eventually concluded that it had to be her, that there was something about Elisa herself that he hated.

The whole thing definitely stank of trying to get her to quit.

But Elisa couldn't quit.

She didn't doubt for a second that the moment she quit a certain piece of legislature would make its way across the Fuhrer's desk. So she'd bitten her lip and carried on, hoping to change minds through perseverance (even while doubting such a thing was possible.)

But, eventually, the harassment reached a level that even Elisa couldn't ignore. After all, it was one thing to send her off ignorant and blind to complete some sort of administration task, and something else entirely to send her off blind into the field.

Her newest assignment was to help retrieve failed explosives, ostensibly to conduct research into their failure. And Elisa wasn't planning to quit but she also wasn't planning to die. So she'd accepted her orders, and then immediately made a beeline for Roy.

And Roy was not happy when Elisa finally let herself complain.

"I don't care what I need to say, or to whom, but I need to get transferred to a different CO!"

Silence.

Green eyes peered into Roy's black in a desperate plea. It probably looked really pathetic to Roy's subordinates (it didn't) her begging her "fiance" for help. But Elisa was at her wits end. There was probably some official channel she could go through, but the East had just seen a Civil War. Corsair had just returned from the battle field. Elisa had no illusions about how quickly any complaint she filed against a war hero would get "lost." So, she'd turned to Roy.

"East Command is small," Roy began, causing Eliza's stomach to sink. "I could possibly talk to the Lieutenant General about taking you on directly, since he already likes you. But Corsair would still be able to pull rank any time your paths crossed."

"What about outside of Eastern Command?" Elisa pleaded. "What about Central? Gracia would put me up in Central, and Maes could keep an eye out for me at work." And I can keep an eye out for him and any shapeshifting, brother-in-law slaying, monsters.

Roy stared at Eliza taking in her unkempt hair and eye bags, and sighed. "...I do have one play." He admitted, with a frown, "it should get you transferred to Central in a week, and probably cause Corsair to back off until then." Eliza let out a sigh of relief, she didn't know what Roy was planning–not something he was excited to do, that's for sure–but just knowing he had a plan was enough to calm her nerves.

The next day when she walked into work Colonel Corsair actually apologized to her. Not about his treatment, of course, but still an apology for "misjudging" her, nonetheless. A fact which more than threw Eliza for a loop.

"I don't understand, sir. Why now?"

"I saw the paperwork, any transfer request has to cross my desk, of course," he nodded, solemnly, "most people wouldn't have spoken out. Not against someone like Mustang."

"...right." Elisa agreed, mentally kicking herself for not asking Roy exactly what his play was. "The transfer request. I'm sorry sir, but what exactly did I write down? I was rather sleep deprived at the time, and I'm worried I may have overstepped…"

"Perfectly understandable, given your ordeal. You put in to transfer based on a hostile work environment, claiming Mustang was reacting poorly to the termination of your engagement." Elisa's eyes widened in surprise, "I was skeptical at first, but petty officer Jones confirmed he overheard you and Lieutenant Hawkeye plotting the best way to end your engagement weeks ago."

Smart, Roy.

"I have spoken to Ro–Colonel Mustang about calling off our engagement." Elisa agreed, "and the last few days work has certainly felt…hostile." Left unsaid was that Corsair had been the cause of said hostilities. "I figured, with my sister out in Central, well, it could make a nice change."

"I quite agree. I've already sent along my approval, no worries. I'm only sad that your transfer will cost me such a valuable ally."

"An ally, sir?"

"Yes, against Colonel Mustang and his eccentric ways. How he got the ear of Lieutenant General Grumman, I'll never know." Elisa bit back the quip that she couldn't possibly imagine why Northrop Grumman, grandfather to one Riza Hawkeye, would hold Roy in high esteem.

"Quite right," she nodded before making her excuses and leaving to pack. It wasn't until Riza was helping her load her bags onto the train that reality finally set in for Elisa. Her 'engagement' to Roy had ended not with bang but a whisper, and had taken with it any excuse she had to stay in contact with her closest friend.

"You'll be sure to keep an eye on him, right?" Elisa whispered making sure no one on the platform could overhear them. "I mean, more than just at work. You'll make sure he takes time off and keeps up with his hobbies?"

"You'll keep in contact with her right, Riza? She'll have her sister but she'll need her friend for a move like this!"

"I will."

"And," Elisa continued, frown tugging on her lips, "you'll try and keep him from going overboard with his persona, right? Underestimated is good, but he will still need to be able to sway people's opinions in the future."

"You'll caution her to hide everything? Her thoughts, her ideas, anything they would use against her?!"

"I'll try."

"And–"

Riza held up a hand, causing Elisa to shut her mouth. "Roy is my friend," she started, echoing a lecture she'd given just the day before, "and my commanding officer. I'll care for him to the best of my abilities in both roles. But he's not my husband, I'm not his wife. If you want to ensure he receives care up to your standards then you should take care of him." And Riza, who had reached her limit with her two friends' antics, just sighed before steamrolling right past their bullshit. "Elisa," her voice was kind for all that it was sharp, "you like Roy."

Elisa blinked, then she chuckled, "no, I don't!"

Riza raised a brow.

"I don't!" Elisa insisted, "sure Roy is pretty, but I don't blush every time I see him! And when we hug it's not like butterflies in my stomach! It's just…warm. Nice. But not like that . I mean, Roy's a friend," Elisa rambled on, clueless to how guilty it made her look, "I like spending time with him. But it's not like Gracia and Hughes, or my mom and dad, I don't get all giggly in his presence or-or, like kissing! I've never even thought about kissing Roy!"

"Okay. And now?"

Elisa furrowed her brow, confused as to where Riza was going with this. "What do you mean?"

"You've never thought about kissing Roy, well, what happens if you think about it now?"

Elisa shot her a surprised look as if realizing for the first time that she had the power to do just that. "I don't, I can't imagine…" a blush, "I mean I haven't ever wanted to…"

Riza took pity on her friend who seemed to be slowly combusting. "Look, Elisa, only you can decide how you feel. But, you shouldn't make the judgment based on how you think you should feel. At the end of the day, kissing, butterflies that can all come later, if it comes at all. What matters is when you look to the future, what do you see?"

What do you see ?

Elisa contemplated the question the entire train ride to Central. The truth was, if Elisa forced herself to be honest, she knew what she saw when she looked towards the future. She had been both subconsciously and consciously preparing for it since she first settled in the East.

She saw Roy and herself far in the desert helping rebuild Ishval. She saw herself supporting Roy as he rose through the ranks to take the mantle of Fuhrer. She saw days filled with theological debates and nights filled with alchemical experiments. Part of Elisa had never let herself think on it, partly because she had always imagined Roy and Riza ending up together–

"He is not my husband, I am not his wife."

–but, also, because she wasn't sure that what she wanted would match what Roy, what any guy, would want. She was the type of person who had to force herself to share a hug. And, sure, it was easier with Roy, sometimes even nice. But she could never promise more , and Roy definitely deserved more , he deserved someone who would love him fully, not half-heartedly like–

Elisa closed her eyes in defeat. "Crap." She thought, slamming her head against the train window. "Well, I suppose I didn't lie to Riza," she mumbled to herself, "I don't like Roy. I love the stupid bastard." And as the train pulled into Central Station and she locked eyes with her grinning sister, Elisa was once again reminded of the totality of her circumstances. Namely that to the brass she and Roy had just ended a rather long engagement and so would have no reason to communicate in the near future.

"...crap."

Chapter 4: It Begins

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

June 7th 1913

In a lot of ways adjusting to Central was far easier than adjusting to the East had been.

From day one Gracia had demanded she move into their guest-bedroom, which had removed a lot of stress by allowing Elisa to live off base. Getting to see little Elicia everyday had also worked wonders for Elisa's psyche. And while it had been years since Gracia and Elisa had lived under the same roof–longer since they'd done so without the looming presence of an ongoing Civil War–it still felt like coming home.

In some ways, Elisa felt like she was finally able to breathe again. In other ways, however, it was suffocating. Well, okay, in just one way.

Elisa spent many nights mentally cursing Riza out for forcing her to realize her feelings about Roy. Over ten years of friendship, most spent on opposite sides of the country, and Elisa had never missed Roy as she currently did. Oh, she’d missed him before, certainly, but it had always been in an abstract way. A feeling that she half-attributed to nostalgia, missing her childhood more than Roy, specifically. Now, however, she was painfully aware of his absence.

She hadn’t realized just how much he’d become a permanent fixture in her life, until he was gone. It was clear in the little things; the lack of insight when she posited an alchemical question aloud, the lack of snide commentary when she’d jot down some words for her next book idea. She often found herself turning to tell him something, only to realize he wasn’t there.

Roy wasn’t the only person she missed, Elisa had built a life for herself out in the East, and the lack was clear in the city-scape of Central. But at least if she wanted to hear Riza’s voice she could pick up a phone and call her. If she wanted to discuss theology with Alzeik she could write a letter and mail it. But Maes had been quick to veto any contact with Roy for the foreseeable future. He’d argued it would be better for Roy’s future–because damnit if Elisa wasn’t also committed to getting him elected as Fuhrer–if some of his allies branched out. And Elisa was perfect because no one would ever question why she kept contact with Maes, while cutting off all contact with Roy.

