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ArWen the Eternally Surprised
Author: Ria Time: 2007/11/22
Arwen encounters a strange monk and gains a little extra time.
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Shamballa - Part 3- The Philosopher's Stone
Submitter: Date: 2009/9/14 Views: 427
Making Plans
When Beregond and Maes arrived at the Hughes residence, everyone there was relieved to see that the Führer had kept his word. Ed and Al quickly rushed to Beregond to ask him what happened and what Fawcette wanted, but the Gondorian never had the chance to answer them. At that moment, Maes dragged him towards Gracia and Elysia so that Beregond could make their acquaintance. What’s more, Sarah and Alice were there as well, wishing to see Beregond too. Alice immediately rushed to give her friend a huge hug, and she hardly left his side throughout the afternoon.

As soon as the greetings and reunions were done, all the people that had gathered - including Winry, Armstrong and Havoc, of course - sat down in the living room and started talking in a relaxed manner.

“It fills my heart with joy to see everything’s turned out well,” Armstrong said, his sparkly aura as bright as always. “Will you take up again your duties as the Elrics’ escort now, Sergeant?”

“That’s the plan,” Beregond answered with a small smile before turning to Havoc. The lieutenant was sitting close to Sarah – very close, as Beregond observed. “Which means your babysitting days are over,” he told the lieutenant teasingly.

Havoc chuckled. “Well, they had to end eventually. I’ll see you guys off and then it’s back to East City for me.”

“Nope,” Maes intervened. “Roy’s got a new post here in Central, and everyone else from the unit is to follow him there.” He grinned, looking at Havoc with a very meaningful expression. “So you don’t have to go anywhere.”

Havoc just rubbed the back of his head embarrassedly.

“By the way, Ed,” Winry said, remembering herself, “I bought the tickets you wanted me to take.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Ed replied with a smile.

Gracia, who was sitting nearby with Elysia in her arms, looked at Ed with a raised eyebrow. “You’re in a rush. Why don’t you stay a little while longer? Give your body some more time to heal.”

Edward shook his head. “We can’t stay here forever. We’re leaving tomorrow.” He looked at Al and Beregond. “Is that okay with you two?”

“Sure,” both the suit of armour and the Gondorian answered.

“Where are you going this time?” Maes asked curiously.

“Dublith.”

“Which, incidentally, I have no idea where it is,” Beregond pointed out.

Al laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s in the middle of the southern area. It’s the next stop after Rush Valley, to be exact.”

“RUSH VALLEY?!”

It was Winry who screamed that, earning curious looks from everybody. “Yeah…” Al said, his tone showing his puzzlement at the teen girl’s reaction.

“What’s in Rush Valley?” Beregond asked.

“What’s in Rush Valley?!” Winry echoed, star-filled eyes widening and staring at Beregond incredulously. “It’s the holy land of automail technicians, that’s what’s there! I’ve always wanted to visit it at least once!” She turned to Ed, body fidgeting giddily and arms flailing excitedly. “I wanna go! I wanna go! I wanna go! I wanna go!”

“Go by yourself!” Ed said indignantly.

“Should I remind you who paid for the trip?” Winry retorted.

“Are you threatening me?!”

“Come on, Brother, don’t be like that,” Al said, trying to appease Ed.

“Besides, it’s on our way, isn’t it?” Beregond reasoned.

That made Ed huff. “Whatever…”

“Yay!” Winry instantly stood up, a broad smile on her lips. “I’m going to call Granny and tell her there’s been a change of plans!”

“Wait, Winry; I’ll show you where the phone is,” Gracia said. And after handing Elysia to her husband, she followed Winry out of the room.

“She’s pretty happy,” Al noted.

“Yeah, she’ll make a good wife,” Maes seconded, winking at Ed.

Ed’s face instantly reddened. “Don’t say that to me!” he cried at once.

“Okay, sorry,” Maes said condescendingly – before a teasing grin tugged his lips. “Besides, Gracia will always be the best wife!”

“And I don’t want to hear about your love life!” Ed exclaimed.

Hughes decided to comply this time.




“Sir?”

Brigadier General Connors stirred and opened one eye. One of his escorts had entered the compartment and rested his hand on Connors’ shoulder to shake him awake.

“Yes?” the Brigadier General asked gruffly.

“You ordered me to wake you up once we arrived in Central, Sir,” the lieutenant said.

“Ah, I see.” Connors sighed and rubbed the slumber off his eyes. “Dismissed.”

The private obeyed with a salute, leaving Connors alone with his thoughts. As for Connors, he got up and stretched, wincing at the popping sounds his back and neck made.

Those train seats were really uncomfortable.

He looked outside the window, seeing the crowd that flooded the station. He saw the huge clock that graced one of the walls of Central Station, and he was pleased to read the time there.

Five o’clock, he mused. He wasn’t even one second late.

Perfect.

