Confrontations
Nobody spoke or moved. They didn’t so much as breathe as everyone kept staring at the trembling girl, waiting to see what she would do. Everyone, that is, except for Roy Mustang. He still had his back turned to Winry, even though he was by now aware that she aimed at him with Riza’s gun.
“Is what Ed said true?”
Her voice was faltering, interlaced with sobs that she desperately tried to control. Roy, however, remained silent, as though he didn’t acknowledge her.
“Is it true?” Winry insisted, almost screaming her question.
Ed bit his lower lip. “Winry…”
“No, Ed!” the girl cried. “I want an answer – his answer!”
The teen alchemist didn’t dare say anything else. He stepped back, and silence reigned once more. The minutes ticked by slowly, and it seemed that Roy would answer this time either. But then his voice flowed out of his lips, tired and sad.
“I once executed two people. Two doctors,” he said. “‘There are no sides; just patients.’ That’s what they said as they treated our fallen enemies in Ishbal. But the people they were healing would rise up again to fight us. The military asked them to stop, but they wouldn’t. And their makeshift hospital was becoming a den of insurgents. I got my orders in the morning… and I shot them that night.” His voice softened, yet his pain and regret was still audible, sending a chill to everyone’s heart. “After that, I tried to kill myself, but I was too much of a coward. So I took an oath instead: to never follow unreasonable commands again, to reach a position where I wouldn’t have to follow them; and I’ve stayed true to that. I’m not chasing them because I was commanded to. I’m doing it because, if I don’t catch them, the Führer’s men will.” He turned around and locked his eyes on Winry’s tearful ones. “I won’t blame you if you pull the trigger now. But I ask you that you don’t. For their sake.”
Winry’s fingers fidgeted violently, ready to pull the trigger. But they never did. Beregond approached her and gripped her hands in a gentle manner, his voice soothing as he spoke to her.
“Leithio han, Winry. ”
That was all the girl could take. In the next moment, she dropped on her knees, her hands abandoning the gun and dropping loosely at her sides in defeat. Sobs racked through her body, and Riza had to hold her close, trying somehow to comfort her; in the end, however, the woman had to guide Winry away from the scene. Beregond, on the other hand, simply handed the gun to Breda and walked up to Roy, expecting his orders.
“Just go to them, Sergeant,” Roy said softly, patting the man on the shoulder wearily. “I’ve kept my part of the bargain.”
Beregond nodded his understanding. Heaving a sigh, he approached the boys and smiled at them a bit.
“Hey,” he said. “We meet again.”
“Yeah,” Ed replied, but his tone was neutral.
If Beregond nodded that kind of hostility, he certainly didn’t show it. “Let’s go then,” he said, and he beckoned the boys to follow him.
Al complied at once, actually glad to see the Gondorian again; but Ed merely dragged his legs forward, a deep scowl on his features.
“So what’s going to happen now?” Al asked, wringing his hands nervously. “We were hoping that we would reach Resembool so that--”
“I know,” Beregond answered, patting the metal gauntlet in reassurance. “But nothing’s lost yet. The Colonel will see to it.”
Ed clenched his hands into fists at once at those words. “Really?” he asked, his tone icy-cold. “You just had enough of the children and you decided you should take advice from the adults?”
If Al were able to, he would have winced quite visibly. “Brother, you know he didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” Beregond said, effectively silencing the suit of armour before turning to the teen alchemist. “I’m on your side, Edward. I’ve always been. It’s to your current actions that I’m against.”
“Cut the crap!” Ed exclaimed angrily. “You probably figured you didn’t need a silly kid to tell you what to do anymore!”
“Ed!”
Al was too late. Beregond instantly froze in his tracks and stared at Ed agape, eyes widened tenfold in disbelief and shock.
“Is that what you think of me?”
Ed didn’t answer, nor did he have to. The defiant look reflected in his eyes said everything.
“I see,” the Gondorian breathed out.
With that, he walked away, hardly paying heed to the looks of disbelief that he earned from every soldier he passed by. Fuery reached out in the wild hope that he would stop the Gondorian from leaving, but Beregond simply continued walking until he was out of sight.
That, Ed supposed, would have been the end of that. However, Roy huffed and faced him with quite the angry glare.