It was frustrating because it was perfectly logical, perfectly pragmatic, and two months ago Elisa wouldn’t have blinked at following along. Would have considered it only fair after Roy had faked an engagement to save her life. Now, though? Now Elisa had to constantly war with her brain between the logic of the plan and her inner child desperately wanting to talk to her best friend.

Because, at the end of the day, that’s who Roy was to her. Not the future Fuhrer of Amestris, or the Flame Alchemist, not Colonel Mustang, and not even Riza’s–not anymore at least. No, these days when Eliza thought of Roy it was with the surety that he was her best friend. And it grated that she couldn’t talk to him.

So Elisa threw herself into her work.

Partly because she wanted to be in a position to help Roy one day, and justify this stupid plan. But largely, in truth, to distract herself from that one question that had been circling just outside her thoughts.

What will I say when I see him?

November 22nd 1913

Working under Brigadier General Basque Grand was heaven compared to Elisa’s last assignment.

From the moment her new CO was announced Maes had sung his praises, speaking of the man with the utmost respect. But Elisa had still been the slightest bit nervous about meeting him, considering her previous experiences. Thankfully those fears only lasted until she'd shown up to her first day, where the Brigadier General informed her that her first two weeks would be spent shadowing a more experienced officer.

Things had only improved from there.

Working under Grand had shown Elisa that working in the East had been far worse for her psyche than she'd truly realized. Elisa had known it was bad , but she’d underestimated just how much abuse she’d tolerated in order to survive. That is, until she’d started working under someone who treated her as a human being, and was forced to face the striking difference.

He complimented her work ethic, encouraged her to approach him with any questions, even directed her to different sources of information when he didn't know the answer! For the first time in this life Eliza found herself smiling at work. More than that, under Grand’s command she found herself flourishing . Unlike in the East, the Brigadier General was open to any ideas Elisa had for improvement, and was free with positive feedback.

And when Elicia’s birthday came around he actually encouraged her to take leave and spend the day with her family.

Everyday he treated Elisa with respect, the Brigadier General was raised a little higher in her esteem. But it wasn’t until the unit went out to celebrate Grand’s 40th birthday, at the local pub, that Elisa was reminded of why Maes had been so quick to sing Grand’s praises.

It was pure coincidence that it even came up.

Elisa knew better than to ask any one she worked with about their time at war, it was rather a sore spot that she’d joined–been made a Major–without ever having fought. And Grand wasn’t actually one to brag about his achievements himself. So left to their own devices the two would have never gotten around to discussing it.

But then someone had joked about Grand’s being 40 meaning he was now too old to keep up with their drinking. (Completely ignoring the bartender who’d snorted and said Grand frequented that pub every Friday). And the next thing Elisa knew she was part of some impromptu drinking game.

“No, no, ask him something good, ‘lisa! He has to answer, so make it count.”

“Don't put this on me I don't know what to ask!”

“Jus’ something . Ask about–oh! Tell her ‘bout your promotion Brigadier!”

Grand shrugged, throwing back another shot which caused the table to groan as they rushed to match his pace. Elise smiled behind her mug of water, grateful that she’d begged off the competition with the excuse of babysitting Elicia tomorrow. “Not much to tell. Fessler got shot, I was next in-line, and the war was still on.”

Captain Felix–the man who’d been fool enough to suggest the drinking contest–snorted. “Yeah, he sure was sh-shot. *hiccup* St-tray bullet, right sir?” And just like that vague memories rose to the surface of Elisa’s mind, tying together old letters from Maes, with long forgotten facts from that first life.

“The fighting should end soon, just had a major Religious figure s———— ———. Things are looking up!”

“I got a promotion! The old Brigadier was shot and they field promoted Colonel G—— which left a vacuum that they were quick to fill. Don’t worry about me, that stray bullet was a freak accident. The new Brigadier is committed to ending this war without any more of us being shot.”

“The Supreme Cleric left to talk to F—— B——, today. Would it be heretical of me to pray it all works out? I want to come home.”

“Your CO was Brigadier General Fessler, then? That means my brother-in-law was stationed with you.” I know , her eyes seemed to scream. I know the truth . “Not sure what you’ve heard, Captain, but Maes swears it was a stray bullet, so…”

Felix snorted but declared Grand’s question answered and pushed to move the game along. Several hours, and a table full of passed-out soldiers later, Grand turned to Elisa.

“Your brother-in-law is Lt. Colonel Hughes?”

“Yes,” Elisa nodded, surprised this was new information.

“Hmm.” A sharp nod. “And he’s spoken about Fessler?”

“...he wrote letters at the time. Not much could be safely said, but he certainly trusted you more than he ever did the deceased Brigadier.” Elisa paused to observe Grand, but at his relaxed aura decided he’d be fine if she continued to push. “When he learned you were my CO he told me I’d lucked out. That you didn’t play games, and that you knew how to make the tough choices.”

"...it wasn't a choice. Every soldier there knew something had to be done."

Elisa stared at her water, watching the condensation make its way slowly down the side of the glass, gathering other droplets along the way. "The only thing needed for the triumph of evil, is that good men do nothing." Her eyes raised to catch Grand's, "I'm glad you were there to do something. "

"Is that why you helped those refugees?" Grand’s eyes narrowed in thought. “You were fighting evil?”

A scoff. "Nothing so heroic, I helped because they asked." Elisa shrugged, dropping her gaze. "And I stayed because they asked."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"And is that why you became a State Alchemist? Because they asked?"

"No. If a stranger asks if I can help them, I'll try. But family ? Family doesn't ever need to ask."

"Family?"

"Ro–Colonel Mustang used to say the Elder treated me like a daughter.” Elisa shook her head, trying to clear out thoughts of Roy. “But it's more than that, it’s...I once met a woman, at the refugee camp, who’d watched her older sister be gunned down by a soldier. She was a noncombatant, but that hadn't saved her." A deep breath. “That same woman handed me her baby a day after giving birth, saying she needed to meet her auntie.” Elisa blinked back tears. “She’d lost everything in the war, her parents, her sister, her home and culture. We took it from her…but she didn’t care. I cooked with them, I prayed with them, I laughed with them, and so–in her eyes–I was one of them. She lost her sister, but she grew to call me sister. Asked for my help naming her child. I watched that baby grow in a world where I am his Aunt. They had nothing, but they saw a lost Amestrian girl, wandering the East alone…and they put aside their pain to adopt her.”

Grand gave a serious nod. “So they're your family.”

“Yes, but more, they're my…they're mine , and I'm theirs. I didn’t fight in the war and I’m not a policy maker, so I don’t blame myself for what happened in Ishval. It’s not about the past, I became a State Alchemist to help them secure a future.”

“...I never did it for them.” Elisa raised a brow in question. “The Ishvalans, I didn’t pull that trigger for them . It was for me, my men,” a grunt, “that place was hell and I wanted us out.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I read your file. I don’t know what Corsair was doing all year, but it wasn’t training you. Like those refugees are yours, you are mine. I take care of my men, make sure they’re properly trained. You’re smart, but you care far too much for someone who never learned how to fight.”

A heavy silence fell as Elisa felt the truth of the statement settle in her bones. Only to have the moment broken by a loud snore from one of the cadets. The sound seemed to be a cue to Grand who broke out laughing. “Let’s get these lightweights home.”

Feb 13th 1914

“I’m sorry for never understanding how impressive you are.” Laughter crackled across the landline in Gracia’s kitchen. “I’m serious, Riza, Grand’s been teaching me for months and I still couldn’t hit a stationary target from 20 feet away! At least, not with any accuracy.”

“Most Alchemists don't rely on firearms. You’d need to be able to stop and center yourself first, and your mind runs a little fast for that.”

Elisa snorted, her mind did like to get away from her at times, but this was definitely just a skill issue. Grand had been forcing her to condition, and she was in much better shape than before, but she still struggled with the recoil. She wasn’t quite as bad as she said, she would hit her target if they got with-in 20 feet of her, she just wouldn’t be able to control where she hit. And arming someone with a weapon when they couldn’t take a non-lethal shot if they tried…well, there was a reason Grand had shifted gears.

“I’ve been doing better at the hand-to-hand stuff, at least. Still not sure how I’m expected to pull alchemy into it. But I was able to flip my training partner the other day, so they’re moving me on to more advanced moves.”

More laughter crackled out, echoing through the kitchen, and bringing a smile to Elisa’s face. There was something very soothing about talking to a friend. A magic of its own, reaching down and healing the pains of life. It brought Elisa joy to hear Riza, off-duty, so carefree.

“I would pay good money to watch you flip Roy.”

A pang of pain shot through Elisa as her smile dimmed. Once again she was reminded that with joy came pain. She loved to hear Riza’s voice–it just always reminded her that it wasn’t Roy’s . “R-right,” she forced out a chuckle, “I’m sure he’d be floored .”

A groan. “ Aren’t you meant to be a writer? What was that pun?”

“That was the epitome of humor. I’ll have you know Elicia always laughs at my puns.”

“ Poor Gracia, I don’t know how she survives surrounded by two idiots who spoil her daughter like that.”

“You’re just jealous Maes made me the vice-president of the Elicia-fanclub!” Elisa joked, “anyway, that's enough about Grand’s endless struggles to teach me self-defense, what’s new with you, Riza?”

“ Well, I finally got that dog. ”

“What, no-way?!”

