Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Boss, what are you wearing?"

Ed narrowed his eyes in what Havoc assumed was a spectacular scowl. "A mask."

"I can see that." It was hard not to see it. Havoc swirled the wine in his glass. "Where did you even get that thing?" The mask was hideous- it covered all of Ed's head except for his eyes, and was obviously designed with some sort of monstrous beast in mind. There were spikes cresting the top of it and two large tusks jutted from the exaggerated jawline. It was, naturally, painted in red and black. It was especially jarring when paired with the uniform Ed had been bullied into wearing for the evening.

"I made it!" Ed puffed himself up, clearly pleased with the reaction. "I'm not about to show up at a royal masquerade ball with something I bought at a shop."

Havoc declined to point out that everyone else in the squad had done exactly that.

The mission had been straightforward: The Tolen River, which started in Creta and snaked across the border to Amestris' western sector, had turned into a dumping ground by a group of alchemists experimenting with fertilizers. The problem had escalated to the point where the river was toxic enough to kill and Amestris had finally decided to help- by sending Mustang and his unit to deal with it. They had been given two weeks to get the problem solved.

Mustang's solution had been to spend the first day gathering intel and supplies, the second day spent scouting the area, and on the third day, unleashing Ed on the problem.

The Cretan alchemists clearly didn't know what hit them. Havoc almost felt bad for them.

Their assignment was overlapping with Creata's fall equinox festival and, as a reward, they had been invited to the capitol by the royal family. "It would be terrible for international relations if we refused," Mustang had said and so they had oh-so-begrudgely accepted the invitation. And just like that, their two-week work assignment had become a week and a half vacation.

It was probably the best vacation Havoc had ever been on, even if he had to deal with the fact that both Ed and Mustang were impossibly smug about the whole situation.

And now their impromptu holiday was winding down. Havoc was going to miss the food.

The party was their last night in Creta; they had tickets for the afternoon train back to the border. Ed, at least, seemed ready to go home. Alphonse hadn't been allowed to go with them and Ed had gotten his hands on a stack of books that he hadn't had a chance to dig into yet.

As nice as it all was, Havoc definitely felt like a fish out of water. There were a dozen different customs he was sure he was ignoring so he (and the rest of the squad) had politely made their way to the edges of the ballroom. Except for Mustang, who was, naturally, rubbing elbows with as many people as he could. No doubt he had every intention of capitalizing on their success back in Central.

Next to him, Ed was working his way through a plate of food. How he was eating without taking his mask off, Havoc couldn't figure out. Every once in a while, Havoc would catch people staring at them. He supposed it was the combination of them standing awkwardly off to the side and of Ed eating with enthusiasm that surpassed a normal fourteen year old. Havoc adjusted his own mask (a tasteful rendition of a stag) self-consciously. Only a few people had come over to talk to them, as the language barrier proved to be too much to make conversation worth it.

Ed had just finished off his third plate of food when Hawkeye arrived. She didn't say anything, opting instead to stand next to them in silence. Cretans, apparently, had a thing against chairs and hadn't provided any in the entire ballroom.

Havoc eyed her for a moment, then caved to his own curiosity. "You're leaving the Colonel alone?" he asked, gesturing with one hand to a knot of people. He could pick out the blue of Mustang's uniform in between gaps in the crowd.

Hawkeye folded her arms over her chest, giving Havoc a long look from behind her mask (hers was a sun and moon, embellished with tiny stars). "He's a grown man, Havoc. He can look after himself." A beat of silence passed. "…Breda's with him."

"Poor Breda," Ed said and Havoc failed to swallow his snort of laughter.

They passed another hour in comfortable silence and Ed finally surrendered after his fifth plate of food. Havoc was considering fumbling his way through Certan to ask someone how much longer it would be until the king and queen toasted and officially ended the party. Midnight had passed and Havoc really just wanted to sit down.

"So you're the visitors!"

The three of them glanced over at the voice. Next to them was a smaller, elderly woman, leaning lightly on a cane and peering at them from behind a gargoyle mask. Atop her head was a small, delicate crown.

"Uh-" Havoc started, scrambling to try to remember which member of the royal family he was talking to and what he was supposed to do. Kneel? Salute? Both? Falman would know, he was sure.

The woman continued, obviously unconcerned about their lack of bowing or groveling. "My daughter was so busy with preparations she never got around to introducing us." She waved a hand. "I am queen mother Amani. It's been years since we had any Amestrians this side of the border."

"It's an honor to meet you, your-"

"You three look bored out of your minds!" Amani cut right over Hawkeye's greeting, "come with me! I'll give you a tour. Everyone here has heard it all before, but you, you've never had the pleasure of seeing the palace!"

Havoc shared a look with Hawkeye, then with Ed. The kid shrugged and Havoc had to agree. There was nothing exciting happening in the ballroom and refusing the queen mother was probably on par with treason.

"We would be honored," Hawkeye replied, polite as ever.

The queen mother made another waving gesture. "Of course, of course, follow me!"

Escaping the ballroom was almost a relief. The doors swung shut behind them and the music and chatter were instantly muted. The hallway they found themselves in was empty of people. Gas lights were placed in between each door. Paintings and tapestries filled all available wall space.

The Queen mother immediately launched into a speech as she opened the first door to their left. It was a bedroom, decorated in greens. Apparently, it was a room used to house Aerugans who came for various diplomatic reasons. As was the next bedroom. And the one after that.

By the fifth room, Ed's eyes had glazed over and even Hawkeye looked like she wasn't paying all that much attention. They were getting family history now: As it turned out, a prince from some time ago had secretly wed his mistress in this very room! and then fled into the night. It was still considered to be very romantic, even if it had sparked a war of succession when the prince's son had come to claim the throne from his cousin thirty years later.

Ed lasted another ten rooms before he asked to be excused to find the restroom.

"Of course, dear!" The queen mother gave Ed a firm pat on the cheek. Ed's expression flattened in annoyance and Havoc desperately hoped the kid would keep a lid on his temper. "Come back and find us when you're done!"

Ed stomped out, bristling, but the queen mother hardly noticed the attitude.

"Come!" She swept out of the room, leading them down the rest of the hallway and around the corner. There was, unsurprisingly, another hallway. It was almost a carbon copy of the previous hallway, right down to the gas lamps.

"This entire wing of the palace is the oldest," the queen mother began before they had even fully rounded the corner, "It's built right over the catacombs and we still have problems with the floors. No support, they're always sagging in the middle!" And then they had arrived at another door and the tour went on.

He and Hawkeye were listening politely as the queen mother rambled on about the third drawing room on the hallway and how Prince Something or Other had had his portrait done by the esteemed artist So-and-So. Havoc was starting to wonder if Ed had lied about needing the bathroom. The kid was probably raiding the buffet table again.

"And we still remember him to this day! His bravery in the face of Drachma will never be forgotten!"

Havoc glanced over at Hawkeye who met his gaze and let out a sigh. It seemed the Armstrongs had doppelgangers across the border.

They were hurried out of the room, the queen mother still chattering about the bravery of her ancestors during the Drachman Incursion of 1796. Havoc was sure he was going to hear the woman's voice in his sleep.

BANG.

The gunshot was followed immediately by a howl- one Havoc had heard plenty of times back at the office.