“You can say anything about me if that will make you feel better, Fullmetal,” he said. “But Beregond--”
Roy never managed to finish his sentence, because Havoc suddenly lunged at Ed and punched him straight on the jaw. Such was his force, in fact, that the teen alchemist fell on the ground with a loud thud.
“YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!”
“Havoc!” Roy exclaimed.
“Brother!” Al instantly hurried at Ed’s side and helped him into a sitting position. “You okay?”
Ed nodded with a grunt. He could taste blood in his tongue, and he had to shake off the dizzy feeling he got with that hit. With hands tightening into fists and ready to reciprocate Havoc’s gesture in kind, Ed looked angrily at the second lieutenant.
His wrath vanished when he saw Havoc’s face. The easy-going, relaxed features were contorted in unadulterated rage, and the man didn’t even seem to register the fact that his bandaged hand started bleeding again as he kept clenching it into a fist.
“What--?” Ed started before could help it.
Havoc proved faster.
“You think it takes courage to do what you do? Running around Amestris to find a way to get your and your brother’s bodies back? You try being him! ” he shouted, pointing to the direction Beregond had left. “You try living, knowing that the game is forever lost to you! That your people are gone and you’re the last remnant of your race, trapped in a life that wasn’t meant to be yours in the first place! That no matter how well you master the language or how good an alchemist will become, you’ll still and always be nothing more than an outsider! That’s the way it’s for him!” He stopped to catch his breath, but he was far from done. “Did you know Beregond can will himself to die?”
Ed gasped, shocked. He looked at the others, scarcely believing what he heard, but everyone seemed just as aghast.
No one had known.
“That’s right,” Havoc said, his voice sounding hoarse after all his shouting. “He calls it a privilege of his people, so that he won’t be faced with old age… or any other burdens.” A chuckle flowed out of his lips, yet there was hardly any mirth in that sound. “Ironic, isn’t it? The only way he can escape from this world and find his people is to die, and yet he doesn’t do it.”
Ed swallowed hard, unable to do anything else but listen to Havoc’s side of the story. All this sounded too incredible; but, somehow, he knew the lieutenant was actually telling him the truth. And Ed didn’t know what to say.
“But… If he…? Why…?”
Havoc cut off the teen exasperatedly. “You don’t get it, do you? He stays for you.”
He didn’t say anything else; he simply turned on his heel and left, a look of disgust in his face. And, moments later, all the soldiers left as well, sparing only a brief look in Ed’s direction; they were aware that neither of the boys would attempt to leave after what happened.
Sure enough, Al stood up, his head bowed in shame and guilt.
“You have blood on your face, Brother,” he murmured in an apologetic tone. “I’d better go get some water so I can clean you.”
Ed just nodded, stubbornly averting his eyes. When Al’s metallic footsteps died away, however, the teen alchemist hugged his legs and curled to a ball, remorse eating away at his insides.
The silence that surrounded Riza, Winry and Scieszka was almost unbearable. Though both girls were free from their bonds now, they still remained on the same spot they had been placed, hardly moving. It was almost as if there was no more strength left in them.
That’s how Roy found them when he came to check on tem. Riza immediately stood up from her makeshift seat – a rock – and saluted, but Roy merely nodded absentmindedly. He walked slowly towards Winry and Scieszka, his footsteps sounding loud in the quietness of the early afternoon air, and he gently placed a plate of food before them.
Winry looked at the food for moments that felt like centuries; then lifted her gaze to meet Roy’s coal-black one. Her eyes reflected her anger, and her young features were contorted in resentment.
“So that makes it all better?” she asked, her tone bitter and icy. “I can never forgive you.”
Roy didn’t answer. With a mere shake of the head, he turned on his heel and walked away, sparing only a brief look in Riza’s direction. Winry watched the man go without another word. Still, she couldn’t get rid of the question that gnawed at her mind, making wonder.
“Why wouldn’t he say anything?” she finally asked softly.
Riza sighed, a sign that she knew the answer. Winry locked her eyes on the woman, waiting to hear what the lieutenant had to say.
“Despite what you may believe, Colonel has a sense of honour,” Riza said. “It doesn’t matter to him whether you forgive him or not; he already can’t forgive himself.”