“ Yes. His name is Black Hayate and I’m working on training him right now. He doesn’t flinch when I go to the range, I believe I could get him approved as a military-dog.”

“Oh, that's amazing! You'll have to let me know when his exam is, I'll make my way down there to support him!”

“ You don't have to come. ”

“What! Of course I do?! That's my friends’ son!”

“ No, I meant, Roy will be there.”

Elisa froze. She knew what Riza was getting at, those listening in probably assumed that was a warning due to their previous engagement, but it wasn't. Rather, it was a warning that if Elisa showed up she’d be running into the man she…a blush painted her cheeks as the silence stretched on.

A large part of Elisa wanted to retract her statement, take the out Riza offered and run with it. Eliza was a coward, she had always accepted that about herself, this rush of anxiety at the thought of seeing Roy wasn’t something she wanted to embrace. Rather, she hated it, and if it was up to her she would hide in her room and avoid the truth of it all, just to get the fear to stop. But…but there was a small voice that whispered another truth, one that she knew wouldn't go away even if Eliza spent the rest of her life avoiding Roy. ‘ You miss him’ it whispered. And Elisa was a coward, she didn't know if she would ever say anything to Roy, but she knew she couldn’t live a life avoiding him, either.

“...that's fine,” she whispered, fully aware of how awkward her pause had been. “He’s best friends with Maes, and your CO, I was always going to run into him again. At least this way I control when it happens.”

Riza’s pause was a lot shorter. “Then I'll see you on August 25th, and Elisa?”

“Hmm?”

“I'm proud of you.”

~:~

An hour later found Elisa in that now-familiar pub, dropping onto a stool next to Grand, “I need to figure out this alchemical fighting thing.”

Grand raised a brow in surprise, “What brought this on?”

Elisa looked at the man she'd come to respect and felt her rehearsed lie die on her tongue. “...I'm going to see Roy again, in August.”

“And, what, you're planning to challenge him to a duel?”

Elisa shook her head, that wasn’t what she was getting at, “no. But I'm going to see him again in August, and it's only February.” She was asking for a distraction, for a project to focus her all into, something to keep her from immediately calling Riza up and canceling on her.

“I'm proud of you.”

She clung to those words, desperately. Riza wasn’t one to praise easily, and maybe it was a bad idea to base life decisions on someone-else’s opinion. But Elisa trusted Riza, trusted her to see the situation clearly in a way Elisa hadn’t been able to in years , if ever. (The question of when, exactly, she'd started liking Roy, plagued her these days.) If Riza said she was proud then Elisa seeing Roy again was probably the right move. And not something she should cancel just because the thought of it flooded her with anxiety.

Grand held up the drink in his hand, “I’m a good fighter Frey, but I’ve been at this for awhile now.”

“I'm not looking to duel you either . I just want ideas.”

“Well, I got some of those. Do you know where you want to put your array?”

“Where?”

“Right, I have my rings, Kimbly had those tattoos, and I’m not sure where Fullmetal carved his array–maybe inside the automail–but we three have partial arrays that activate when we touch our hands together. Then you have Mustang with his gloves and Armstrong with his gauntlets, they use more singularly purposed arrays, but they’re complete and so don’t require a touch activation. We all keep the exact mechanics to ourselves, of course, but it's assumed Armstrong uses Kinetic Energy and Mustang uses Friction, as starting material in their reaction.”

Elisa knew this; she’d thought about Roy’s glove-method, had tried (and failed) to recreate Edward’s clapping array. She’d stared long and hard at Grand’s rings, hoping for some inspiration. But this was the first time she’d compared all of those alchemists in the same thought; and in doing so something stood out to her. “Hands.”

“...what?”

“All of you, all of us , we always activate our arrays through our hands. That’s why all battle alchemists focus on fist-heavy martial arts!”

Grand looked at her like she was an idiot. “Energy can only be released through the hands, there are no energetic veins that lead elsewhere.”

Elisa nodded along, she knew that, knew it wasn’t as simple as mentally directing energy to her feet, or head, or somewhere. There were no natural paths that led that way, Grand was right. It’s the same reason you didn’t lose blood when you cut your hair, blood simply didn’t flow there. Elisa knew that, but she also knew there was something to this idea, something workable. Alphonse didn’t even have a body but he was able to transmute, which implied there was a cognitive component to energy manipulation. And the Alkahestry of the East allowed for long distance alchemy by traveling along the underground dragon lines, so it’s not as if energy couldn’t travel distances, it just needed a line to connect them.

“Do you know if Kimbley used a special ink in his tattoos? Oh, and Central Library probably has an Alchemical Anatomy book, right? Nevermind, I’ll go check myself. Thanks Grand, enjoy your drink!”

The Brigadier narrowed his eyes in confusion before shaking his head and returning to his drink. “She’s just as crazy as Mustang.”

~:~

This project ended up being the perfect distraction for Elisa. Everyday after work she’d found herself in the Central Library looking at everything from circuit board diagrams, to elementary school primers on alchemical theories. She’d quickly befriended Sheska, who was moonlighting as the local librarian, and often cornered her for book recommendations without even bothering with the catalog.

She’d started joining Grand on Friday’s at his bar, the one time he was relaxed enough to entertain her crazy theory and debate it with her. She’d tracked down the only Ishvalan tattoo artist in the city and secured their promise to help when the time came.

Elisa kept herself so busy that she had no time to think about anything but the impossibility of what she was attempting, and then, one day, she did it.

“Check my math.”

“I came here to get away from work.”

Elisa just smiled at Grand and pushed her paper across the bar counter, “I did it Basque, check my math.”

Sharp eyes shot her way before dropping to the paper in front of him. “You fixed the output issues?” Elisa nodded as his eyes dropped to her equations, following the energy calculations. Five minutes passed in complete silence, and then Grand grunted, “looks like you got the temperature down to 40 centigrade. You’ll definitely be aware of the reaction, but it shouldn’t burn your hands off.”

“Think you can give me tomorrow off so I can get those tattoos?”

“Only if you give me a front-row seat to your duel with Mustang.”

Elisa just shook her head, exasperated. While Grand often tried to play dumb he was actually an incredibly observant man. It had taken him all of two weeks to figure out that Elisa’s feelings for Roy, while complicated, were less than negative.

Of course, he believed the whole engagement charade, and so had gotten it in his mind that Roy had done something stupid and Elisa, who hadn’t had any other way to address it, had put an end to things. According to Grand one good spar ought to put things to right. Elisa tried to claim that Roy hadn’t done anything, she just didn’t love him anymore, but it turns out that’s hard to say believably when it’s a lie.

“I’m not fighting the Colonel, I’m just going there to support Riza. I hope I never have to fight anyone. ” Grand snorted. “I know, I know, better to be prepared. But, hey, at least I’ll be prepared for my recertification exam?”

“You pull this off at that exam and they may just promote you.”

“Please don’t even joke about that.”

Grand burst out laughing and Elisa just sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. It wasn’t healthy, Elisa knew, that Grand frequented this pub every Friday. She’d carefully maneuvered to always talk shop on those days, just to try and curb the amount he drank. Still, time and proximity had built an unlikely friendship, and while it wasn’t healthy, Elisa couldn’t deny she appreciated how much more relaxed Grand allowed himself to be out here.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll put in the paperwork, you don’t have to come in tomorrow. Although I don’t know how you convinced an Ishvalan to give you Alchemical tattoos.”

“They’re not — nevermind.”

Aug 25th 1914

“Take your shirt off, let me see!”

“Gosh, Riza, buy a girl a drink, first.” Elisa ducked the hand that went to swat her head, chuckling, “alright, alright!” Seconds later Elisa stood, shirtless, in Riza’s apartment, showing off her latest creation.

“It doesn’t look like an alchemy circle,” hands traced the lines that ran along Elisa’s left forearm, and down her spine, disappearing into her pants. “It almost looks like a snake?”

Elisa smirked, pulling up her pants’ hem to show a serpent’s head resting along her left ankle. “It is a snake.” Riza raised a brow in question. “This is Aapep, the giant serpent from Xerxes legend, deity of darkness and disorder. According to the tales I’ve found he exists to oppose Truth.”

Sharp eyes narrowed, “and what does the chaos serpent do ?”

Elisa shrugged her shirt on while thinking of how to explain it in non-technical terms. “He sort of acts like a wire? We know the Alkhestry of the East can be used over long-distances because they make use of the dragon-pulse. Aapep sort of does that on my body, takes the energy that would naturally flow to my hands and redirects it down his body, to his head.”

“And this will protect you?”

Elisa just smiled before closing her eyes and visualizing the reaction, the energy flowing down her arm, along her back, down her legs, until it finally reached the alchemical symbol etched into her shoes’ heel. The circle briefly lit up, before the entire floor iced over. Riza raised a brow in surprise.

“I need to work on my activation speed, and even at my fastest there would be a time delay compared to alchemists’ using their hands. But this way I could sew different circles anywhere along my sleeves or pants and activate any of them. And even if someone were to handcuff me, or something, I could still transmute!”

“That sounds…different.”

“Right? Most people watch an Alchemist’s hands when they fight, they’d block a kick but their attention would be on my hands. They’d never imagine I could transmute an ice-spear from the boot they’d let through their guard.”