"Edward!" Hawkeye shouted and took off down the hallway, further down the hall towards the area they hadn't toured yet. Havoc was hard on her heels. Training had taken over and he'd pulled his small pistol from its hiding spot in his boot before they'd even turned the corner. Technically, they weren't supposed to be armed and had surrendered all their weapons before coming in. But nobody could hide a weapon like Riza Hawkeye could, and no one in Mustang's unit was unarmed.

Hawkeye had her own weapon up and she paused only for a second to take in the hallway. There were no visible signs of a struggle. "Edward!" Hawkeye called again, opening the first door she got to, "Where are you?"

Chapter Text

There's too many doors, Havoc thought angrily as he followed her lead. Half of them didn't even lead to rooms- they were entries to hallways and balconies and closets. And they were all closed. They were going to waste so much time checking them all-!

The crackle of alchemy whined through the hall and a door was blown off its hinges about halfway down the hallway. Ed stumbled out, a bundle of something clutched to his chest.

Havoc bolted towards Ed, who looked up in surprise. "Lieutenant!" he shouted, raising his one free arm to gesture behind him, "He's after-!"

Another shot rang out and Ed lurched, going down to one knee. Hawkeye grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him backwards in time for the second bullet to go whizzing into the floor.

Havoc fired into the room, but his shots were blind and he couldn't be sure if he was doing anything other than making noise. "We need to go!" he called, backing up to cover Hawkeye as she practically dragged Ed out of the way.

Ed was trying his best to cooperate and walk as well as he could, but he was obviously in pain and disoriented. And he still had a death grip on the bundle of cloth. Hawkeye kicked open a door, several feet away from the attacker, and ducked in. It took half a minute before she gave the all clear and Havoc helped push Ed into the room. He kicked the door shut with his foot once they were inside.

It was a bedroom, one clearly not in use. The bed itself was well away from the door so they dumped Edward onto it.

Havoc went back to lock and barricade the door the best he could. He couldn't hear any more shots or sounds of pursuit; hopefully that meant the attacker had decided to lay low. Behind him, Hawkeye went to work on Ed.

"Edward, you're bleeding. How many times were you hit?"

"There's one in my automail, s'not a big deal, the other's just a graze."

From the corner of his eye, Havoc could see Hawkeye reach for Ed's shoulder and roll him over onto his back. "There's too much blood for just a graze, where- Who's child is this?"

The question was so unexpected that Havoc abandoned his task and crossed back over to the others. Hawkeye was staring down at Ed with that look she had when someone was holding out on her and she knew it. It was then that Havoc realized that the bundle of cloth Ed had been carrying was actually a small child. She couldn't have been older than four and was clinging to Ed's jacket with every ounce of tenacity she could muster.

Ed looked sheepish. "The king's."

Havoc and Hawkeye were silent for half a moment. "You- you kidnapped the princess?!" Havoc barely managed to keep himself from shouting.

"I didn't kidnap her!" Ed made to sit up, put pressure on his injured arm, and immediately dropped back onto the bed with a curse. "That guy was after her! I was already in the room when he came in and started firing!"

Hawkeye was rubbing the bridge of her nose, her mask discarded on the floor. "And how did you end up in the same room as the princess?"

"I got lost on the way back from the bathroom. She heard me wandering around and thought I was her guard."

"Where was her guard?" Hawkeye asked. Havoc could already see where this train of thought was going: the princess, left alone without her escort, completely unguarded at just the right time for an attacker to come after her. How convenient.

Ed gave a small shrug. The look in his eyes made it clear he was thinking along the same track. "You tell me."

Here they were, in another country, separated from the rest of their group, right in the middle of a possible assassination attempt. Havoc let out a heavy sigh. "…Why can't we ever just have normal vacations?"

"Sorry." Ed didn't sound sorry at all.

There still wasn't any noise in the hallway, which could have gone either way for them, Havoc mused as he went to work cleaning up Ed's arm. On the bright side, it could mean the killer had fled. On the other hand, it could have meant the killer had followed them and was waiting for them to leave. Mix in the fact that they didn't know their way around the palace to find help, they were essentially stuck.

Havoc's eyes darted over to the girl, who hadn't moved an inch, except to turn her head away when Havoc and torn off the sleeve of Ed's uniform coat to get at the wound. And it was a nasty wound, despite what Ed claimed. The bullet hadn't gone through, technically, but it was definitely more than a graze. A good-sized chunk of flesh was missing from Ed's left bicep. It needed stitches, but there were none to be had. The best Havoc could do was tear up one of the pillowcases for bandages, wrap the wound tightly, and wrangle it all in a messy sling to keep his arm tied in place against his chest.

The other bullet was lodged in Ed's automail, just above the elbow. Hawkeye managed to squeeze the truth out of him as she investigated the damage: Ed had had his back to the door when the attacker had entered and the only reason he hadn't taken the bullet in the gut was because he'd turned to shield the girl at the last second.

By the time Havoc was done, Ed had reluctantly pulled off his mask and shoved it to the side of the bed where Havoc had left his. The kid was sweating and starting to shake, but at least he was still conscious. Havoc eyed the bandages as Ed shifted on the bed. It was hard to tell how much blood Ed had lost- he'd smeared plenty all over the bedsheets, but so far nothing was leaking through the dressing. He would have liked to get Ed water to drink, but there was no attached bathroom and they'd have to go wander the halls and hope to find either a washroom or help. They had managed to corner themselves- the bedroom didn't even have windows.

Hawkeye had taken to investigating the room, digging through drawers and shelves, even rummaging under the bed. Her search was largely unsuccessful. She'd found a blanket in the chest at the foot of the bed, which she handed over to Ed. Surprisingly, Ed accepted it without a fuss.

Aside from that, Hawkeye's search had found a letter opener, a shirt thin enough to tear into more bandages, and a small matchbook. None of it was immediately helpful. They still needed to figure out how big the situation actually was. Were other members of the royal family targeted? Had there been an attack at the party? Had anyone at the party even noticed?

Havoc sighed and slid into the chair parked in the corner. It was almost one in the morning, according to Ed's pocket watch, which meant they'd been missing from the party for almost an hour. Maybe their absence wouldn't have been noted yet, but surely someone would have realized the princess was missing.

And speaking of the princess… Havoc glanced down at the bed. Princess Maribella, the only child of the king and queen, current heir to the throne of Creta. She hadn't said a word the whole time, and he had to wonder if she understood what was going on. Ed, apparently, knew enough Cretan to understand whatever she had said to him before the attack and she was satisfied with staying in Ed's protective grip. And it was undoubtedly protective- even after being shot, Ed had positioned himself to shield her from anything coming from the direction of the door.

Accidentally abducting the princess probably would have been their foremost problem, but Ed had been silent since wrapping himself up in the blanket Hawkeye had provided. He hadn't moved, either. Silent and still weren't traits Havoc associated with Ed and he had to wonder if shock was setting in. They couldn't dress his wound properly and couldn't even give him anything for the pain.

Ed was definitely not having a good time right then.

Hawkeye turned away from a shelf that she'd already searched three times before. "I'm going to wait ten more minutes," she said quietly, "then I'm going to go find the Colonel."

Alarm raised the hairs on Havoc's arms and he pushed himself out of the chair. "Hawkeye, we don't know what's out there, it could be a trap."

"We can't sit here, Havoc. We need to find the others and regroup."