And with that, she fell silent once more, leaving Winry be to her contemplating… and regret.
Ed walked along a small river, keeping his head bowed and his hands in his pockets. He remembered that river quite well; he used to play near its shores with Winry and Alphonse a long time ago. This time, however, Ed was alone. Winry needed time to overcome the shock she’d been through less than an hour ago, while Al left him with a single piece of advice:
“Go to him and apologise.”
Ed sighed. He knew Al was right, of course. He had let his anger overwhelm him, and now others paid the price. Still, Ed wasn’t sure how he should approach Beregond and apologise to him. The Gondorian would probably be too angry with him right now, and the teen alchemist couldn’t blame him if that were the case.
But, damn it, how was he supposed to know? Apparently, Beregond trusted Havoc in that matter more than he trusted Ed.
Then again, when was Ed around long enough for Beregond to confide in him? They were always on the move, each going their separate ways to fulfil their goals. Or, rather, to fulfil Ed’s goal. Beregond’s piece of heaven was lost, denied forever, and Ed was callous enough to forget that.
He had taken Beregond for granted; a mistake that Ed regretted whole-heartedly now.
He caught sight of Faenel, grazing on some grass, then saw the man himself. Beregond was resting his back against the trunk of a tree, gazing at the clear surface of the river. He seemed lost in thought, one hand placed on a bent leg and the other loose at his side. He certainly didn’t give the impression that he noticed Ed, even though the teen alchemist was standing a couple of feet away from him.
“Beregond?”
The Gondorian pricked up his ears, a sign that he heard Ed. He did nothing else, though. He simply remained where he was, still stubbornly looking ahead.
“You won’t even look at me?” Ed asked dejectedly.
This time, Beregond directed his gaze to the teen alchemist. But his expression was neutral, almost cold as he obviously expected another round of verbal whiplash. That hurt Ed more than he would ever care to admit, making him avert his gaze and clench his hands into fists. Even so, he managed to whisper that he had considered impossible to say.
“I’m sorry.”
Beregond didn’t stir for some time, and Ed felt the green-hazel eyes locked on him. But, finally, a sigh reached the boy’s ears and the Gondorian stood up. Ed looked up, afraid that Beregond intended to walk away.
Nothing was further from the truth. Beregond smiled, albeit wanly, and he even stepped closer to pat the teen alchemist affectionately on the head.
“Funny how I didn’t notice this before,” he mused softly. “You reach up to my chin now.”
Ed blinked and checked himself, only to realise that Beregond was right. The teen alchemist reached up to the man’s chest when they first met, and now they could look at each other in the eye without Ed having to strain his neck much… not that Ed would ever admit that he was short for a second time.
“Yeah,” he said with a small smile of his own, and he kicked an invisible stone. “It’s kinda funny… how time passes, I mean.”
“And how many surprises one can come across,” Beregond replied. “If anyone told me a year ago that I would end up in another world and witness with my own eyes wonders beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, I’d declare them mad.”
Ed smirked. “I’d probably say the same thing if anyone told me a year ago that a man from a different time and place would actually convince me to drink milk. Even…” he sobered at that, a sigh escaping his lips, “… Even offer me his friendship when I thought it was only my brother and I against this world.”
“Ed, you don’t have to do this,” Beregond said kindly.
“But I do! I--” The teen alchemist froze, registering what Beregond had just said. “You called me Ed.”
Beregond feigned surprise, although his smile broadened. “Did I?”
“Yeah,” Ed answered with a chuckle.
Beregond just settled with a small pat on the blond head. “Then I guess I did.”
That was all the reconciliation they needed.
Just like Beregond, Roy had preferred to seclude himself from the rest of the company, wishing to be left alone with his thoughts. So, now he was sitting on a tree stump, surrounded by the evergreen tress and taking in the calmness they offered. He hoped it would somehow clear his mind after the events of the day.
His peace didn’t last long, however. The sound of soft footsteps broke the silence and, moments later, Beregond appeared, a small smile on his lips.
“I figured I might find you here,” the Gondorian said.
“Somehow I didn’t doubt it,” Roy said, a wan smirk cracking his thoughtful visage. “What have you got to report?”