“Planning to get into a lot of fights?” The question was asked in a joking manner but there was a weight behind it that any who knew Riza could pick up on. Elisa felt her smile slip at that weight, at the implications Riza was probing into.

“...no. But fighting may come, whatever I plan.” Elisa shrugged uncomfortably, “and Maes has really been on my case about improving my self-defense these last few weeks.”

Riza nodded once, sharp, “he does go through phases of being overly protective.”

Elisa laughed at the understatement of the century. She knew it came with the territory, that working in investigations often meant Maes’ was exposed to information that he couldn’t share with his friends. And sometimes becoming a mother hen was all he could to keep sane. Still, Elisa could have dealt without him practically shoving her on the train this morning.

Riza shared a commiserating smile, before turning to the back of the apartment and letting out a whistle. Allowing the cutest of dogs to come bounding up, immediately lightening the mood.

“Is this the man of the hour?”

A smile tugged at Riza’s mouth before she dropped into a faux-serious expression. “Yes. Major Elisa Frey I’d like to introduce you to Military-hopeful Black Hayate. Black Hayate, Major Frey.” Hayate let out a bark in a greeting and it was all Elisa could do to keep herself from smiling.

“How do you do, Mr. Hayate?” Elisa held her hand out, and squealed when the dog gave her his paw to shake. “Oh, aren’t you just the cutest boy I’ve ever met! You need to tell me if your mom is too strict, okay? I can talk to her if you need me to.” She wagged her finger at Hayate who seemed to nod at her words, before wagging his tail in a way that conveyed, I’m very happy, but thank you.

“You’re going to spoil him.”

Elisa looked up from the greatest of all dogs and adopted a very serious expression. “Riza, I have only known Black Hayate for 1 minute, but if anyone hurt him I would kill them and then myself.”

A hand came up and smacked her on the back of the head. “Don’t joke about that. Most people don’t understand your humor. I don’t want to deal with someone putting you on suicide watch.”

Elisa wrinkled her nose before turning back to Hayate and faux-whispering, “that’s your mom’s way of saying she cares about me. A lot of people can't tell, but she’s actually very protective.” Hayate barked in agreement and Elisa shot her friend a shit-eating grin.

“Honestly, you're as bad as Roy.”

A blush instantly painted Elisa’s face, and suddenly Riza was the one smiling.

“Shut-up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Elisa turned back to Hayate, “I take it all back. Your mom doesn’t care, she’s a very cruel person finding humor in her friend’s pain.”

Laughter exploded out of Riza and Elisa felt the last of her stress melt away.

I miss this.

~:~

“Explain it to me again, please?”

Rebecca shot Elisa a knowing stare, before launching into a repeat of the explanation she’d just given. “This is more of an entrance exam than anything, Riza needs to show off that Hayate responds to commands, that he will bite when directed and release on command. There’s a brief obstacle course and a basic stress test, but when he passes he’ll enter the training program.”

“And that one is how long?”

“The program lasts 120 hours, so about 3 weeks. After which, assuming he completes all benchmarks, Hayate will be officially assigned to Riza as a military dog.”

“Okay, and…” Elisa frantically searched her mind for some other question to ask. Desperate for an excuse to keep looking at Rebecca, to keep from looking at Roy, who stood maybe 10 feet away. Becca once again took pity on her, likely guessing her intent, if misreading the reason.

“The entrance exam is actually rather new, Lt. General Grumman put it in place about 20 years ago when he observed the amount of dogs failing out of the military academy. Apparently he had grown up on a farm before enlisting and knew a thing-or-two about raising dogs. I once heard…”

And just like that Rebecca filled the dead air until the exam started and Elisa could turn to focus on Hayate. Of course, all she’d really done was delay the inevitable, since there was no avoiding Roy when Hayate passed and he ‘suggested’ they all celebrate together. Thankfully Riza’s apartment was far too small to properly house her squadron and friends, so they’d ended up at a nearby park (a small oasis amongst desert sands).

Honestly, Elisa was growing frustrated with herself, it felt ridiculous that after a decade of friendship she would be anxious at the thought of talking to Roy. And yet she couldn’t help her almost instinctive avoidance of the man.

In the end it was, of all people, Havoc who got them talking again.

She hadn’t been guarding against Roy’s team; she’d barely interacted with them when she was assigned to the East, and so hadn’t worried they'd approach her at all. But Elisa had made one big miscalculation, Roy’s team was incredibly loyal to their commander, and they’d had a front-row seat to Roy’s mood those past couple months.

“Long-time no see, Major. How's Central treatin’ ya?”

“Oh, Second Lieutenant! Well, it's been treating me well, it is nice being close to Gracia, again.”

“Please, call me Jean. When you say my title like that you sound way too much like the First Lieutenant.”

“Do I? Well, I suppose we did grow up together. She’s basically my sister.”

At that bit of information Havo– Jean’s eyes lit up, and suddenly he was pestering Elisa with questions about a 14 year old Riza. It was comfortable ground, which quickly had Elisa relaxing as she reminisced about a simpler time.

“She really hid your shoes so you had to go out barefoot?!”

“Don’t let her professionalism fool you, Riza is surprisingly mischievous when she lets her hair down.”

A sharp grin stretched across Havoc’s face. “I need to see this. Come on, there’s the First Lieutenant, let’s say hi!”

And it was a product of how much she’d relaxed that Elisa had agreed before even looking over at Riza. Which is how she’d found herself frozen standing next to Roy, watching Havoc trying to get a rise out of Riza.

“You can relax.”

Elisa jumped at the sound of Roy’s voice, tensing further. Roy shot her a confused look. “I mean it,” he continued, “Riza considers everyone here a friend. They won’t question us talking to each other.”

Elisa nodded, darting her eyes to Roy’s, only to freeze at the soft look he was sending her way. “R-right.” She mumbled, dropping her gaze.

Roy furrowed his brow in thought. “Are you okay? Maes said work was going well?”

“It is, I'm still working on incorporating my alchemy into my fighting style, but Grand’s been great!”

“...is that so?”

“Yeah,” Elisa continued, ignorant of the jealousy coating Roy’s voice. “I’ve figured out what I'm doing for the circle, but I'm still working on the timing of it all.” As they entered into familiar territory Elisa felt herself relaxing, locking eyes with her friend, again.

“Oh?”

“Yep, I actually stole the idea from Master, except my ink is more than just notes.” Pulling back her sleeve Elisa revealed a portion of her snake tattoo to Roy. “I created a conduit following old alkahestry principles.”

“Fascinating, where does it re-direct towards?”

Eliza smirked at Roy, “I promised some good people that I’d only show you in a spar.”

Roy raised a brow with a smirk. “So we’re going to spar, are we?”

“Grand’s convinced it’s the only way we’re getting back together.” Roy paused, and Elisa blushed red when she realized what she'd said. “Not that we are getting back together, obviously, you know that. Just that he’s convinced himself that we–that I–he has his own narrative, is all.”

“...”

Eliza kept her gaze steadily ahead, as she beat her blush back down. She could feel Roy’s eyes boring into her skull, and just knew he was trying to read into her statements. She cursed herself for not just letting the silence be.

“...but why does he–”

“--oh look, Havoc’s done! Time for me to talk to Riza!” Eliza said in her worst attempt at misdirection to date. “See you later!” She called, running off. The weight of Roy’s stare followed her as she made it to Riza’s side, and stayed on her for the rest of the night. Much to the chagrin of Eliza’s poor heart.

~:~

Roy watched Eliza run off in shock, eyes trained on her red ears, mind running a million miles an hour. Roy knew General Grand, not as well as Maes, but well enough to know he was smarter than he often portrayed himself. He wasn’t one to speak idle words, even in jest. If he thought a spar could mend their hypothetical engagement then he must have seen something in Eliza that suggested she’d want that.

It could just be that she’s missed Roy’s company. Longing for friendship wouldn’t be too hard to misinterpret, and up until five minutes ago Roy would have bet good money on that being the case. But now…Roy knows Eliza, has known her since she was fourteen. He’s seen her anxious from the attention of strangers, frustrated at life’s injustices, and drunk out of her mind. It wasn’t odd to see Eliza flushed.

But this? This had been different.

She’d been embarrassed, obviously, she clearly hadn’t meant to share that tidbit on General Grand. But flushing from embarrassment was one thing, refusing to make eye-contact and then fleeing was something else entirely. Something Roy was intimately familiar with, since he’d been experiencing it since his academy graduation. Somehow, and for some reason, while Eliza had been in Central, she’d become aware of Roy.

It seemed ridiculous, like something Roy would have conjured up to give himself false hope. But the longer he watched her, the more it became obvious that Eliza was actively avoiding meeting his gaze. That she was aware his eyes were fixed on her, and that it was having some sort of an effect. Roy didn’t let himself jump to any conclusions, there was a big jump from getting flushed in someone’s presence to feelings of any depth. But even though he forced himself to temper his expectations, he couldn’t help but mentally redraft several of his plans.

After all, if there was even the slightest chance that Eliza might consider him, well, then, he’d need to get his unit transferred to Central. Distance may make the heart grow fonder, but Roy prefered more direct tactics in his strategy.

Roy watched Eliza awkwardly about face when he started walking in her direction and bit back a smile. He continued walking out of the party with a shake of his head. Riza would understand him leaving early, he was sure. After all, he had to go see her grandfather about setting up some transfer orders.