What he didn’t expect was to see Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette on the platform, waiting for him.

That’s not right. He was supposed to stay with that impostor!

Swearing under his breath, Connors immediately picked up his things and walked out of the train, ready to scream his subordinate’s ears off. Fawcette, however, proved faster.

“I couldn’t keep him in custody any longer. The Führer himself wouldn’t have it.”

Connors stared at the lieutenant colonel incredulously. “On what grounds?”

“It’s a long story,” Fawcette answered in a wry manner. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Connors decided that that would probably be best, so he nodded and followed Fawcette in the automobile. It was while driving towards Central Headquarters that Fawcette told him of everything that had happened. He didn’t leave out anything, not even the mercenaries incident and, of course, the Führer’s gratitude.

Connors clenched his jaw and punched his leg in frustration. “That cunning little…” he said with a growl. “He took the opportunity to place himself in an even more favourable position. And I bet Mustang’s behind this as well. That lieutenant’s presence was too convenient.”

Fawcette didn’t say anything. It was clear that he agreed with his superior.

“No matter,” Connors finally declared. His fingers curled around a file possessively and a smirk formed on his lips. “After the Führer takes a look at this, the game will be over.” He turned to Fawcette. “Have you already informed the Führer of my arrival?”

Fawcette nodded. “He says he’ll see you as soon as you arrive. In fact, he’s asked me to take you to him right now.”

Connors nodded. “Good. The sooner we’re over this, the better.”

And with that, both soldiers grew silent.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Headquarters. While Fawcette parked, Connors entered the building so as to speak with the Führer.

Minutes later, he was in front of Bradley’s door, knocking at it briefly.

“Come in,” a voice sounded from within.

Connors didn’t have to be told twice, of course. He opened the door and walked in, saluting the Führer. “Sir.”

“Ah, Brigadier General. I was told of your arrival.” He turned to Douglas, who was at the moment pouring some tea in two cups. “You can go now, Colonel. You have other business to attend to, I believe.”

Douglas nodded her acknowledgement and walked out with a brief salute in Connors’ direction. Bradley didn’t speak for several moments, since he was occupied with signing one last report; but then he directed his gaze to Connors. “Well, Brigadier General, according to your subordinate, you had something important to show me. I believe it has to do with Sergeant Beregond?”

“Yes, Sir,” Connors answered. He placed the file on Bradley’s desk. “This is a document that I recovered from a small village on the East. This is the death certificate of a certain William Brice, who died thirteen years ago.” He pointed at the date on the file. “As you can see, Sergeant Beregond’s age matches perfectly with Brice’s, had the latter lived up to present day. And the age isn’t the only thing that matches. This is a picture of William Brice.”

Bradley took the picture Connors handed him and looked at it thoughtfully. His good eye locked again on the file.

“This man’s hometown is Resembool,” he noted.

Connors nodded and sipped some of his tea with a smile. Bradley’s shock seemed like a good sign. “Yes, Sir. Just like the Fullmetal Alchemist. As you are probably aware, it’s the very person Sergeant Beregond’s been assigned to as an assistant. And, if you remember, Colonel Mustang funds both of them, in spite of their dubious past.”

“Indeed.” Bradley looked at Connors. “Have you spoken to anyone else about this, Brigadier General?”

“Just you and Lieutenant Colonel Fawcette, Sir,” Connors answered. He took another sip of his tea, not paying attention to the almond flavour he tasted in it; he was too engrossed on the conversation.

Bradley nodded and stood up. “This is very interesting. I will have to look into this matter and see what my intelligence network can come up with. As for you, Brigadier General…”

Connors blinked, his eyesight seeming to fail him. That trip must have been more tiring than he thought at first. He looked at the Führer, confused.

The man was looking at him almost coldly.

What…

It was only then that he understood. He immediately stood up, trying to reach Bradley. But the man simply watched him contemptuously without so much as moving - for the arsenic had already taken effect.

Connors was dead before his body had even hit the floor as it collapsed.

“Thank you,” was all that Bradley said, a strange smile forming on his lips. Taking his time, he walked up to the phone and dialled a number.

“Hello? This is Führer Bradley speaking. Please send a doctor to my office. There has just been a terrible misfortune.”




Fawcette was in his office, pacing up and down as he still waited for Brigadier General Connors’ return. It had already been half an hour since his superior had gone to see the Führer, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Things weren’t that complicated as far as he was concerned, after all. The Brigadier General would show the file, the Führer would understand that he was deceived, and then Mustang and everyone else within that infuriating man’s unit would be court-martialled.

That kind of prospect made him smile in cruel satisfaction.

It was then that the door opened. However, it wasn’t Connors that came in, much to Fawcette’s surprise.

It was Colonel Douglas.

“Colonel,” Fawcette said, standing in attention and saluting. “Can I help you?”