“I just wanted to tell you that the Fullmetal Alchemist has finally calmed down and now he’s in the company of his brother, resting,” Beregond replied. “The run was more taxing than he will ever care to admit,” he added in fondness.
“There’s a reason the military gave him that title,” Roy said. “And I take it you two made amends.”
“We have,” Beregond said, nodding. He regarded Roy closer, the question already visible in his eyes. “Winry?”
Roy simply shook his head. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for any other answer.
“She’s in pain,” Beregond commented in a soft tone. “It’s only natural.”
“She has every right to blame me,” Roy said.
“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. She will understand that as time passes. And Scar has already punished the real culprit, the one who gave the order in the first place. Grand, wasn’t it?”
Roy felt his eyes widening in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Hughes told me. A long time ago,” Beregond said. “And he also told me why you decided to stay in the military in spite of everything.”
Roy sighed. “I suppose you told the boys as well?”
“No.”
That was something Roy didn’t expect; it was probably obvious on his expression, too, because Beregond frowned a bit.
“It wasn’t in my place to say anything, because it wasn’t my secret. If you had wanted them to know, you would have told them yourself,” he said.
“I see,” Roy said, understanding. “I appreciate your discretion.”
“Any time, Sir,” Beregond said sincerely. “Although, I can’t help but wonder why you decided to keep them in the dark. Taking the position of Führer in order to restore democracy…”
“…is my goal, not theirs,” Roy cut in.
“Yet they’re part of your unit.”
“And I won’t have them any more involved than that. Or you for that matter, Sergeant.”
“You helped them in their quest anyway,” Beregond mused aloud, clearly confused; that is, until realisation caught up with him. He stared at Roy aghast. “But you won’t be helping them forever.”
Roy nodded. “As long as I pretend I’m the Führer’s lapdog, I can use my influence to keep them safe. But, if I face Bradley and something goes wrong…” his voice trailed off and he didn’t bother to finish his sentence.
“Everyone on the know will be hunted down,” Beregond completed, nodding his understanding. “And now I see why you placed me with the boys. You wanted to be sure someone would look after them in case you didn’t make it.”
“Do you think wrong of me?” Roy asked. Though he was smiling, he couldn’t hide the weariness from his voice.
Beregond shook his head.
“So I can count on you?”
“Always,” the Gondorian said, bowing courteously.
“Good,” Roy said, relieved. “Thank you.”
Although Beregond clearly appreciated the kind word, he was far from finished.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be better prepared for what is to come,” he declared, and he unsheathed his sword in the blink of an eye. “Care to try your luck with someone other than Bradley first?”
Roy blinked at first, stunned. But then, as the Gondorian’s offer made sense, he felt the beginning of a broad grin forming on his lips, and he pulled out his gloves to put them on.
“Be advised, Sergeant. I won’t go easy on you.”
Beregond smirked and place himself in a defensive position. “Neither will I.”
The sun was setting when Beregond found Alphonse again. The suit of armour was sitting cross-legged inside a tent, watching over Ed and lost in thought, so the Gondorian decided not to startle him. He made a small noise as if clearing his throat and then walked inside.
“Hey,” he said softly, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” Al answered, his tone just as low, “Ed is sleeping, so I don’t think--”
“It’s fine, let him rest,” Beregond said, waving his hand dismissively, and he sat next to Al. “Did Armstrong pass by here?”
Al nodded. “He said that we don’t have to worry. He ordered the Führer’s soldiers to go ahead and return to Central. We belong in the Colonel’s unit, so we’re under his jurisdiction; their presence is no longer needed.”
Beregond sighed, relieved. “Good. We need that breathing space.”
“So what are we going to do now?” Al asked, his eyes locking on Beregond.
“Head for Resembool,” Beregond answered, smiling a bit. “That’s where you wanted to go in the first place, right?”
Al’s eyes dimmed in sadness. “We have to.”
“I understand.” With that, Beregond turned on his heel and got ready to walk out.
“Beregond?”
The Gondorian stopped in his tracks. “Hmm?”
“Why are your clothes singed?”
The Gondorian couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Long story,” was all he said, patting the suit of armour on the shoulder and then heading out.