"We shouldn't split up, either. The last thing we need is to start getting picked off."

Hawkeye frowned and Havoc could already see the order forming on her lips. "Lieutenant-"

"I can wait," Ed growled from the bed, butting his way into the conversation. He'd lifted his head enough to scowl at them. "Someone will come looking when they realize Maribella's missing."

"It may not be someone we want to find her."

Ed's glower deepened. "We don't know what's waiting out there! We could be walking right into a firing squad!" He shifted, clearly ready to argue some more, then froze. "What was that?"

Havoc frowned. "What was what?"

Hawkeye shook her head; she hadn't heard anything either.

"Sounded like scratching." Ed glanced around the room then craned his head to look at the wall the bed was pushed up against.

That, Havoc heard- like nails on a chalkboard, but muffled. It wasn't coming from their room, but the room next to them. Havoc felt his skin prickle. Something was happening, but he didn't know what, and that made it even worse.

A high-pitched shriek tore into the room and Ed heaved himself (and Maribella) off the bed at the same moment Hawkeye yelled "Down!" Havoc dropped to the floor without bothering to ask why.

Light flared in the room and the wall shattered inward. Alchemy, Havoc realized belatedly as plaster and wood sprayed over him. Someone had blasted the wall apart to get to them.

Ed had rolled to his knees, putting the princess behind him and freeing his one functional arm. He clapped, an awkward move with his left arm still bound up in the sling, and slapped his automail hand to the ground.

"This entire wing of the palace is the oldest," the queen mother's voice echoed in his head as Ed's counter transmutation lit up the room, "It's built right over the catacombs and we still have problems with the floors. No support, they're always sagging in the middle!"

He thinks the floor's on solid ground, Havoc realized with alarm. "Ed! Stop!" Except the transmutation was already going and Ed probably couldn't even hear him. A stone barrier rose from the ground, blocking their attacker. A literal lifesaver in most situations, but not here. Havoc could feel the floor under his fingers being pulled towards the barricade. "Ed!"

No luck. The barrier grew, and with one loud, final groan the floor gave out and down they went.

Chapter Text

The ground, Havoc discovered, was hard.

He pushed himself to his elbows, hissing as his muscles burned with the movement. He could still feel everything, which wasn't all that great considering everything hurt. With a grunt, Havoc got to his knees. It was dark, musty, and way too quiet.

Hopefully, they had landed in a basement and not the catacombs. Hopefully.

"Hawkeye?" he hissed, unwilling to raise his voice too much in case there was someone less than friendly around. "Ed?"

"I'm here." Hawkeye's voice came from a couple feet to his left. "Are you hurt?"

"Bruised for sure," Havoc replied, flexing his fingers. It didn't feel like he'd broken anything and in the dark, he couldn't easily check for blood. His wrist was killing him; probably sprained.

"Hold on." He could hear Hawkeye shuffling around. "I have those matches." The scratch of the match against the matchbook was overly loud in the silence and Havoc couldn't help but wince.

The match flared and Havoc found himself staring at a wall of bones.

Well. They were definitely in the catacombs.

Havoc squinted, his eyes struggling to adjust. Hawkeye was covered in dirt and a trickle of blood leaked from her nose. She wiped at with her free hand and examined her fingers silently. The circle of light didn't extend upward enough for him to see the state of the ceiling, but he was willing to bet the hole they'd fallen through had been filled with debris.

"Edward!" Hawkeye's gasp was sharp with alarm and Havoc turned as she hurried past him. The match went out, its fuel spent, but Havoc had been able to get a glimpse of Ed, laid out on his side with one leg twisted badly.

Havoc made his way over carefully, one hand out so he could feel his way in the darkness. His fingers brushed Hawkeye's jacket and he crouched down to her right. "Please tell me it's his automail leg."

"It's not." Her voice was tight and she struck another match. "We should try to set it while he's still out."

"With what? We don't have any wood sturdy enough to brace it." Havoc leaned over Ed's face, determined not to look at the kid's leg. He'd caught one glimpse of Ed's foot pointing the wrong way and frankly, that was enough. Ed was breathing and the makeshift sling was still in place, even if blood had started to leak through the bandages.

"Well, we do have…" Hawkeye trailed off and Havoc looked back over at her. She was staring purposefully at the wall.

"Have what…? Oh." Havoc's gut dropped as he took in the wall of bones, filled with plenty of femurs that would be just the perfect size for Ed's leg. "Oh, no." The second match went out.

"Havoc."

"Hawkeye, no." He was whining and he knew it, but really? She wanted to set the kid's leg with bones?

"I need two."

"That's just- it's-"

"Lieutenant!"

Havoc let out a gusty sigh. "Alright," he said, pushing up to his feet. "Don't bother with matches, I don't want to see this."

"Wait." Hawkeye was shuffling around, and Havoc felt her slip something slim into his open palm. "It's the letter opener," she explained before he could accidentally stab himself with it. "And get three bones. We need a torch."

Havoc moved blindly, toeing his way forward so he didn't accidentally step on Ed. The pathways in the catacombs were narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and he reached the wall without issue. He ran a hand over the bones, trying very hard to ignore the fact that they were actual human bones. The first one he touched had a crack in it, so he checked the next one up. No breaks that he could tell.

He began to chisel blindly, working the letter opener's blade into the mortar. Judging from how easily it came away, they were probably in an older part of the catacombs. It came free after a solid tug and he placed it to his left, close enough to reach but hopefully far enough away that he wouldn't step on it.

Behind him, he could hear the rustle of cloth and Hawkeye moved Ed onto his back. The kid didn't make a sound, still out cold.

A couple more minutes of chiseling and Havoc had three leg bones, ready for use. He shuffled back to Hawkeye, handing over the bones as he kneeled down next to Ed.

Hawkeye managed to wedge one of the bones upright into the dirt and, after several moments of fumbling with the matches, had the torch lit. She'd wrapped the spare shirt from the bedroom around the top of the bone for fuel. "There," Hawkeye muttered, sounding relieved, "now we have some light, at least."

Ed looked about as good as one would expect and Havoc cringed at the purple bruise forming on the kid's cheek. He'd probably hit something on the way down, which would definitely explain why he was unconscious.

"We'll need something to tie his leg with," Hawkeye said, grabbing the other two bones without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Havoc was already shrugging his way out of his jacket. The wool fabric of their coats was too stiff to be effective, but his undershirt would work just fine. Hawkeye took it with a quiet "thank you" and went to work on it with the letter opener.

He turned as he pulled his jacket back over his shoulders and found himself staring into another set of eyes.

Havoc screeched in alarm; behind him, he heard Hawkeye drop the letter opener and the safety of her pistol click off. A tense moment passed and then Havoc's eyes finally adjusted.

It was Maribella. The girl was on the very edge of the circle of light, making her hard to see. She was curled up, arms around her knees, and crying silently. She was covered in dirt and cobwebs, her clothes torn. She was probably scared out of her mind.

The two soldiers sighed in relief and Hawkeye slipped the gun away. Havoc held out a hand uncertainly. His experience with small kids was limited to family reunions and occasionally Elysia when Mustang got duped into babysitting for Hughes during the workday. He certainly didn't know what to do with a small child who was royalty and didn't speak his language. "Hey, you want to come over here? Sit with us?" He felt like an idiot.