Aug 30th 1914

It hadn’t even been a question of where to go, when Elisa’s train pulled back into Central. It was a Friday night and Elisa knew Grand would want to hear all about her time in the East–even if he'd never admit it. So she’d rushed off to that local pub expecting to see Grand throwing back a drink.

She didn’t.

Grand had been there, the bartender confirmed, but he’d left for base less than ten minutes ago. It shouldn’t have set-off any red flags, Grand being missing. Eliza had rushed but she’d known there’d be a chance he’d have headed home. Yet there was something about the situation that just made dread fill her stomach, made the hair on her arms stand up. Eliza could just sense something was amiss, so when the explosion sounded in the distance she found herself out the door and half-way across the street before she’d even consciously decided to investigate. And she’d found herself at the source of the explosion–a tiny alleyway–before she’d realized why something had felt off.

"Who are you?"

Blood.

Elisa silently stared at the blood-splattered ground, ice creeping up her veins. Grand's wasn't the first death she'd witnessed, during the Cholera outbreak she'd been forced to watch children fade away. But this, this was the first murder she'd seen.

Elisa hadn't planned on ever running into Scar, at least not until after he'd given up being a serial killer. She'd known, of course, that he was around and would be surfacing. She'd vaguely thought to try and save his victims, but couldn't recall who they were–beyond being state alchemists.

"...another military dog?"

While she hadn't planned to meet Scar, Elisa always imagined that, should their paths cross, she'd have the good sense to run. That the fear which she had lived with her whole life would continue to feed her self-preservation and push her to try and escape. But, standing there, staring at the body of someone she had come to call 'friend', it wasn't fear Elisa felt.

"I'll give you a chance to pray to your god."

It was anger.

" Our god." She spat, in the language of his people, " or have you forsaken Ishvala along with his teachings?!" Sharp green eyes met shocked red ones. "I won't give you my name. I won't give you that honor . " Anger, unlike any Elisa had known, was coursing through her. To be face-to-face with the man who had just thoughtlessly murdered her friend, and not be able to do anything about it– not without seriously risking the future as she knew it–was causing a fire to rise in her.

Elisa couldn't attack Scar, using alchemy would seal her fate in his eyes, at which point only one of them would be walking out of this alley alive. Scar couldn't die, and Elisa was rather vested in living, herself, so she couldn't attack Scar. But her anger demanded blood, so she struck the only way she could, with her words.

"You may call me Prykuit ," her words sailed across the alley, " Prophet, as an Elder has so named me." Scar narrowed his eyes in thought. "And to you I give the name Mykaiil . Murderer . For that is what you are!"

"...a true Prophet would know why I have chosen this path."

"A true Monk ," Elisa spat, "would not have attacked defenseless doctors, or a drunk soldier who risked his life to allow a Supreme Cleric to broker peace for Ishval!"

At the mention of the Rockbells Scar stumbled back. It was a mistake, Elisa realized, as soon as the words left her mouth. She shouldn't have known that, she couldn't have known that, not in the eyes of Scar.

"Prophet ," He whispered, eyes wide before flickering to her uniform and hardening. It was a mistake, Elisa knew, because she had no way of predicting Scar's reaction. "...I shall let you go." Scar settled on, "if you are a true Prophet for my people then Ishvala shall see that our paths will not cross again." A nod and he was gone, leaving Elisa to slump to the ground near Grand’s body and finally break down.

" I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him." She mentally chanted, but even as she said it she knew it wasn't true. Scar was a murderer, but in truth so was Roy, so was Riza and half the people she worked with. She didn't condone his choices but with time and distance she would be able to forgive a repentant version of the man. No, in truth, it wasn't Scar that Elisa hated, it wasn't Scar she blamed for Grand’s death, it was herself.

“Elisa?!”

Sept 2nd, 1914

“She still in there?”

“...it’s bad, Maes. I’ve never seen her shut down like this before.”

Elisa pulled her blankets over her head, trying to drown out the concerned voices hovering just outside her door.

“I knew she considered him a friend,” Gracia continued, “but she’s acting like–”

“–like it was Roy?”

“Like it was you !”

Silence stretched on while Elisa tried to breath through the metaphorical gut punch she’d received. She knew she’d been worrying Gracia. Since the moment Maes had escorted her home, shaking and sobbing, Grand’s blood still soaking her shoes, she had been a mess. There wasn’t much hiding how badly she’d been affected when she’d gone functionally mute. But Elisa had thought she’d successfully hidden the pure panic that arose any time she looked at her brother-in-law.

“I'll just have to remind her that I’m not a state alchemist, that she’s a bigger target.”

The problem was that Elisa had allowed herself to become complacent. After successfully saving Nina she had let herself believe that it would be fine, she’d be able to save Maes. After all, she was now in Central, and she had future knowledge on her side, surely there’d be something she could do. But Grand’s death had reminded her of a crucial fact, for all of her knowledge, for all of her skill, if someone was bleeding out in front of her she was powerless.

Worse, still, she knew Maes, knew there was no world in which he didn’t investigate the crest when he realized the connections. And for all the contingencies Elisa could plan for, how does one plan for a shapeshifter ? It left her spiraling in this house because any time Elisa looked at Gracia, or Elicia, all she could feel was crushing guilt at what was to come. And when she looked at Maes, well, Elisa couldn’t look at Maes. Not when all she saw was his death.

Elisa had already lost a brother, once, and it had shattered her. Broken her in a way that not even rebirth could fully fix. Gracia had helped, having an older sister hale and whole had done wonders for letting her move on. But that fear of death, of loss, had always lingered just beneath the surface. And seeing Grand’s body, blood splattered across the floor, had brought it all bubbling up, choking her with images of Maes in his place. Bleeding out, dying , and Elisa right there, unable to change a thing.

Logically Elisa knew she was just wasting time, knew the best move would be to get up and start doing something. But it was as if her body had forgotten how to move, as if there was a wall between “I should get up” and getting up . And the longer that went by without any changes the more Elisa would berate herself, after all this was her brother’s life , and here she was, so pathetic, that she was just wasting her time laying there. Of course, those thoughts weren’t exactly motivating, and just worked to push Elisa deeper into her depressive state. Until several days had passed and Elisa couldn’t even bring herself to comfort her sister, who was right outside of her door.

“...Elisa?”

Couldn’t even bring herself to call out to Maes, who–more than anyone–deserved an explanation.

“...I'm coming in, okay?”

Couldn’t even grunt to let him know that it wasn’t okay. That she did not have the mental or emotional capacity to look at him right now, thank you very much.

“Alright. Let’s talk.”

Elisa didn’t want to talk, but she also didn’t want to move. So she figured that she could compromise and just listen. She doubted there was anything Maes could say that would snap her out of her funk, but he was more than welcome to try.

“So, Roy says the Elric brothers tried to talk to Tucker in prison.”

Elisa’s head whipped around so fast, locking eyes with her smiling brother-in-law.

“I figured you’d be interested in that,” he continued as if he hadn’t just broken Elisa’s brain. “I should warn you, they seemed rather interested in why he was imprisoned, and in who tipped me off.”

~:~

Unlike Gracia, Maes wasn’t surprised when Elisa shut-down. He wished he was, wished he wasn’t aware of exactly how the human brain could break and turn on itself. But he was an intelligence officer, what’s more, he’d fought a war. Maes had seen that shell-shocked look in too many soldier’s to not instantly recognize it for what it was. A soldier who blamed themselves for being too late.

Despite the fact that she wasn’t half the fighter that Grand was–and Maes’ blood ran cold when he thought about what could have happened had Elisa arrived five minutes earlier–her brain had convinced her that the Brigadier General’s death was entirely her fault. Worse still, it seems to have convinced her that Maes’ death was also coming, and soon.

Maes would have loved to comfort her, to tell her not to worry, that nothing would ever happen to him. But not only would it do nothing to shake the sort of fear that now gripped his little sister, it also wasn’t something he could actually promise. Not while he still wore his uniform. So, in the absence of comfort, Maes offered up the only other tactic he knew could work.

“So, Roy says the Elric brothers tried to talk to Tucker in prison.”

Distraction.

“I figured you’d be interested in that. I should warn you, they seemed rather interested in why he was imprisoned, and in who tipped me off.”

It wasn’t even a lie. The Elric brothers had been very interested in how Elisa had realized there was something wrong with Tucker’s chimera. Maes knew that to the two boys the idea of a young child being embroiled in alchemy beyond their years, hit close to home. So the fact that Elisa was able to step in, prevent tragedy? Well, she’d already won the respect of some unruly teenagers.

“...why?”

Maes very carefully didn’t react to the whispered word. Didn’t treat it as if it was the first word Elisa had spoken in two days. Kept his tone just as light and conversational as always.

“Well, if you’re asking why they spoke to Tucker, I think they’re following up on something they saw in Lior? They apparently had some questions on the limitations of chimera’s and heard he was the leading expert in the field.” Which Maes personally felt was a weak excuse to stay his execution. But it wasn't his place to question such orders. “If you meant why are they interested in you ?”

Elisa shifted slightly, eyebrows furrowing. Which Maes took as an enthusiastic, ‘yes, that’s what I care about.’