Little did he know that, several feet away, Riza was looking curiously at Roy’s torn sleeves and shirt.
TBC…
“Is what Ed said true?”
Her voice was faltering, interlaced with sobs that she desperately tried to control. Roy, however, remained silent, as though he didn’t acknowledge her.
“Is it true?” Winry insisted, almost screaming her question.
Ed bit his lower lip. “Winry…”
“No, Ed!” the girl cried. “I want an answer – his answer!”
The teen alchemist didn’t dare say anything else. He stepped back, and silence reigned once more. The minutes ticked by slowly, and it seemed that Roy would answer this time either. But then his voice flowed out of his lips, tired and sad.
“I once executed two people. Two doctors,” he said. “‘There are no sides; just patients.’ That’s what they said as they treated our fallen enemies in Ishbal. But the people they were healing would rise up again to fight us. The military asked them to stop, but they wouldn’t. And their makeshift hospital was becoming a den of insurgents. I got my orders in the morning… and I shot them that night.” His voice softened, yet his pain and regret was still audible, sending a chill to everyone’s heart. “After that, I tried to kill myself, but I was too much of a coward. So I took an oath instead: to never follow unreasonable commands again, to reach a position where I wouldn’t have to follow them; and I’ve stayed true to that. I’m not chasing them because I was commanded to. I’m doing it because, if I don’t catch them, the Führer’s men will.” He turned around and locked his eyes on Winry’s tearful ones. “I won’t blame you if you pull the trigger now. But I ask you that you don’t. For their sake.”
Winry’s fingers fidgeted violently, ready to pull the trigger. But they never did. Beregond approached her and gripped her hands in a gentle manner, his voice soothing as he spoke to her.
“Leithio han, Winry. ”
That was all the girl could take. In the next moment, she dropped on her knees, her hands abandoning the gun and dropping loosely at her sides in defeat. Sobs racked through her body, and Riza had to hold her close, trying somehow to comfort her; in the end, however, the woman had to guide Winry away from the scene. Beregond, on the other hand, simply handed the gun to Breda and walked up to Roy, expecting his orders.
“Just go to them, Sergeant,” Roy said softly, patting the man on the shoulder wearily. “I’ve kept my part of the bargain.”
Beregond nodded his understanding. Heaving a sigh, he approached the boys and smiled at them a bit.
“Hey,” he said. “We meet again.”
“Yeah,” Ed replied, but his tone was neutral.
If Beregond nodded that kind of hostility, he certainly didn’t show it. “Let’s go then,” he said, and he beckoned the boys to follow him.
Al complied at once, actually glad to see the Gondorian again; but Ed merely dragged his legs forward, a deep scowl on his features.
“So what’s going to happen now?” Al asked, wringing his hands nervously. “We were hoping that we would reach Resembool so that--”
“I know,” Beregond answered, patting the metal gauntlet in reassurance. “But nothing’s lost yet. The Colonel will see to it.”
Ed clenched his hands into fists at once at those words. “Really?” he asked, his tone icy-cold. “You just had enough of the children and you decided you should take advice from the adults?”
If Al were able to, he would have winced quite visibly. “Brother, you know he didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” Beregond said, effectively silencing the suit of armour before turning to the teen alchemist. “I’m on your side, Edward. I’ve always been. It’s to your current actions that I’m against.”
“Cut the crap!” Ed exclaimed angrily. “You probably figured you didn’t need a silly kid to tell you what to do anymore!”
“Ed!”
Al was too late. Beregond instantly froze in his tracks and stared at Ed agape, eyes widened tenfold in disbelief and shock.
“Is that what you think of me?”
Ed didn’t answer, nor did he have to. The defiant look reflected in his eyes said everything.
“I see,” the Gondorian breathed out.
With that, he walked away, hardly paying heed to the looks of disbelief that he earned from every soldier he passed by. Fuery reached out in the wild hope that he would stop the Gondorian from leaving, but Beregond simply continued walking until he was out of sight.
That, Ed supposed, would have been the end of that. However, Roy huffed and faced him with quite the angry glare.
