Chapter Text
Trisha draws the tip of her finger around the lip of her mug absentmindedly, lost in thought. Normally, this task would be done out of boredom while she waits for her friend Sarah to arrive at the pub for lunch, but today was different. Today, her mind was occupied by the strange but charming man she met at last night’s bonfire.
Bonfires have gone the same way for the past couple of years. Drink and dance with Sarah and Yuriy until the two decide to ‘sneak off’ to have some alone time, upon which she would either look for another group to join or, if she had too much to drink, head in for the night. Her standard bonfire routine.
Until a handsome stranger named Van Hohenheim threw a wrench in her routine in the best way possible.
She sighs softly as she recalls the moment when she crested the tall, dew-kissed grass of the hilltop overlooking the roaring bonfire below, where friends and family danced. And at the top sat him, Van Hohenheim, with Pinako as the two shared a drink, a brown wooden mug in his hand.
She had originally sought out Pinako to alleviate her boredom after Sarah and Yuriy left her, but her plans changed when her eyes met gold. Gold on gold on gold, if she's being exact, as if he were a manifestation of the very sun itself.
His hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail that cascaded down his back in golden waves, accented by the sharp beard adorning his chin and loose strands of hair that dangled before his face. His skin was like burnished metal that seemed to glow with an inner warmth, making her pale skin feel woefully dull in comparison. But what truly captivated her were his eyes. They were almost hidden behind his glasses, but at the right angle, she could see that they were like swirling pools of liquid gold, which, on anyone else, would be unfairly pretty. But on him, they seemed to hold an ancient weariness that added to his refined, weathered look.
She was sure she'd made a fool of herself as she stared like a dumbstruck little girl ogling her schoolyard crush, but neither party seemed to mind as Pinako quickly brought her into the conversation, reminiscing over old times with Hohenheim. She will be honest, she didn't hear much of Pinako's tale as she kept her eyes firmly on Hohenheim, who she's sure was doing the same for her. She would know; she kept staring at his beautiful eyes the entire time, and they never left hers.
For Pete's sake, they didn't even notice when Pinako had left, leaving them alone. She'll have to thank the woman later for that as that gave them the chance to talk all night long. And talk they did. From inquires from Hohenheim about her life, which she was surprised that he was interested in at all to be honest, to Hohenheim's rich tales of his travels throughout the country. She even learned that he's an alchemist, which doesn't mean much to her besides the fact that he must be very intelligent. He even showed her some of his alchemy as he made sculptures out of the dirt they stood on with a flash of light, like magic.
Though through it all, she noticed how reserved he was, downright self-deprecating at times, and she decided that he needs some joy in his life, and she is going to be the one to give it to him, come hell or high water.
Before Trisha can continue reminiscing about how she will execute her plan (and continue to think about how handsome Hohenheim was), a person slides into the chair across from her.
“Trisha, I would normally say sorry for abandoning you last night—” Sarah starts, smoothing out the folds of her dress as she sits down at in the chair across from her.
“No, no, I understand. A woman has her needs,” Trisha reassures, reaching out to give Sarah’s hand a reassuring pat.
“And I love you for understanding that, but rumor has it that a tall, handsome stranger kept you company all night.” Sarah gives her a knowing smirk.
Trisha blushes. “It sounds bad when you say it like that. And there’s no way there’s a rumor of that going around town.”
“Perhaps not around town, but Jeffery wouldn’t stop bringing it up at work.”
“Why won’t that boy give it up? It’s been a year already,” Trisha groans. She dated Jeffery for about a month until she dumped him once she realized that his constant interruption anytime she spoke wasn’t due to nerves.
“Because he’s as desperate as a puppy. Now enough about that, what happened after I left? Don’t tell me you made out with the stranger.”
“The stranger’s name is Hohenheim, and I didn’t make out with him. Hohenheim was a polite gentleman the entire time. He was far too awkward in an endearing way to do anything unsavory.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Spill the tea. What really happened last night?” Sarah asks, leaning in.
“Well, after you left me, I decided to go listen to Pinako’s group, to see if they had any fun stories. But Pinako wasn’t with her drinking buddies, just Hohenheim, and I took one look at him, and I just…" Trisha trails off as she sighs dreamily, recalling everything about the man who has claimed her heart.
Sarah stares at her with one delicate eyebrow raised before letting out a low hum. “Girl, you have it bad.”
Trisha can't help the flush creeping up her neck, but she doesn't shrink back as she says, “Can you blame me?”
“No. I can agree with you, Hohenheim is a fine sight for sore eyes, but you’re avoiding the issue in which he has at least twenty or so years on you.”
“Twenty seems too high. It’s got to be closer to fifteen.”
Sarah rolls her eyes. “Because thirty-five is better than forty, huh?”
"It matters!" Trisha defends. Sarah gives her another judging look, which she ignores. She needs her friend on her side if she's to find and court the handsome man. “Listen Sarah,” Trisha clasps her hands together and sits up straight, “I’m going to bang the strange but hot magical man and have his children, so you can either help me while judging me the entire time, or you can sit in the corner and still also judge me.”
Sarah continues to stare at her with that unamused expression before she finally sighs and says, “You know when you put it that way, I guess I’m helping you.”
Trisha lets out a little cheer and does a small dance in her seat. "Thank you, Sarah!" Sarah looks as if she's about to say something else, but Trisha quickly speaks to prevent any more doubts from her friend. “Last night, he said he was looking to build a house, so I don’t have to worry about him leaving town anytime soon.”