Maribella eyed him, then scooted into the circle of light. She was still keeping her distance, but at least she wasn't lurking in the shadows, waiting to give them a heart attack.

Hawkeye tapped his arm, pulling his attention from the girl and back to the fact that Ed's leg still needed to be set. "I'm ready, let's get this done."

Ed announced his return to the waking world with a loud and emphatic "FUCK!" Havoc was glad they'd had the foresight to hold the kid's automail arm down before they started, otherwise someone would have been sporting a fantastic black eye.

"Ed! Hey, look at me!" Havoc tried to get Ed's attention, to keep it on him and not the pain in his leg as Hawkeye forced his bones back into line. He wasn't even sure if Ed knew what was happening. Ed's jaw clenched and Havoc wondered if the kid was going to be sick. But he swallowed it down and let out another curse, eyes wide with pain, as Hawkeye tugged on the bindings.

"Almost done," she said, wrapping the last strip of cloth around Ed's ankle.

Ed was shaking again and Havoc squeezed his shoulder. "Boss, you with me?" He got a groan in response.

Hawkeye stepped back, and Havoc took a chance to look back at Ed's leg. The kid's foot was (thankfully) facing the right way again, wrapped up in Havoc's black shirt and bones. It was gruesome, but at least it worked. And it would hold until they could get to a hospital to have it properly cleaned up.

They let Ed calm down at his own speed, only stopping him when he tried to roll over onto his bad leg. Ed finally cracked open his eyes, looking between Havoc and Hawkeye.

"You with us, kid?" Havoc asked.

"Ugh," Ed replied eloquently, rubbing his eyes. With a grunt, he pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring their commands to be careful and not push himself too hard. He frowned, taking in his leg, the torch, and the walls around them. "Are you okay?" he asked, glancing up to look at them. "And where's Maribella?"

At her name, the princess scrambled to her feet and charged over to Edward. She wrapped her fingers around Ed's automail arm and buried her face in his shoulder. Ed winced but didn't attempt to dislodge her.

"We're fine," Havoc replied. "You've gotten the short end of the stick tonight."

"How'd we get down here?"

"You blew the floor out," Hawkeye explained, voice flat and largely unimpressed. "Your transmutation weakened the foundation too much."

Ed looked petulant. "I didn't know the floor wasn't on solid ground." He looked around, grimacing as he took in the true extent of the catacombs. "Guess we're stuck," he added, squinting up into the darkness to the ceiling.

"The catacombs go all over the city," Hawkeye said as she straightened up. "I don't think we should wait in case the roof collapses on us. If we start walking we're bound to hit an exit eventually."

Walking turned out to be quite an affair. Ed couldn't walk on his own and there was no way Maribella was going to have the stamina to wander around for however long it took them to get out. And someone would have to carry the torch so they could actually see their hands in front of their faces.

It became apparent immediately that Havoc was too tall to function as Ed's crutch. Hawkeye helped him sling his right arm over her shoulders and get his one good foot under him. They took a couple steps to get the rhythm down. It wasn't a fast gait and Ed looked ready to keel over, but it was the best they could do. It was definitely better than having the kid waste energy transmuting his own crutch and having to hobble around without any help.

Getting Maribella to let Havoc pick her up was a struggle. She was determined to have Ed carry her, but with his one functional arm wrapped around Hawkeye's shoulders, he just couldn't do it. Letting her ride on Ed's back didn't work either since he couldn't hold her.

With great reluctance, the girl allowed Havoc to pick her up. She looked decidedly put out about it and kept looking over his shoulder to stare at Ed.

Havoc grabbed the torch with his free hand, trying very hard to not think about the fact that it was some poor shmuck's leg. "Which way?" he asked. There were two paths branching off from where they'd landed and there were no indications for where they needed to go.

"Left," Hawkeye said, after a pause.

It was a good a guess as any, so left they went, hobbling into the darkness.

Chapter Text

It was slow going. They were all worn out, Ed was limping around with a gunshot wound and a broken leg, and everything looked the same.

They could have been going in circles and none of them would have been able to tell.

Havoc sighed as they turned right down another passageway. He had absolutely no sense of direction. The bones followed a definite pattern- leg and arm bones on the bottom layer, then skulls, then ribs and fingers, then back to legs and arms, and so on until it reached the ceiling. Corners and pillars were decorated with spines. The ceiling was too high to see easily, but Havoc was willing to bet that it was covered with bones too.

His shoulder was starting to throb; he'd definitely hit it on something on the way down. It hadn't really noticed until now, forced to hold up the torch for… however long they had been wandering.

It had probably only been half an hour, but it felt like days. Regardless, it was well past one in the morning and he was running on fumes.

It couldn't be that much further, could it? With their luck, it probably could.

The worst part of it was that nothing was marked. No helpful arrows pointing to the surface, no dates on the walls to help them figure out if they were headed into the newer parts of the catacombs.

It was just the same. Pattern. Over. And. Over.

And aside from their breathing and footsteps, it was completely and utterly silent.

Part of Havoc wondered if they had all died in the cave-in and this was some horrible, twisted hell they'd all ended up in.

Havoc really hoped that wasn't the case.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Hawkeye asked at one point.

Ed grunted. "I've been better," he replied after a pause. "Been worse, too."

Hawkeye's impatient sigh told them all they needed to know about what she thought about Ed's poor attempt at humor. They continued on in silence.

Another right, then left, and left again. Nothing. Havoc followed the path around a curve and-

Dead end.

Ed swore. Havoc was inclined to agree at this point.

Hawkeye let out a sigh, sounded more defeated than he was comfortable with. "Break," she said and none of them argued. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but she was sporting a growing bruise, painting a streak of purple and black down her face.

The dead end was at least different. There was a stone sarcophagus in an alcove along the back wall, and the bones that covered the walls had been arranged more… artistically. Instead of the same layers they had seen before, these were placed swirls and circles; there was an arrangement of finger bones that had been designed to look like the sun.

Havoc didn't need to read the inscription on the lid of the sarcophagus to know that someone important (and probably very rich) had been buried here.

In the end, the Probably Rich and Famous Person ended up as a makeshift chair. Hawkeye helped maneuver Ed onto the coffin, both of them sighing in relief when he slouched back against the wall.

"Edward, you're… very heavy," Hawkeye said, twisting to pop her back.

Ed gave a weak grin. "I get that a lot," he replied, completely unconcerned that his head was leaning up against a set of ribs.

The alcove had a metal bracket jutting from the wall and Havoc took the chance to stick the torch in it. He deposited Maribella onto the sarcophagus as well, letting her scooch over to sit next to Ed.

And Ed wasn't doing that much better. His shirt was soaked with sweat (Where was his jacket? Had they lost it back in the cave in?) and he was looking flushed, despite the cool temperature in the underground.

Havoc's eyes trailed to the bandages wrapped around Ed's arm. Blood was still leaking through and several of the bindings had torn during their walk. "We need to change your bandages."

"With what?" Hawkeye wiped at her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. "We don't have any cloth thin enough to wrap with."

Ed shifted in his spot. "I can transmute someone's coat."

Hawkeye and Havoc exchanged uncertain glances. "You sure, boss?" Havoc frowned. "You don't look like you're up to it." The last thing they needed was for Ed to go and knock himself out from over taxing himself.

"It's not hard, I just have to thin out the fibers."