“You can say anything about me if that will make you feel better, Fullmetal,” he said. “But Beregond--”
Roy never managed to finish his sentence, because Havoc suddenly lunged at Ed and punched him straight on the jaw. Such was his force, in fact, that the teen alchemist fell on the ground with a loud thud.
“YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!”
“Havoc!” Roy exclaimed.
“Brother!” Al instantly hurried at Ed’s side and helped him into a sitting position. “You okay?”
Ed nodded with a grunt. He could taste blood in his tongue, and he had to shake off the dizzy feeling he got with that hit. With hands tightening into fists and ready to reciprocate Havoc’s gesture in kind, Ed looked angrily at the second lieutenant.
His wrath vanished when he saw Havoc’s face. The easy-going, relaxed features were contorted in unadulterated rage, and the man didn’t even seem to register the fact that his bandaged hand started bleeding again as he kept clenching it into a fist.
“What--?” Ed started before could help it.
Havoc proved faster.
“You think it takes courage to do what you do? Running around Amestris to find a way to get your and your brother’s bodies back? You try being him! ” he shouted, pointing to the direction Beregond had left. “You try living, knowing that the game is forever lost to you! That your people are gone and you’re the last remnant of your race, trapped in a life that wasn’t meant to be yours in the first place! That no matter how well you master the language or how good an alchemist will become, you’ll still and always be nothing more than an outsider! That’s the way it’s for him!” He stopped to catch his breath, but he was far from done. “Did you know Beregond can will himself to die?”
Ed gasped, shocked. He looked at the others, scarcely believing what he heard, but everyone seemed just as aghast.
No one had known.
“That’s right,” Havoc said, his voice sounding hoarse after all his shouting. “He calls it a privilege of his people, so that he won’t be faced with old age… or any other burdens.” A chuckle flowed out of his lips, yet there was hardly any mirth in that sound. “Ironic, isn’t it? The only way he can escape from this world and find his people is to die, and yet he doesn’t do it.”
Ed swallowed hard, unable to do anything else but listen to Havoc’s side of the story. All this sounded too incredible; but, somehow, he knew the lieutenant was actually telling him the truth. And Ed didn’t know what to say.
“But… If he…? Why…?”
Havoc cut off the teen exasperatedly. “You don’t get it, do you? He stays for you.”
He didn’t say anything else; he simply turned on his heel and left, a look of disgust in his face. And, moments later, all the soldiers left as well, sparing only a brief look in Ed’s direction; they were aware that neither of the boys would attempt to leave after what happened.
Sure enough, Al stood up, his head bowed in shame and guilt.
“You have blood on your face, Brother,” he murmured in an apologetic tone. “I’d better go get some water so I can clean you.”
Ed just nodded, stubbornly averting his eyes. When Al’s metallic footsteps died away, however, the teen alchemist hugged his legs and curled to a ball, remorse eating away at his insides.
The silence that surrounded Riza, Winry and Scieszka was almost unbearable. Though both girls were free from their bonds now, they still remained on the same spot they had been placed, hardly moving. It was almost as if there was no more strength left in them.
That’s how Roy found them when he came to check on tem. Riza immediately stood up from her makeshift seat – a rock – and saluted, but Roy merely nodded absentmindedly. He walked slowly towards Winry and Scieszka, his footsteps sounding loud in the quietness of the early afternoon air, and he gently placed a plate of food before them.
Winry looked at the food for moments that felt like centuries; then lifted her gaze to meet Roy’s coal-black one. Her eyes reflected her anger, and her young features were contorted in resentment.
“So that makes it all better?” she asked, her tone bitter and icy. “I can never forgive you.”
Roy didn’t answer. With a mere shake of the head, he turned on his heel and walked away, sparing only a brief look in Riza’s direction. Winry watched the man go without another word. Still, she couldn’t get rid of the question that gnawed at her mind, making wonder.
“Why wouldn’t he say anything?” she finally asked softly.
Riza sighed, a sign that she knew the answer. Winry locked her eyes on the woman, waiting to hear what the lieutenant had to say.
“Despite what you may believe, Colonel has a sense of honour,” Riza said. “It doesn’t matter to him whether you forgive him or not; he already can’t forgive himself.”
And with that, she fell silent once more, leaving Winry be to her contemplating… and regret.