“Well, you have to see it from their perspective. Some unknown alchemist comes into her exams, takes one look at Tucker’s work, and is able to deduce that he’s committed human transmutation. She then champions for his young daughter to be removed from his custody, and for him to be charged with the murder of his wife.” Maes shrugged.

“...but–”

“–and they haven’t even heard about your ill-fated engagement to Roy. Although, how they missed that when they’re down East, I haven’t the slightest.”

“...but why ?” Elisa stressed, face confused in a way that was endearingly well-known to Maes. It was the face she made any time she was placed in a new social situation, he hadn’t seen it in years, but he knew it well. It was the face that screamed, ‘nothing is acting like it’s supposed to.’ All genii had their quirks, and Elisa’s was that her thoughts were so ordered, her understanding of the world so precise, that when it differed from what she expected she reverted to the lost look of a child. It was incredibly endearing, and seeing it in this situation, after days of Elisa drawing into herself, it was also incredibly heartening.

“Lizzy,” and Maes couldn’t stop his smile from brightening when Elisa wrinkled her nose. “They find you interesting. ”

“...but he’s the fullmetal alchemist .”

“And you’re the crystal alchemist.” A blink of non-comprehension had Maes fondly smiling. “Elisa, you do realize that you’re a legend in your own right?”

The silence that followed informed Maes that no, Elisa had not, in fact, ever stopped to think about her own reputation. Maes wondered if that meant she was ignorant to how HQ viewed her and Roy. The bets that had been taken as to when they’d get back together. The whispered tales of star-crossed lovers who would exchange letters even during the worst of the war. Alchemists tended to be loners, it was rare enough for them to start a family, it was practically unheard of for them to start a family together . Add to that the rumors that circulated about Elisa herself–the young girl who went around helping civilians during the war. Who wrote children’s stories to increase morale. Who took her money, and her time, and dedicated it to helping Ishavlen refugees after the fighting stopped?–and you had a love story for the ages. The saint and the sinner, the soldier and the humanitarian. Even their alchemy styles, fire and water, helped sell this story of a tragic love trying to overcome all obstacles.

Elisa wasn’t just a legend, she was the legend. She was the most well-known female alchemist in all of Amestris, at least, in living memory. There was a reason there’d been such a push to get her into the military. It was also the reason that men like Cortair–insecure, ignorant–worked so hard to break her. Elisa brought with her a lot of public approval, and, given what Grand had hinted at before his death, she would only become more of a legend following her license renewal in a few days.

“...I can’t be a legend.”

The words were soft, barely a whisper, but they were enough to snap Maes back to the present. To the face of his little sister, eyes welling with tears. “...why not?” It wasn’t what Maes wanted to say, he wanted to reassure Elisa that she was amazing. To sing her praises like he would Gracia or Elicia. But he knew that this was a fragile moment, a turning point. Some wounds needed to be lanced, needed to drain out all the poison, before healing could truly begin. If Elisa was going to open up, Maes was going to listen.

“...s’myfault.”

“...”

Elisa looked up at Maes with distraught eyes, “did you hear me? It’s my fault .”

“What is?”

“Everything! Basque’s death, your death. Maybe Roy’s if I changed too much, god, maybe all of Amestris . Why did I think I could help? I’m not a legend Maes, I'm just a girl . Just a girl who can’t do anything right .”

Maes leaned down and hugged Elisa. Her words didn’t make sense, and the intelligence officer in him couldn’t help but try and puzzle through what she was implying. But information could wait, right now all that mattered was letting Elisa know she was safe, letting her know that Maes was still there, and that whatever was going on he would help.

“You’re not just a girl,” he whispered in Elisa’s ear, “you’re my little sister, you got that? And my little sister can do anything she puts her mind to.” Elisa sobbed harder. “She just may need some reminding that she’s not alone.” She gripped the back of his jacket. “Understand, Elisa? I'm here for you, no questions asked, if you need me, I'll listen, I'll trust, and I'll help. ”

It was several minutes before Elisa’s crying subsided, but when it finally did she looked up at Maes with fire in her eyes. “I…I have something to tell you, and I need you to believe me.” Maes nodded without a thought. He already had a few guesses, given what she’d revealed, still he braced himself for anything. But, even given the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit smug. When everything was settled and his two closest friends were finally married, he’d be sure to rub it into Roy’s face that he’d gotten the truth first.

Even if the truth oddly required Elisa pulling down the special blackout drapes she’d requested, and turning off all of her lights; bathing the room in darkness.

“What are you–”

“–I know the future.”

Sept 4th, 1914

About four day after his death, Elisa was standing in front of a panel of judges and showing off the very thing Grand had helped her perfect.

“I was inspired by Eastern Alkhestry. The calculations were a little tricky, but–” with a stamp of her foot, ice spread across the floor, coating the inner room in a thin film. “I'm still working out the practical applications,” Elisa lied, “and how to mass produce the technique so it’s useful for future missions.” Another lie, this technique was staying with her for as long as Bradley ruled. “But I’m confident I will be able to make more strides in my research, now that I'm in Central.” That one was the truth, for all that Elisa had grown to care for the East, the lack of humidity did make it hard to experiment with water-based transmutations. And having Corsair as a CO had hardly helped.

With a nod Bradley waved Elisa to the side of the room where she would await their judgement. Not that she was remotely worried. She could have just as easily done nothing but re-affirm her elemental alchemy skills and she would have been fine. It wasn’t like Roy was out here creating new alchemy techniques left-and-right, or Ed for that matter. But this technique was something Grand had helped her work out, and she wanted that contribution credited to him. Which meant, first, getting it acknowledged as something worthwhile by the powers-that-be.

Something which took them all of five minutes to see. “This is very impressive work Major Frey,” Bradley nodded with a smile. “So impressive, in fact, that I think it deserves some recognition, don’t you, Lt. Colonel?” Elisa froze in shock, eyes darting across the review board. Grand had joked about the possibility but Elisa hadn’t taken him seriously. Promotions weren’t just easily handed out in the military, not when there were a finite amount of positions available. Most of her friends had been able to move up only because war had helped clear their way. And Elisa hadn’t heard of anyone retiring, which only left–

“–it was a rather unfortunate thing that happened to the Brigadier General,” Bradley continued, giving voice to Elisa’s greatest fear. “We lost a good man, and while he can never be replaced Amestris can’t afford to leave such a seat of power unclaimed. Several members of the brass have already received their own promotions, and with Henry Douglas accepting the rank of Colonel that left one position available.” Bradley nodded Elisa’s way. “It only felt right to offer it to Grand’s own protegé. Especially after this showing you’ve given us.”

Elisa gave a very precise bow and choked out her thanks, trying desperately to keep it together. She'd never wanted a promotion, but to get one because her friend had been killed? It was all she could do to keep her lunch down.

“Actually, while I have you here,” Bradley casually continued, “I wanted to find out how you’re doing.”

“...how I'm doing, sir?” Elisa couldn’t quite help the tone of confusion that coated her voice.

“Well, you’ve been through it, haven’t you? First a broken engagement, and now a dead CO? I just want to make sure you’re getting the help you need. If there’s anything I can do…”

Elisa nearly dismissed him out of hand, asking Bradley for any sort of help seemed all levels of crazy. But there actually was something Bradley was uniquely situated to help with. Something that Maes had insisted was necessary if they wanted to ensure his survival. “Actually, sir, the man who killed the Brigadier General, what are we doing about him?”

Bradely raised a brow in surprise. “The man is a traitor, I’ve ordered his immediate capture. I believe it is Lt. Colonel Hughes who has been heading up the task-force to help track the killer down.”

“And would it be possible to be reassigned to this task-force? I'm just, I saw him sir, I let him get away .” And Elisa didn’t even have to fake her frustration at this fact. One day she knew she’d forgive Scar, but that day was not today.

Thankfully, if there was one emotion Bradley understood, it was wrath. “I think I can make that happen, Lt. Colonel. I'll have new orders issued for you immediately. And, happy hunting.”

Elisa bowed in gratitude. She didn’t care about hunting Scar, wanted to stay far away from the man while he was still so set on vengeance, lest his anger feed her own. But this got her and Maes assigned to the same office, which was absolutely crucial for literally every one of Maes’ contingencies.

~:~

“I hear you’ll be joining me in Intelligence,” Maes smirked across the dinner table, “and that we now share a rank?”

Elisa gave her brother-in-law a pointed look. “I didn’t ask for the promotion.”

Maes’ smile faltered for a second, before returning full force as Gracia leaned down to give him a kiss. “I think it’s good you’ll be working together,” Gracia said as she placed down a newly baked apple pie. “That way you can watch each other's backs.”

Maes hummed in agreement. “Well, I can definitely use the help. Between the Lior riots breaking out, and the rumors that a certain scarred man has made his way down East, I'm already being run ragged!”

Elisa clenched the fork in her hand. While it was nice that their plan was off to a good start, and that the riots proved to Maes that she wasn’t just spouting shit, Elisa couldn’t shake the fear that she was deluding herself. That saving Maes was something way beyond her reach.

“Auntie ‘Sa?” A small voice called, snapping Elisa out of her doom spiral.

“Yes, little ‘cia?” Elisa replied, smiling down at her niece.

“Story?” The little girl asked, with a head tilt, bright green eyes staring into her soul. Elisa felt herself melting and nodded at the little girl.

“Of course, sweetie, after dinner. I left off when the trio snuck into the library, didn’t I?”