He sounded confident enough, so Hawkeye handed over her coat. Soon enough, Ed had a pile of bandages next to him. True to his word, he didn't look any more worn afterwards. Maribella's eyes had been wide, locked on Ed's transmutation the entire time.

Hawkeye pulled out the letter opener again and she and she began to cut away at the bindings. They were messy and definitely needed a change. And the wound…

"This needs stitches." It had needed stiches back in the room, but it wasn't clotting well at all. Havoc looked up from his examination of the gash to stare Ed in the eyes. "Can you transmute a needle and thread?"

Ed had started shaking his head before he even finished the sentence. "Not gonna happen."

"Ed-"

"It's fine!" Ed yanked his arm out of Havoc's grasp and hissed in pain. "I don't need stitches, I can wait."

"They're just going to give you stiches at the hospital, you know."

"Who said anything about a hospital?"

"Your leg's broken!"

Ed gave him a blank look. "What does my leg have to do with my arm?"

Havoc was starting to understand why Mustang always got so worked up every time he had a meeting with Ed. He couldn't tell if Ed legitimately couldn't connect the dots or was just playing dumb on purpose.

He could chew Ed's ear off all night if he wanted, but if the kid wasn't going to transmute a needle, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

The transmuted bandages would hold them over, at least. Havoc did his best to pad up the wound itself, tying the makeshift dressing tightly in place. Ed took it silently, but Havoc could see him scratching angrily at the lid of the sarcophagus with his automail finger.

Havoc began to tie up Ed's arm in a sling, keeping the kid's palm flat against his chest. Ed grunted in annoyance. "Can we not do this again? I'd like to have two usable arms."

"Well unless you want to get stitches, this is how it's going to be."

Ed scowled and looked away but didn't press the issue.

Havoc was wrapping the last strip of cloth around Ed's torso when a clatter echoed through the tunnels behind. The four of them froze, eyes darting up to the darkness outside their flickering circle of light.

Hawkeye had pulled her gun out of its hiding spot and was quietly checking the chamber. "How many bullets do you have left, Lieutenant?" she asked, voice low.

"Not many," he replied, mind flashing back to the firefight he'd had with Maribella's attacker. He'd practically unloaded the clip and there hadn't been enough space on his person to hide any spares.

Ed half-slid off the sarcophagus. "It might not be a person," he said, sounding incredibly unconvinced. "Could just be strain from the cave in."

As if on cue, something snapped in the darkness and Havoc distinctly heard someone curse.

They were being followed.

Chapter Text

The princess was missing.

Half his subordinates were missing.

And there was a giant sinkhole in the eastern wing of the palace.

If he was honest with himself, Mustang was surprised it had taken this long for things to go south.

He'd been in the middle of a very long monologue by a baron in the ballroom when the Dowager had come rushing in, screaming of shots and blood in the hallway. Mustang hadn't been too concerned. Several of the palace staff had gone to the Dowager, leading her out of the room, presumably to her own private chambers. The men he'd been speaking with hadn't batted an eye; one remarked that this was something of a common occurrence in the Dowager's advancing age. They'd continued on their conversation (as one-sided as it was)- until the ground had shook. Once, enough to rattle the chandeliers, then a second time, strong enough to knock several less-than-sober partygoers off their feet. Then he'd taken the time really look at the crowd and realized some of his men were missing and one of them was Fullmetal.

And. Well. Conclusions were drawn.

Conclusions that were apparently correct. There was a definite reek of alchemy on the breeze, sharp enough to make his skin prickle and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Even standing across the street, Mustang's fingertips itched with the leftover static in the air.

Mustang eyed the wreckage. Seven bedrooms and half the hallway of the eastern wing were gone, collapsed into the catacombs beneath the palace. The princess's personal guard had been found dead, obviously ambushed, and stuffed under a bed on the other side of the palace. A fire was smoldering through the wreckage, courtesy of the excess of decorative candles and the excess of old, wooden furniture. And the Dowager distinctly remembered the Amestrian soldiers wandering the east wing just minutes before the shots had started.

The security guards had spent a good thirty minutes herding people to safety and taking attendance. Mustang had spent the time very patiently waiting for the rest of his squad to regroup. Breda had already been with him when the shit hit the fan; Falman had found him almost immediately and Fuery not long after that. Havoc, Hawkeye, and Fullmetal were nowhere to be seen.

The official missing list had consisted of one princess Maribella, three Amestrian soldiers, and two minor nobles from the north. The nobles had later been found in the garden, locked in a storage shed and so drunk they hadn't noticed the miniature earthquake or the emergency sirens.

Breda glanced over at him, looking completely unimpressed with the situation. "We're getting arrested, aren't we?"

Mustang sighed. Technically they would be detained, not arrested, but they would most likely be detained in a jail cell. "Probably."

So much for improving their diplomatic ties.

A figure detached itself from the mob of Cretan officials and made it way over to Mustang and his remaining men. Mustang straightened, attempting to make himself as presentable as possible. The Cretans really didn't need to know that his brain was running at a hundred miles an hour and it all centered around one question:

Where was every one?

Havoc would take his time even if the world was collapsing down around his ears and Ed would loiter just to prove a point, but Hawkeye would have met up with him immediately. She had yet to show, which led to the disturbing conclusion that she couldn't.

Which… was not reassuring. Mustang didn't want to delve too deep into the possible reasons as to why she couldn't meet back up with him.

The only real reassurance he had was that the three of them had been seen leaving together. If they were able to stay together and watch each other's backs, then chances were good. But if they'd been separated, then the situation got even worse.

Falman folded his arms over his chest as the Cretan arrived. The man was barely taller than Fuery but still managed to take up entirely too much space. He wore the country's standard deep green police uniform, coated in a fine layer of dust. "You're Mustang?" He spoke in Amestrian, with a little too much emphasis on the vowels and his words muffled by his sizable grey beard. They were, at least, saved from the embarrassment of stumbling through Cretan.

"I am," Mustang replied, keeping his voice flat.

The man grunted. "Then this is yours?" He thrust his hand forward and Mustang took the offered item on reflex.

It was a pocket watch. Specifically, the silver pocket watch of a state alchemist. The front covering was crushed, with a square-shaped dent in the middle, as if something heavy had landed square in the middle. "This isn't mine," he said, the weight of his own watch heavy in his pocket.

But it was Ed's.

This was bad.

The Cretan gave a weak shrug, apparently not all that concerned with who exactly the watch actually belonged to. "We found it in the rooms," he said, pointing towards the building, which was still smoking from the weakening fire.

Any hope Mustang had of his unit not being involved in the fiasco was thoroughly smashed. Ed was more like to eat his watch than willingly leave it behind somewhere. He could safely assume that Havoc was with Ed- the two of them had spent the entire night loitering in the corner. The two of them working together was reassuring. That just left Hawkeye. Mustang had seen her speaking to Havoc before they'd disappeared, and he could only hope that she was still with them. If the Dowager's panic from earlier had been accurate, then the three of them had left the ballroom and headed into the eastern wing. Why, though, he had no idea. The party hadn't been that boring.

The officer left, stalking back to the cluster of police officers that he'd been conferring with before. Mustang watched him silently, weighing his options. He could wait, see what the Cretans could come up with on their own. Or… He gestured sharply to his men and turned sharply on his heel, away from the wreckage.