Ed walked along a small river, keeping his head bowed and his hands in his pockets. He remembered that river quite well; he used to play near its shores with Winry and Alphonse a long time ago. This time, however, Ed was alone. Winry needed time to overcome the shock she’d been through less than an hour ago, while Al left him with a single piece of advice:
“Go to him and apologise.”
Ed sighed. He knew Al was right, of course. He had let his anger overwhelm him, and now others paid the price. Still, Ed wasn’t sure how he should approach Beregond and apologise to him. The Gondorian would probably be too angry with him right now, and the teen alchemist couldn’t blame him if that were the case.
But, damn it, how was he supposed to know? Apparently, Beregond trusted Havoc in that matter more than he trusted Ed.
Then again, when was Ed around long enough for Beregond to confide in him? They were always on the move, each going their separate ways to fulfil their goals. Or, rather, to fulfil Ed’s goal. Beregond’s piece of heaven was lost, denied forever, and Ed was callous enough to forget that.
He had taken Beregond for granted; a mistake that Ed regretted whole-heartedly now.
He caught sight of Faenel, grazing on some grass, then saw the man himself. Beregond was resting his back against the trunk of a tree, gazing at the clear surface of the river. He seemed lost in thought, one hand placed on a bent leg and the other loose at his side. He certainly didn’t give the impression that he noticed Ed, even though the teen alchemist was standing a couple of feet away from him.
“Beregond?”
The Gondorian pricked up his ears, a sign that he heard Ed. He did nothing else, though. He simply remained where he was, still stubbornly looking ahead.
“You won’t even look at me?” Ed asked dejectedly.
This time, Beregond directed his gaze to the teen alchemist. But his expression was neutral, almost cold as he obviously expected another round of verbal whiplash. That hurt Ed more than he would ever care to admit, making him avert his gaze and clench his hands into fists. Even so, he managed to whisper that he had considered impossible to say.
“I’m sorry.”
Beregond didn’t stir for some time, and Ed felt the green-hazel eyes locked on him. But, finally, a sigh reached the boy’s ears and the Gondorian stood up. Ed looked up, afraid that Beregond intended to walk away.
Nothing was further from the truth. Beregond smiled, albeit wanly, and he even stepped closer to pat the teen alchemist affectionately on the head.
“Funny how I didn’t notice this before,” he mused softly. “You reach up to my chin now.”
Ed blinked and checked himself, only to realise that Beregond was right. The teen alchemist reached up to the man’s chest when they first met, and now they could look at each other in the eye without Ed having to strain his neck much… not that Ed would ever admit that he was short for a second time.
“Yeah,” he said with a small smile of his own, and he kicked an invisible stone. “It’s kinda funny… how time passes, I mean.”
“And how many surprises one can come across,” Beregond replied. “If anyone told me a year ago that I would end up in another world and witness with my own eyes wonders beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, I’d declare them mad.”
Ed smirked. “I’d probably say the same thing if anyone told me a year ago that a man from a different time and place would actually convince me to drink milk. Even…” he sobered at that, a sigh escaping his lips, “… Even offer me his friendship when I thought it was only my brother and I against this world.”
“Ed, you don’t have to do this,” Beregond said kindly.
“But I do! I--” The teen alchemist froze, registering what Beregond had just said. “You called me Ed.”
Beregond feigned surprise, although his smile broadened. “Did I?”
“Yeah,” Ed answered with a chuckle.
Beregond just settled with a small pat on the blond head. “Then I guess I did.”
That was all the reconciliation they needed.
Just like Beregond, Roy had preferred to seclude himself from the rest of the company, wishing to be left alone with his thoughts. So, now he was sitting on a tree stump, surrounded by the evergreen tress and taking in the calmness they offered. He hoped it would somehow clear his mind after the events of the day.
His peace didn’t last long, however. The sound of soft footsteps broke the silence and, moments later, Beregond appeared, a small smile on his lips.
“I figured I might find you here,” the Gondorian said.
“Somehow I didn’t doubt it,” Roy said, a wan smirk cracking his thoughtful visage. “What have you got to report?”