Elisa forced herself to focus on her niece, on this moment in time. Clinging to the advice Maes had given her after she’d finally finished dumping everything on him.

It’s okay to be afraid, to be terrified, some days the future is just too scary to think about. But on those days you need to stop looking forward, and just look around. Every moment can become a memory, and good memories have a way of making even the darkest future seem that little bit brighter.

Sept 5th, 1914

They say that when it rains, it pours, and never had Elisa felt this more keenly than her first day working on the “state-alchemist killer” case.

“Five days ago he took down old man Grand.” Elisa carefully didn’t react as Maes brought Roy and his team up to speed. She especially didn’t react to Roy’s sharp glance her way.

“The Brigadier General?” Roy murmured in shock, “but he’s an expert in weapons transmutations!” The silence that followed was telling, and heavy. It’s true that Scar had managed to kill several State Alchemists before Grand, but most State Alchemists were scientists, not fighters. (And Elisa had been less-than-impressed to learn Scar’s killing spree had been behind Maes’ pushing her to visit Riza). Grand, however, was known for his fighting style, it should have been unfeasible for him to be defeated.

Maes, of course, now knew it was due to Scar’s unique alchemical talents, and significant training as a warrior monk. Not that he could share that information, since Salim’s abilities made even the most secure of rooms compromised. Barring total darkness or extreme light, that is, neither of which were readily available midday in an office.

“Other than Tucker,” Maes continued, and Elisa’d had to stamp down the sense of relief she’d felt when Roy had let them know of Tucker’s murder. (Turns out jail cells weren’t much of a deterrent to someone like Scar.) “You’re the only State Alchemist of note in the area, right?”

Roy blanched, and Elisa and Maes shared a quick look of panic, both of them sharing the same thought.

“Roy says the Elric brothers tried to talk to Tucker in prison.”

“Hawkeye, with me.” Roy commanded, immediately rushing out into the rain, his men hot on his heels. Elisa hesitated for half a second before running after her friends, since she hadn’t been explicitly ordered to stay behind. Something Roy realized with a grimace only after they’d made it to the streets. “Frey,” his voice snapped out, tension in his eyes, “approach from the North but do not engage . If need be you are to create a wall of ice to coral this man our way. Do you understand? ”

Elisa nodded, eyes serious. She knew she was no match for Scar, knew she was probably going to be chewed out later for not just staying at base with Maes. But she’d just lost Grand to this man, she wasn’t going to sit back while Roy and Riza went to face him themselves.

~::~

The bullet cracked through the sky right as Elisa made it to her alleyway, panting from sprinting around the block. “That’s enough!” Roy’s voice echoed out from just beyond her hidden corner.

“...as an agent of god, I’m here to hand down his judgement.” Scar calmly remarked, while Elisa stared with dread at the terrified child at his feet. “If you interfere, I'll eliminate you as well.”

A chill went down Elisa’s back that had nothing to do with the rain soaking through her uniform.

“Oh? Is that right?” Roy called out with false bravado.

What followed was a rapid-fire exchange that reminded Elisa just how out of her depth she was. At least Roy had the excuse of the rain making him useless. Elisa was literally soaked in her element, and all she could do was watch, terrified, as Riza forced Scar back. Worse still, she was quickly realizing that she and Maes may have gravely miscalculated.

As Scar turned to Edward, arm rearing back, Elisa felt herself rushing forward. Felt herself force energy down her legs, and into the ground. Watched, almost as if outside her own body, as she slid along the floor, wrapping Edward in her arms, and pulling a wall of ice around them. As the ice wall shattered, sending shards that sliced across her arms and face, Elisa just knew that Roy was going to kill her. But she also knew, as she kicked Edward towards Roy, that he didn’t have all the facts.

Namely, the fact that Elisa had just realized–she hadn’t just been reassigned, she’d taken someone else’s assignment. Elisa had to act, because this time, there would be no Armstrong running to the rescue.

Not when the Major was still somewhere in Central.

“You,” Scar growled, eyes locked on Elisa, “you blasphemer” he growled.

“Me,” Elisa agreed, dropping to her knees to avoid his strike, calculations rushing through her brain. Elisa wasn’t a fighter, not like Scar and Armstrong. She’d been training, and her hand-to-hand was decent, but on a normal day she’d never be able to handle Scar. Thankfully, today wasn’t normal.

Today it was pouring.

And for all that Elisa wasn’t a fighter, she had spent the past several months training with the iron blood alchemist. If there was one thing he made sure Elisa knew, it was how to transmute a weapon. Something Scar realized as spikes of ice shot from the crystal cannon Elisa had just materialized. Elisa knew it was luck that this was working at all, as she’d told Riza before, her alchemy was typically too slow to be of much use in a fight. But being able to skip over drawing water from the air–because the rain made that moot–helped shave off enough time for Elisa to actually hold her own.

Alone she still would have died. Scar was adaptable and already he was realizing that she couldn’t quickly adjust the trajectory of her spikes. Elisa was certain that alone, he would have killed her. But Elisa was not alone.

“Damn, he’s too fast. That bullet just grazed him.”

She had the hawk’s eye watching out for her.

“This isn’t over,” Scar growled, red eyes clear through his cracked lenses. Elisa heard Roy gasp at the realization that the man they were facing was Ishvalan, but Elisa just kept her eyes locked with Scar’s as he made his retreat. After all, only a fool would look away from someone who glared at them with such hatred.

Part of Elisa understood, the second she used Alchemy, Scar surely thought she’d lied about her gifted-name. Name’s were sacred to Ishvalans, titles mattered . To be gifted a name as Elisa had, was something very special indeed. It’s why Elisa had stopped arguing that she wasn’t a prophet, you don’t get to choose what others call you. It’s also what made Elisa’s naming of Scar so cutting, in the eyes of Ishvala he would now always carry the title of murderer. For someone to lie about that?! Worse still, for an Amestrian soldier to lie about it? In Scar’s eyes, Elisa was clearly the greatest of blasphemers.

Nevermind that everything she’d told him had been nothing but the truth.

So wrapped up in her thoughts was she, that Elisa didn’t realize Roy had walked up to her until he was crouching down in front of her with a frown. “I could have you court-martialed for disobeying my orders.”

Elisa flinched, dropping her gaze to her arms, only to wince at the sight of the tiny cuts littering her skin. Part of her was aware of Alphonse tearing into Edward behind them, aware of Maes directing Roy’s soldiers to begin cleaning up. A smaller part was aware that she was shivering from the ice-rain-pain that was the last few minutes. But most of Elisa was focused on Roy, on the way he seemed ready to explode, an unknown emotion burning in his eyes.

“...he was going to hurt Edward.”

Roy’s hands clenched and Elisa knew that was the wrong thing to say, even as she knew Roy couldn’t argue against it. “You’re untested in combat.” Roy hissed, voice rough with barely concealed anger. “You had no reason to think you wouldn’t make things worse .”

Elisa shrugged, miserably. She knew Roy was right, knew that it was more luck than anything that had let her keep her head. If Elisa had stopped to think for a second she would have kept to the plan, used her alchemy to force Scar away from Ed and towards Riza. But the truth was, “...I wasn’t thinking.” Roy clenched his jaw and Elisa knew she was digging herself a bigger hole. But she was too tired to search for the right words, and Roy had never needed them before, not with her. “I was just–he looked scared , Roy.” ‘He looked like a frightened child’ echoed, unspoken, between them.

Roy stared at her, unblinking, for several seconds. Just long enough for Elisa to become very aware of the warmth radiating off of his body, and the flush slowly creeping up her neck. Eventually he must have read something in her expression, because he sighed, let the tension fade from his shoulders and pulled her into his arms.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Eli.” He whispered in her ear, and Elisa felt heat burst across her cheeks. “You made me a promise, remember? No dying.”

Elisa squirmed in his arms, only to have Roy tighten his grip. She then tried to chuckle and break the tension, “I mean, I kept it?” But Roy was clearly not in the mood, based on the resulting heavy silence.

“I have half of a mind to drag you home and lock you up until that man is captured.” He eventually sighed, releasing her. “But I dread what you’d come up with left alone like that.”

Elisa read the quip for the truce it was and let herself smile up at Roy. “Please, like you wouldn’t be right there with me!” It was meant to be a joke, the opening line to the type of banter they’d been throwing around for over a decade. Elisa had perfectly set Roy up to make some sort of disparaging remark. But instead, he changed the rules.

“Of course I would. Given the choice, I’d never leave your side.”

And broke her brain.

“Wait. What?”

“Eli, when have I ever willingly left you alone?”

Elisa blinked at Roy, face-flushed red, brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn’t what they did, wasn’t how they joked. For all that Roy played the womanizer, he wasn’t one to practice lines on his friends. Especially not following a near-death experience like that. So he was being sincere, but the words he was saying, how it was phrased…it sounded like, “...is this where you promise you’re not hitting on me?” Elisa joked, calling back to their first meeting. Roy was probably shaken up, like her he likely didn’t have the energy to choose his words with care.

“No.” Roy smirked and Elisa felt her mind wipe clean, static filling her ears. Roy reached over, slowly, and brushed some loose hair strands out of her face, “this is where I apologize in advance.”

“A-apologize?”

Roy’s smirk grew wider, and Elisa briefly wondered if it was possible to die if all your blood rushed to your face. “If you thought Maes was insufferable courting Gracia, then just wait until you get back.”