“I have some new orders for you,” Douglas answered, an unreadable expression settled on her features. “Signed by the Führer himself.”

Fawcette raised an eyebrow and took the envelope that the woman presented to him. He tore the envelope open and then looked at the papers inside.

His eyes widened when he saw what the orders were.

“Transferred?” he asked, his voice faltering.

Douglas raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what the orders are, then yes.”

Fawcette stared at the woman, rage building inside him. “I was under the impression that Brigadier General Connors spoke to the Führer about a very important matter. This important matter hardly justifies this transfer.”

Douglas’ gaze hardened. “Are you questioning the Führer’s command?”

“At this point, yes. I want to speak with Brigadier General Connors, right now!” He grabbed his overcoat and opened the door, ready to walk out.

The last thing he saw was himself, his features contorted in a manic expression and a knife in his hand. He tried to scream, but suddenly water surrounded him and gagged him to silence.

Soon enough, Fawcette was on the ground, dead from suffocation.

“I could have handled him,” the other Fawcette said. His attention, curiously enough, was on the stains of water on the floor.

The stains moved and formed one entity – Sloth. And then she was back to her woman’s guise.

“The less evidence we leave behind, the better. Just play your part well and make sure everyone believes that Fawcette went North.”

“Fine,” Envy replied sighing. “Will you get rid of the body?”

She nodded. “Keep him in here. I’ll come for him once the place is deserted.”

“Locking the door it is then,” Envy said with a huff, his hands already searching Fawcette’s overcoat for the keys. Soon enough, the door was safely locked and he was walking along the corridor with the female homunculus. “You know, Sloth… You’re really bossy, considering you’re the youngest of us.”

“I know what our objective is and I stay true to that, that’s all.”

And with that, they continued walking in silence.




“Well, Edward Elric,” Armstrong said, opening the door of the third guestroom in his family’s house, “I hope this will serve you just fine.”

The boys could only stare at the size of the room. There was enough space to house ten full-grown men inside.

“Something tells me we’ll manage,” Ed answered, his eyes wide-open.

“Excellent,” Alex said, beaming. “Mirabel will have some breakfast ready for you at 8 o’clock. In the meantime, make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you, Major,” Al said, bowing slightly his head. “And sorry for the trouble we might have caused.”

“No trouble whatsoever. If there’s anything that my family enjoys is having guests around. The place is livelier!” Armstrong assured Al, a big smile clearly visible even underneath his moustache. “Well, I bid you goodnight. Make sure you get plenty of rest, Edward Elric. You have a long journey tomorrow!”

“Uh… Thanks. Goodnight, Major,” Ed said.

Armstrong’s smile broadened at this and, at the next moment, the burly man closed the door behind him, thus leaving the brothers alone.

Ed stifled a yawn. He lazily loosened his braid, letting his hair cascade down his back. “Finally, a bed that doesn’t smell of disinfectants,” he murmured. He dragged his suitcase and placed it on the bed with a soft thud.

“It certainly is a nice change,” Al noted. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the various colours on the tapestry as well as the paintings and pictures that hanged on the walls. “Do you think all the rooms are like that?” he asked.

“Probably,” Ed answered, ridding himself of his overcoat. “You can always look around and find out.”

Al shook his head. “I’d rather not. My armour is too noisy,” he said.

“That’s true,” Ed said thoughtfully. Once undressed, he pulled the sheets back so that he could settle on the bed. “Well, you might be able to have a peek before we leave. I’m sure the Major won’t mind.”

This time, Al answered with a small non-committal sound. And Ed knew by that alone that there was something bothering his little brother.

“What?”

Al sighed. “I was just thinking about Beregond.”

Ed blinked, rather taken aback by that statement. “What about Beregond?”

Al faced his brother. “You mean you didn’t notice?”

It was only then that Ed understood to what exactly Alphonse was referring. He brought his knees close to him and hugged them with both arms. “So it wasn’t just me. He was distracted.”

“Yeah. And the way he talked and joked… it wasn’t like him at all. It was as though his heart wasn’t into it.”

“And he kept wringing his hands,” Ed added. “The last time I saw that was when we were hunted by Scar.”

Al’s eyes dimmed slightly. “Do you think Fawcette had something to do with it?”

Ed rested his chin on his arms, frowning. “I honestly don’t know, Al. He has a lot of stuff in his mind right now, remember?”

“Yeah, I do,” Al answered in a saddened tone. “I just wondered if we could help him. I mean, it’s not just you and me in this now, Brother.”

Ed smiled tiredly. “I know. And I think he knows it too, so don’t worry. If there is anything wrong, he’ll tell us sooner or later.”

“I hope so, Brother,” Al said. “I really do.”

Little did they know that, in another guestroom at the end of the corridor, Beregond was already in bed, bathed in the darkness of the room. And yet the Gondorian couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He had become lost in thought and memory.

TBC...
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