"Sir?" Fuery asked, hurrying to keep up with Mustang's determined stride, "Where are we going?"

"We're going after them." His voice was firm, with no room for argument. He doubted any of them would object- the Cretans would prioritize finding the princess and the Amestrian soldiers would be left in the lurch. Best case scenario, they'd become an unfortunate casualty that would be largely ignored by Creta and eventually forgotten by Amestris. Worst case, the situation would become a powder keg, an excuse for another war. Frankly, Mustang wasn't about to accept either of those options. Not when he could do something about it.

The catacombs predated the city and were part of almost every legend, myth, and story in Creta. Mustang himself had been subjected to at least a dozen different anecdotes about the vaults throughout the night. The network predated Creta itself, first established when the early churches had been built. It was full of hidden entrances, trapdoors, mazes, and sealed passageways. People went missing inside the catacombs by the dozens every year. Rescues were never even attempted- there was no way to map the tunnels and so nobody bothered.

But Roy Mustang was not one to be stymied by other people's failures.

Each church in the city had its own entrance to the catacombs for their own burial use, but technically, there were entrances to the catacombs all over the city. Whether or not these were legal and "official" openings was another thing entirely.

Luckily, there was a church close enough to the palace. It was, in theory, the closest entrance to where his men had gone down. It would be their best chance to run into them and get them out.

The church's doors were wide open with all the chaos from the palace. Nobles had filled the building, reuniting with their parties, yelling for food or drink or somewhere to sit. Mustang's group entered unimpeded, though several suspicious looks were thrown their way. Word had undoubtedly spread through all the gossip circles.

Nobody stopped them. For that, Mustang was grateful. He didn't think anyone would care enough to stop them from going below but not having to stop and waste time explaining everything was a small blessing.

The entrance wasn't difficult to find, either. The archway was decorated with carvings of what Mustang assumed were supposed to be angels, but time had worn the details away, leaving them as vaguely threatening, faceless beings.

"Here."

Mustang almost dropped the lantern Breda thrust at him. It was old, obviously unused, but it had enough oil to last long enough for them to get in and get out with the rest of the team. "Did you steal this?" he asked, stepping through the archway so they were out of sight of the rest of the church.

Breda shrugged. "It's not stealing if we bring it back."

"Yes it is."

Breda gave Falman a flat look. "We're borrowing it. When we find the others, I'll put it back."

Falman looked ready to object but Mustang had already pulled his gloves on and lit the wick. "Gentlemen," Mustang said firmly, cutting into their argument before they could start arguing about the finer points of the law. "Are you ready?"

Fuery looked like he absolutely did not want to go trekking around half-blind in the bowels of the city, but he nodded firmly with the rest. None of them asked if he had a specific plan for finding the others, and Mustang had to admit that he didn't. He had no idea how exactly they were going to navigate the catacombs, but he was confident that the four of them could keep their heads and figure it out as they went.

"Good." He raised the lit lantern, opting to skip the speech he'd half-planned out. They knew what they had to do.

Chapter Text

"Stop!" The call was warped, twisted by the echo from the walls around them. Havoc felt his skin prickle with nerves, unable to identify anything about the voice. He could barely tell that it was behind him, with the way the sound bounced and echoed.

Hawkeye hissed in surprise and Havoc turned in time to see Ed wrench himself free from her hold. The kid dropped to the ground, broken leg stuck out to the side. He'd apparently wiggled his bindings loose enough so he could slide his palms together. Again.

Havoc fought down the sudden, inappropriate urge to strangle Ed for messing with his bandages again. He was going to lose his other arm if he kept straining it like that.

Light flared, so jarring compared to the weak torchlight that Havoc had to close his eyes against the flash and turn his head away. In his arms, Maribella had started crying, audible even over the shriek of Ed's alchemy.

A wall of amalgamated stone and bone slammed across the passageway, sealing the path behind them. Ed was leaning forward, bracing himself on his automail arm as he gasped for breath.

"Edward!" Hawkeye's shout was tense, laced with anger, concern, and a thin layer of fear. If Ed went and knocked himself unconscious, Havoc wasn't sure they could carry him. They could hardly leave him behind either, since there was no way they could be sure they could find him again. They'd be stuck. "You need to stop wasting your energy on transmutations!"

Ed coughed once, harshly, and spit as Hawkeye helped him get back to his feet. "They can probably break through that," he said, jerking his chin at the impromptu wall and completely ignoring Hawkeye's order. "We need to get moving."

That, as they discovered, was easier said than done. Havoc kept bumping his shoulders into the walls as he stumbled on his feet. He was pretty sure the only reason he hadn't dropped the torch or the princess was the fact that his muscles had locked in place. Ed and Hawkeye weren't doing much better- he had to keep stopping to let them catch up and Hawkeye's nose had started bleeding again.

They turned another corner and found themselves in some sort of chamber- six other tunnels branched out from the room, all identical and no markings of any sort to indicate where they led.

Then the torch went out, its fuel finally spent.

Ed let out an eloquent sigh that Havoc just had to agree with.

Without any other way to orient themselves, they moved to the wall and felt their way to the first opening. There were noises coming from… somewhere. Logically, they should have been coming from behind, but the echoes were so distorted that it sounded like they were coming from somewhere ahead of them. Thinking about it made Havoc's head hurt even more. The bottom line was that they were stuck in the dark, injured, and they were being followed.

Hawkeye all but dumped Ed on the ground inside the tunnel and Havoc handed Mirabella down to him before he had chance to complain. "I can make a wall," Ed said from somewhere down below Havoc's waist.

"No," he and Hawkeye replied in unison. There wasn't anything they could do to stop Ed from using alchemy, but with luck they'd be able to hold their ground without it.

Havoc flexed his arm, trying to get feeling back in all his fingers now that he was no longer carrying the princess. A legbone with some charred cloth at the end was hardly a suitable weapon, and he knew Hawkeye only had a handful of bullets left on her. Surprise was their only advantage.

A beam of light cut into the main chamber and Havoc pressed himself against the corner, Hawkeye beside him. There were definitely multiple people coming out of one of the other tunnels- enough of them to outnumber the three of them.

The night just kept getting better and better.

The newcomers were talking, too quietly to be heard clearly. Havoc wasn't even sure what language they were speaking in. But they were coming closer. Footsteps were coming towards them, but only one from the sound of it. Havoc didn't even bother to try and peek around the corner to check. The light would blind him and whoever was headed towards them would see him immediately. Their only chance was a blind move. Hawkeye nodded silently, signaling she'd cover him.

The attacker was close enough that Havoc could hear him breathing; there was no time like the present. Havoc returned Hawkeye's nod, stepped out and swung blindly. The bone connected with an audible smack and the target let out a plaintive "Ow!"

Except… Havoc knew that voice. He squinted, bone raised for another attack. "Falman?" he asked in disbelief as the figure in front of him finally came into focus.

And it was Falman. The man was holding his forearm where Havoc had clubbed him. "Lieutenant Havoc!"

That caused a reaction- Havoc suddenly found Mustang blocking his entire field of view, Fuery at his side with a lantern. He looked less than pleased. "Lieutenant," he said, eyes darting over Havoc's shoulder to watch Breda go to Hawkeye and Ed. "Report."

"Uh," Havoc scratched at his neck, the tension starting to drain from him, "Ed blew up the floor and we got lost."