And there was so much wrong with that sentence that Elisa couldn’t even begin to–but, wait? “What do you mean ‘get back’?”

Roy nodded towards Edward, who Elisa realized was staring at them both with a gobsmacked expression. “I can’t lock you away. But I can get you out of any major cities. Fullmetal is going to need help getting to his mechanic, and since you were willing to break orders to help him. I figured you’ve already volunteered for the role.”

Elisa stared at a shocked Ed before darting her eyes to a smirking Roy. She knew the adult move would be to face him, to push past the confusion she was drowning in and demand they talk . But Elisa had always been a coward, and for all that she had grown better at confrontation, sometimes it was too much. In less than a week she’d seen her friend murdered, been in her first real fight, and had the man she, had Roy imply, had–it was too much. She needed space, she needed time, and she very consciously pushed down the thought that Roy knew her well enough to provide both.

The adult thing may have been to stay, but sometimes being an adult was overrated.

“Alright boys, you heard the Colonel. Looks like I'm escorting you both home.”

Notes:

Here we go, as promised, the next installment of this tale! And we've FINALLY made it to cannon!! Hope you all enjoy this chapter and that it was worth the wait, we'll see if having the original plot to draw from helps or hinders the release time for the next chapter, lol.

Notes:

Cross-posted on fanfiction.net

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vanetta on Chapter 1 Mon 29 May 2023 04:20PM UTC

The quality of this story is really high. I tend to be nitpicky, and I can say that not once did I notice a SPAG error that jarred me out of my sense of immersion.
I'm very invested in the story so far. I hope our main character does not get forced into the military. Unfortunately, they might forcefully conscript her once they learn how useful she can be.

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MossyStarling on Chapter 1 Tue 06 Jun 2023 11:58PM UTC

Oh I am fully in love with how you’re portraying these characters

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FlawedPenis on Chapter 1 Wed 05 Jul 2023 02:16AM UTC

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOSSH
WHERE HAVE I BEEN WHERE I HADNT COME ACROSS THIS BEFORE.
ITS TOO GOOD❤️❤️

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Jwhitefang on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Oct 2023 01:58PM UTC

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️

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TheWiseQueen on Chapter 1 Sun 05 Nov 2023 07:09AM UTC

Omg this is sooooooo amazing. I hope the blot bunnies come back and you end up finishing this it is so amazing and sweet and the angst. I need to know what will happen between everyone.

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HRHPrincessTricia on Chapter 1 Thu 29 Aug 2024 07:26AM UTC

Oh, Roy’s in love! Perfecto! Chef’s kiss!

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3littleEmoji (zeichnerinaga) on Chapter 1 Tue 22 Oct 2024 10:16PM UTC

😊❤️👍

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RandoMando47 on Chapter 1 Fri 14 Feb 2025 03:08AM UTC

Damn, this was a very strong start. MC is competent, independent, and sympathetic. Her family and in-law situation immediately make me root for them. Plus helping a young Hawkeye’s life be better is another good sign. I’m excited for this binge! TFTC!

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raginblastocyst on Chapter 1 Mon 10 Mar 2025 09:49PM UTC

Fucking love this so damn much

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Spade_Z on Chapter 1 Sat 05 Apr 2025 08:15PM UTC

Just a Spade casually dropping by
♠️💚

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peppertel on Chapter 1 Mon 21 Apr 2025 03:43PM UTC

oh my god PLEAAASEEEE i need more!!! 😭😭😭

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TheMagicDragon13 on Chapter 1 Fri 11 Jul 2025 10:05PM UTC

Sooooo cute! Love love love! Roy’s realizations - how smart she is and his growing feelings. So good!

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vanetta on Chapter 2 Mon 29 May 2023 04:41PM UTC

I am guessing the sickness is cholera, which spreads through unclean water. The refugee camp is probably not very sanitary, making it an ideal breeding ground for waterborne diseases.

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1. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:47AM UTC
  
  That would be a very well-informed and practical guess ;)
  
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Profimacher2 on Chapter 2 Tue 30 May 2023 02:10PM UTC

Hello,
I love your story. I was captured from the beginning and couldn't put it down.
The last few sentences... what a cliffhanger! At least, I hope it's a cliffhanger. I really, really hope it is. Please.
The only thing that gives me hope is the 2/5 chapters, so I really hope Elisa, your OC that I have really begun to love, will be okay.
I'm looking forward to the next (hopefully) chapter.
Byebye,
Profimacher2

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1. Bluish_crone on Chapter 2 Fri 30 Jun 2023 09:02AM UTC
  
  I don't know if you're already aware, but if not Chapter 3 is on www.fanfiction.net (link here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14211476/3/Fugazi ).
  
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2. 1. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:50AM UTC
    
    Thanks for letting them know! Takes a bit longer for me to get the chapters up over here cause of formatting issues.
    
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3. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:48AM UTC
  
  Thank you :)
  It's definitely a cliffhanger, no worries. I'm hoping this will be a 5 chapter Epic, but I wouldn't put it past my muse to make it even longer...
  
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SapphicCheri on Chapter 2 Sat 10 Jun 2023 12:05AM UTC

i desperately desperately hope that you update this again!!!! its so good so far!!!!!

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1. Bluish_crone on Chapter 2 Fri 30 Jun 2023 09:03AM UTC
  
  Same as for Profimacher2, link here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14211476/3/Fugazi .
  
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2. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:49AM UTC
  
  Thank you! Hope you enjoy the update!
  
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Jwhitefang on Chapter 2 Wed 04 Oct 2023 02:32PM UTC

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️

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sakurablossomgirl16 on Chapter 2 Thu 15 Aug 2024 06:13AM UTC

OmgI love this story and her being a genius

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raginblastocyst on Chapter 2 Tue 11 Mar 2025 12:06AM UTC

Holy fuck

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SapphicCheri on Chapter 3 Sat 01 Jul 2023 05:46AM UTC

YESSSSSSS FINALLY EMOTIONS BEING REALIZED!!!!! aaaa i very much wonder how theyre going to navigate communication since theyre now working under the "exes" facade! i definitely want them to kiss but even more than that i want them to be sooooooo uncomfortable and be put into awkward situations bc i think it would be funny. great chapter!!! im definitely looking forward to the next one!

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1. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 3 Mon 29 Jul 2024 07:15AM UTC
  
  Lol, thank you. They'll definitely have some "fun" navigating this new minefield.
  
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FlawedPenis on Chapter 3 Wed 05 Jul 2023 02:18AM UTC

PLEASE GIVE MY BOY ROY SOME RELIEF 😭😭
Just confess and get married already 😫❤️❤️

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1. Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 3 Mon 29 Jul 2024 07:14AM UTC
  
  XD
  Lol, that's definitely what all their friends are thinking.
  
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Work Header

Fugazi

Yuukinoyuki

Summary:

Notes:

Chapter 1: Pre-War

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Civil War

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: State Alchemist

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: It Begins

Notes:

Chapter Text

Notes:

Notes:

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vanetta on Chapter 1 Mon 29 May 2023 04:20PM UTC

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MossyStarling on Chapter 1 Tue 06 Jun 2023 11:58PM UTC

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FlawedPenis on Chapter 1 Wed 05 Jul 2023 02:16AM UTC

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Jwhitefang on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Oct 2023 01:58PM UTC

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TheWiseQueen on Chapter 1 Sun 05 Nov 2023 07:09AM UTC

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HRHPrincessTricia on Chapter 1 Thu 29 Aug 2024 07:26AM UTC

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3littleEmoji (zeichnerinaga) on Chapter 1 Tue 22 Oct 2024 10:16PM UTC

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RandoMando47 on Chapter 1 Fri 14 Feb 2025 03:08AM UTC

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raginblastocyst on Chapter 1 Mon 10 Mar 2025 09:49PM UTC

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Spade_Z on Chapter 1 Sat 05 Apr 2025 08:15PM UTC

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peppertel on Chapter 1 Mon 21 Apr 2025 03:43PM UTC

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TheMagicDragon13 on Chapter 1 Fri 11 Jul 2025 10:05PM UTC

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vanetta on Chapter 2 Mon 29 May 2023 04:41PM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:47AM UTC

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Profimacher2 on Chapter 2 Tue 30 May 2023 02:10PM UTC

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Bluish_crone on Chapter 2 Fri 30 Jun 2023 09:02AM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:50AM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:48AM UTC

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SapphicCheri on Chapter 2 Sat 10 Jun 2023 12:05AM UTC

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Bluish_crone on Chapter 2 Fri 30 Jun 2023 09:03AM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 2 Sat 01 Jul 2023 04:49AM UTC

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Jwhitefang on Chapter 2 Wed 04 Oct 2023 02:32PM UTC

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sakurablossomgirl16 on Chapter 2 Thu 15 Aug 2024 06:13AM UTC

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raginblastocyst on Chapter 2 Tue 11 Mar 2025 12:06AM UTC

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SapphicCheri on Chapter 3 Sat 01 Jul 2023 05:46AM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 3 Mon 29 Jul 2024 07:15AM UTC

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FlawedPenis on Chapter 3 Wed 05 Jul 2023 02:18AM UTC

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Yuukinoyuki on Chapter 3 Mon 29 Jul 2024 07:14AM UTC

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