“I just wanted to tell you that the Fullmetal Alchemist has finally calmed down and now he’s in the company of his brother, resting,” Beregond replied. “The run was more taxing than he will ever care to admit,” he added in fondness.
“There’s a reason the military gave him that title,” Roy said. “And I take it you two made amends.”
“We have,” Beregond said, nodding. He regarded Roy closer, the question already visible in his eyes. “Winry?”
Roy simply shook his head. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for any other answer.
“She’s in pain,” Beregond commented in a soft tone. “It’s only natural.”
“She has every right to blame me,” Roy said.
“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. She will understand that as time passes. And Scar has already punished the real culprit, the one who gave the order in the first place. Grand, wasn’t it?”
Roy felt his eyes widening in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Hughes told me. A long time ago,” Beregond said. “And he also told me why you decided to stay in the military in spite of everything.”
Roy sighed. “I suppose you told the boys as well?”
“No.”
That was something Roy didn’t expect; it was probably obvious on his expression, too, because Beregond frowned a bit.
“It wasn’t in my place to say anything, because it wasn’t my secret. If you had wanted them to know, you would have told them yourself,” he said.
“I see,” Roy said, understanding. “I appreciate your discretion.”
“Any time, Sir,” Beregond said sincerely. “Although, I can’t help but wonder why you decided to keep them in the dark. Taking the position of Führer in order to restore democracy…”
“…is my goal, not theirs,” Roy cut in.
“Yet they’re part of your unit.”
“And I won’t have them any more involved than that. Or you for that matter, Sergeant.”
“You helped them in their quest anyway,” Beregond mused aloud, clearly confused; that is, until realisation caught up with him. He stared at Roy aghast. “But you won’t be helping them forever.”
Roy nodded. “As long as I pretend I’m the Führer’s lapdog, I can use my influence to keep them safe. But, if I face Bradley and something goes wrong…” his voice trailed off and he didn’t bother to finish his sentence.
“Everyone on the know will be hunted down,” Beregond completed, nodding his understanding. “And now I see why you placed me with the boys. You wanted to be sure someone would look after them in case you didn’t make it.”
“Do you think wrong of me?” Roy asked. Though he was smiling, he couldn’t hide the weariness from his voice.
Beregond shook his head.
“So I can count on you?”
“Always,” the Gondorian said, bowing courteously.
“Good,” Roy said, relieved. “Thank you.”
Although Beregond clearly appreciated the kind word, he was far from finished.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be better prepared for what is to come,” he declared, and he unsheathed his sword in the blink of an eye. “Care to try your luck with someone other than Bradley first?”
Roy blinked at first, stunned. But then, as the Gondorian’s offer made sense, he felt the beginning of a broad grin forming on his lips, and he pulled out his gloves to put them on.
“Be advised, Sergeant. I won’t go easy on you.”
Beregond smirked and place himself in a defensive position. “Neither will I.”
The sun was setting when Beregond found Alphonse again. The suit of armour was sitting cross-legged inside a tent, watching over Ed and lost in thought, so the Gondorian decided not to startle him. He made a small noise as if clearing his throat and then walked inside.
“Hey,” he said softly, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” Al answered, his tone just as low, “Ed is sleeping, so I don’t think--”
“It’s fine, let him rest,” Beregond said, waving his hand dismissively, and he sat next to Al. “Did Armstrong pass by here?”
Al nodded. “He said that we don’t have to worry. He ordered the Führer’s soldiers to go ahead and return to Central. We belong in the Colonel’s unit, so we’re under his jurisdiction; their presence is no longer needed.”
Beregond sighed, relieved. “Good. We need that breathing space.”
“So what are we going to do now?” Al asked, his eyes locking on Beregond.
“Head for Resembool,” Beregond answered, smiling a bit. “That’s where you wanted to go in the first place, right?”
Al’s eyes dimmed in sadness. “We have to.”
“I understand.” With that, Beregond turned on his heel and got ready to walk out.
“Beregond?”
The Gondorian stopped in his tracks. “Hmm?”
“Why are your clothes singed?”
The Gondorian couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Long story,” was all he said, patting the suit of armour on the shoulder and then heading out.
Little did he know that, several feet away, Riza was looking curiously at Roy’s torn sleeves and shirt.
TBC…
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