Mustang didn't look the least bit surprised.

"Glad that was you following us," Havoc said, gesturing back over his shoulder. "If we'd known it was you, Ed wouldn't have gone and transmuted that wall."

Falman stared at him, a frown forming on his face. "We never ran into a transmuted wall. And we can from the north end." The warrant officer pointed at the hallway opposite of the one Havoc had indicated.

"What?" If Mustang and the rest had come from that way, then they had been followed by someone else entirely. And really, who else would be wandering around the catacombs at this time of night, aside from Maribella's attackers?

A shout came from said tunnel and three men stumbled into the chamber, each armed with guns and one brandishing a pickaxe alongside it. The two groups stared at each other in surprise for a long moment, broken only when Maribella began to cry, clearly recognizing her would-be assassin.

"You!" Ed exploded, with all the dignity of a wet cat as he leaned against Breda, teeth bared. "You shot me!"

After that, it was hard to tell what exactly was happening. The one lantern swung wildly as Fuery dodged out of the way. The three attackers clearly hadn't been expecting to run into a full squad of soldiers and one very irate alchemist. It was a quick fight, especially once the assailants were disarmed. Havoc got the pleasure of smacking one of the men in the knee with his club.

After a quick, heated argument between Ed and Mustang, the Colonel transmuted rope from the remaining coats. The attackers were dazed enough to offer no resistance to Falman tying them up but were still aware enough to walk with the group.

"Make sure they're motivated," Mustang ordered and several guns were drawn and pointed. The assassins clearly got the message, even rattled as much as they were. Falman led the way back, with Ed and Breda bringing up the rear. Havoc was pretty sure Ed's death glare alone was enough to keep the would-be assassins in line. One of them kept looking at Ed nervously, as if he expected the boy to bite him.

It was probably a safe assumption, all things considered.

As it turned out, Mustang's group had traced their way through the tunnels by dragging a metal pipe through the dirt behind them. It was such a simple solution that Havoc couldn't believe they hadn't thought of it before they'd gone wandering around in the dark.

"I've been busy thinking about my broken leg," Ed snapped when Havoc asked him.

Hawkeye gave him a flat look, her annoyance clear behind the bruising on her face. "I was more concerned with getting Edward on his feet, lieutenant."

"You're just mad you didn't think of it either," he muttered petulantly. Neither of them deigned to answer that.

The trail led them right back to the church where Mustang and the rest had started. It was still packed, with partygoers, guards, and clergy members all moving about and shouting at each other. They were almost ignored entirely- one of the priests bustled right past them, two large pitchers of water in his hands. A guard and nobleman were arguing about something, gesturing wildly, when the guard happened to turn her head and spot Maribella. She broke off her sentence abruptly, eyes darting over the group.

They must have been quite the sight. They were all covered in dust, three of them had the wonderful bonus of being streaked with blood, they had three half-dazed men tied up behind them, and the princess was perched squarely on Fuery's shoulders.

"Maribella!" she shrieked, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

After that, chaos all but erupted. Maribella immediately reached out for the guard; she was someone the girl recognized. Fuery handed her over and the princess immediately began babbling in hasty Aerugan, waving her fists wildly as she recounted her evening. The guard's eyes darted between the princess and Mustang's group as she listened to the tale. Around them, people ran about, shouting at each other. Havoc couldn't even begin to follow it all.

Room was made on the pews for them and they were all ushered onto them. Havoc sat down gratefully, relieved to finally have the chance to sit down. Ed immediately sprawled out on the bench between Breda and Hawkeye, and propped his broken leg up on Breda's thigh. Someone thrust a cup of water into his hands and Havoc downed it in one go, only then realizing how long it'd been since he'd had anything to drink. Only Mustang remained standing, arms crossed and somehow managing to look composed, even with his uniform dusted with dirt.

Someone must have gone to fetch the king and queen, as they came barreling into the church, flanked by their numerous guards. Their arrival sent most of the onlookers running from the room, save for the guard holding Maribella and the handful of clergy trying to maintain order under their roof.

The princess was handed off to her parents and more discussion broke out. Someone had refilled Havoc's cup and he gratefully finished it off again, one eye on the royal family. They'd saved the princess, but Mustang had filled them in on how the situation looked from the other side, and that plenty of Aerugans thought they'd kidnapped the princess. Ending up in jail would certainly be a hell of a way to end the night.

The royal family left with a flurry of action and the original guard strode over to Mustang. They talked quietly for a moment before Mustang strode over. "Ambulances are on their way. They'll take the three of you to the hospital." Ed groaned in disappointment but was politely ignored. "The king and queen are personally ensuring that you'll be taken care of."

Hawkeye was the first to get back to her feet; sirens are started blaring from the doors, signaling the arrival of the medics. Havoc groaned at the thought of getting up and walking. Ed didn't seem much happier, but nudged Breda to help him get back up.

"When we get this all sorted out," Mustang said, giving Ed a firm look, "you're going to repair the building you destroyed."

"What? I've been shot in the arm, and you want me to transmute an entire palace back together?!" Ed jabbed an automail finger at Mustang as he sat up. "Besides, you don't know it was me! There's no proof!"

Mustang leveled a heavy stare at his subordinate and slipped one hand into his pocket. "I know for a fact that Havoc is capable of doing field stitches and you're more than able to transmute the materials. So the fact that you passed on stitches must certainly mean that the injury is minor. And I'll have you know that there is proof." Mustang pulled his hand from his pocket and all but slapped Ed's damaged pocket watch into the boy's outstretched hand.

Ed's jaw dropped.

"Next time you decide to level a building, don't leave such blatant evidence behind."

Havoc couldn't stop his snort of laughter. Sometimes karma came through.

"Nevertheless," Mustang went on, "You'll go to the hospital to get cleaned up. The last thing we need is you getting an infection from such a little cut."

Ed prickled at the implied short reference, but was still trying to get his thoughts in order and couldn't verbalize a proper response.

The colonel pointed imperiously towards the church doors, where the ambulances were waiting outside. "Go," he ordered, his tone making it clear that he'd had enough of Ed's obstinacy for the night.

Ed allowed Breda to lead him over to the medics, where Hawkeye was already being looked over. Havoc followed, doing his best to keep his snickering quiet and not antagonize Ed's sullen mood.

The medics descended on them when they arrived, and Havoc vaguely understood one of every ten words. He was sure he was being scolded for not properly bracing his wrist. With a sigh, he held out his hand for the medic to fuss over. Next to him, Ed managed to start an argument with the two medics working on his leg when one of them pulled out a needle. Havoc, on the other hand, opted to not turn down the offered pain medicine. When the medics were satisfied, the three of them were helped into the waiting ambulances.

"Have fun!" Breda called and Ed had enough time to give him one last scowl before the doors slammed shut.

Chapter Text

"The boy," the king said, gesturing at Edward, "how old is he?"

Mustang paused in his meal at the question. "He's fourteen." They had all been released from the hospital, even Edward, with the promise from the royal family that they could spend another few days recovering in the palace before leaving. They had been invited to brunch that morning in the solar. When they arrived, they found Ed already there, sprawled out on a lounge with his leg propped up and a tray of food next to him. The princess had planted herself next to him upon arriving and hadn't left his side since.

The king and queen exchanged a look and whispered quietly to each other.

"She very taken with him," the king went on, watching across the room as the princess accosted Ed with a fistful of colored pencils. The two could barely understand each other, but it was clear Maribella wanted Ed to color with her. And Ed, laid up with a broken leg and one functional arm, was really in no shape to refuse her. "She wants us to knight him."

Falman choked on his macaroon and Breda started laughing loud enough to get Ed's attention. He scowled at them from across the room, too far away to hear what was being said, before being pulled back to coloring by the princess's forceful insistence.

"That… is quite the honor," Mustang replied, obviously trying to be polite about it, "but I assure you, Fullmetal is hardly ready for-"

"His being an Amestrian would normally bar him, save for some sort of political agreement," the king continued, "Knighting him will put him in a favorable light, lessen the outrage around the match."

Mustang hesitated in reaching for his coffee. "Bar him from-? I'm sorry, Your Grace, I don't follow."

The queen waved a hand towards Ed and Maribella. "My cousin's youngest is his age. She's been scrambling to find a match before she turns sixteen and is presented to the court and publically embarrassed by the lack of suitors." She straightened in her chair. "Raquel is soon to turn fifteen, and will sadly only inherit a small barony in the north. It has made her marriage prospects quite hard to come by."

The Colonel stared. "You want Fullmetal to court a baroness?"

Havoc's fingers went numb and his toast slipped from his fingers. Across the table, Breda was laughing so hard he wasn't even making noise anymore.

"I do apologize if I offended, Colonel Mustang. I know State Alchemists are held in high standing in your country, but I must admit I do not know exactly how it would align with our own gentry."

Hawkeye had her head in her hands; Havoc couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or trying not to laugh. Possibly both. The mental image of Ed trying to navigate the Cretan royal court was both horrifying and hilarious.

And then the image of Ed, perched on a throne with a crown on his head, flashed through Havoc's mind. Ed, with the ability to command as he pleased. Havoc felt the icy tendrils of fear creep down his spine.

"I will be sure to pass on your invitation," Mustang replied, his tone suggesting he would do no such thing. A moment passed and he added, "In Amestris, marriage is held off until both parties are of legal age."

"And how old is that? Sixteen?"

"Twenty-five," Mustang lied smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That's not- ow!" Falman began, but Havoc slammed his heel down on the man's toes, cutting him off. He was entirely on board with Mustang lying about this.

The queen looked decidedly disappointed at this, but the king nodded once, seemingly resigned. "We shall wait, then. Raquel's family will just have to brave through it."

Across the room, Ed had fallen asleep and Maribella had taken that as an invitation to draw all over his cast. At the moment, her work consisted mostly of colorful scribbles. The rest of the breakfast past uneventfully, thankfully with no more effort from the king and queen to recruit Edward into the Cretan royal family.

"Fullmetal. I forbid you to go to Creta."

Over the line, Ed blew a raspberry to emphasize just how little he cared for Mustang's order. "Last I checked, I don't work for you anymore, Colonel."

Havoc snickered. Mustang was holed up in his office, door closed, supposedly having his "discussion" with Edward in private. But his staff was nothing if not nosy, and so Fuery had diligently tapped the line so they could all cluster around the headset and eavesdrop.

It had all started with one of Al's monthly letters. With all his traveling, Al had problems physically stopping by, so he remedied that with sending out letters. And to no one's surprise, the best way to keep track of Ed was through Al.

General Mustang had taken one look at Al's comment about Ed going to Creta's capitol city, swore colorfully, and stormed into his office. And so now here they were, ignoring the day's workload in favor of what would undoubtedly be a spectacular throwdown.

"They only sent tickets for me," Ed went on, "Had to go buy enough for everyone. The kids are going to love this, though, gonna be totally worth it."

"Your oldest is what, four? None of them are going to remember this."

"So? We can go back. They like me enough to invite me once, I'll probably get invited again."

Havoc could practically hear the General's blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. "You- No. You can't."

Breda leaned forward. "You think he'll tell Ed this is really an invitation to go court that baroness?"

"I doubt it," Falman replied.

"A hundred cens says he lets it slip on accident," Havoc said.

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "I'll take that bet."

A small pile of bills quickly formed on the desk between them.

"Mustang!" Ed snapped over the line, "What is your hang-up with this? I spent months is Creta before and you never said anything!"

"That was different!" Mustang shot back, his voice rising enough to be heard through the door of his office. "You were on the other side of the country!"

"The other side from what?"

"From-!"

Havoc, and the rest of the staff, leaned forward in anticipation. This is it, he's going to spill, Havoc thought gleefully, one eye on the pile of bills. Falman and Hawkeye always won the betting pools- just once he'd like to snatch victory from under their noses.

But Mustang was a master at controlling himself, presenting the face he wanted people to see. He clamped down on his words, determined to keep the truth away from Ed.

Ed took the resulting silence as a challenge and rose to meet it. "What're you gonna do? Stop my train? Close the border?"

"I just might," Mustang snapped, voice tight.

"Then you can haul yourself down here and explain to the kids that they can't go on this trip because Grandpa Matchstick is being a crotchety old man-"

"Fullmetal-!"

"-and his gout is making him cranky and unreasonable."

"I do not have gout." The general almost sounded petulant.

Ed made a noise that might have been a word or a belch. Either way, it spoke volumes of his opinion of Mustang. "Who even told you I was going?"

"Alphonse did. He has the common courtesy to let us know when one of you is about to go gallivanting about the continent."

"Whatever. Meet me at the West City train station if you want an ass kicking." The line went dead.

Mustang slammed the phone down loud enough for them to hear in the outer office. A moment passed before Falman quietly picked up the stack of cens and began to divvy them up between himself and Hawkeye. Havoc tried, and failed, to hide his look of disappointment. If only Ed hadn't hung up- he was sure Mustang had been on the verge of spilling the beans.

Several moments passed before Mustang stomped out of his office. He watched Falman count out the bills with a complete lack of surprise. "Hawkeye," he said, "get me on the phone with West City's command's center."

"No, sir," Hawkeye replied, accepting her winnings from Falman.

"This has the potential to become an international incident, Hawkeye. The king and queen will take this is a deliberate snub from Amestris."

"They'll take it as a snub from you personally, sir, since you told them you'd inform Edward of the marriage arrangement." She pocketed the money.

Mustang's jaw worked angrily. "It was not an arrangement, it was- it was-"He glanced over at the rest of his men, obviously looking for backup. Breda shook his head, once, slowly.

Falman had stashed his own winnings away. "You should tell Edward, sir."

"I'll never hear the end of it from him."

"You'll never hear the end of it if he walks blind into his own engagement party."

Havoc leaded back in his chair, taking solace in his betting loss with the fact that Mustang's day was well on its way to being ruined. "You really should have told them we don't do arranged marriages in Amestris," he said, folding his hands behind his head and feeling a little too smug for the situation. "And that you couldn't tell Ed who to marry anyway."

Mustang ignored him. "We'll be getting hell for this in a couple days." The general's face was dominated by a scowl.

Hawkeye stood with a nod. "I'll be sure to clear your schedule so you'll have time to handle it."

"Thank you, Hawkeye." Mustang didn't sound thankful in the least. He turned sharply on his heel and stalked into his office.

"On the bright side," Fuery said after a long moment of silence. "Ed might be mad enough to come visit!"