“Unless you chase him away,” Sarah quips.
“Shhh.” Trisha presses her pointer finger against Sarah’s lips. “None of that, Sarah. You said you were going to help.”
Sarah pushes her hand to the side and rolls her eyes. “I’m helping by providing reality checks.”
Trisha chooses to ignore her statement as she taps her chin as she thinks. “Maybe I can bring him drinks while he’s working on his house.”
“Trisha, he will probably have hired carpenters.”
“He’s an alchemist, he’ll obviously magic himself a house. Oh but then he won’t need any drinks because it will be built instantly. Oh! Then I will bring drinks as a housewarming gift! This is perfect. All I need to do is scour the town to find him.”
“Or you can come with me to have dinner with Yuriy and Pinako tomorrow because I know Hohenheim’s currently residing at their house due to him being friends with Pinako and you’re not going to harass him right after he’s built his house because you’ve only met him once and you don’t live next to him.”
Trisha perks up at Sarah's words, trying her best to contain her excitement. "You're the best, Sarah," Trisha says, unable to help the large grin spreading across her face.
Sarah ducks her head, a small smile gracing her lips. She's always been bad at accepting praise, Trisha muses. "I mean it, thank you," Trisha says sincerely.
"It's nothing, Trisha. I just want you to be happy," Sarah says.
Trisha's smile softens at Sarah's touching words. It's nice to have someone in her corner and hopefully she'll be adding one more soon.
Hohenheim plunges the pan in his hand into the soapy water before scrubbing at the grease stain with a rag. Perhaps he’s scrubbing a tad harder than usual, but the simple repetitive motion gives him something to focus on that has nothing to do with green eyes.
Very pretty green eyes that match an equally pretty face framed by gorgeous brown hair—Hohenheim stops the thought and scrubs harder at a brown spot that refuses to come off of the pan.
“Hohenheim, I appreciate your enthusiasm in cleaning my pans, but that spot isn’t going to come off,” Pinako pipes up from beside him.
Pinako’s presence startles him enough to drop the pan straight into the spud-filled sink, splashing cold water all over his front, making his friend laugh at his misfortune. A quiet curse escapes his lips as he goes for a towel in an attempt to clean up the mess he's just made.
“So,” Pinako drawls out the o in so as he continues to dab at his front with the towel, “when was the last time you were here for one of Resembool’s bonfire parties before last night?” Her intonation gives him the impression of a panther preparing to play with their food for some reason.
Hohenheim slows in his activity of drying his shirt to think and to wrack his brain of the past few days in case he’s done something embarrassing to warrant this impending interrogation. “...I believe it was five years ago. Give or take a year.”
Pinako hums as she leans against the countertop, the glee in her eyes never leaving as she stares him down. "And how would you rate last night's bonfire compared to the last one?"
It was wonderful, his mind supplies followed by an image of a beautiful smile that he quickly banishes. "It, it was fine," Hohenheim says, having to clear his throat midway through the sentence as he tries to compose himself.
"Oh, only fine? I thought it would have gotten a better score considering you spent all night hanging off of Trisha's every word," Pinako teases, a shit eating grin on her face.
Hohenheim can feel the heat creeping up his neck as he flushes with embarrassment. Wait, why is he feeling embarrassed like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't? He clears his throat, determined to move past the awkward feeling and to move the conversation along to something else. "Was there something you needed, Pinako?"
"We haven't had much of a chance to converse since last night," Pinako says as she goes for one of the dirty plates on the side of the sink, joining him in front of the basin full of soapy water as she acquires a rag to help him clean.
Hohenheim nods in agreement as he makes some room for her. He supposes that is true. After Pinako disappeared in the middle of his conversation with Trisha, he only had the chance to give her a passing hello this morning before she became busy with clients for the day.
"And now that I have your ear," Pinako begins, her voice dripping with curiosity as she bends over the basin to scrub a particularly stubborn spot of grease. "I want to hear every detail about what you and Trisha were chattering about all night. Don't hold back now."
"You could have known what we were talking about if you hadn't left us," Hohenheim says, feeling flustered once again as he picks up the pan from earlier to continue scrubbing.
"And get in the way of you two lovebirds cooing and carrying on like a couple of moon-eyed puppies? Thought I'd do you a solid and give you two some privacy."
"Wha—" Hohenheim fumbles with the pan in his hand, nearly dropping it into the sink once again. "We didn't—There's no need for such colorful commentary. Trisha and I were merely engaged in a friendly conversation, that's all!"
Pinako gives him a long, low hum as if she doesn't believe his words. "A friendly conversation that lasted til the bonfire burned out."
"We've talked until the bonfire burned out before Pinako," Hohenheim defends, setting the pan back in the basin in case he drops it again as he turns to face her directly.
"Sure, we've talked, but we've never talked like you did with Trisha last night." Pinako waggles an eyebrow at him as she speaks.
Hohenheim blinks at Pinako, not understanding what she's implying. "What does that mean?"
Pinako sighs and sets her rag down in the sink before giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, though Hohenheim gets the feeling she would be patting him on the head as if he were a naive child if she could. "It's alright, Hohenheim, I know you're a genius when it comes to that alchemical mumbo-jumbo but clueless with social cues. Don't you worry your pretty little head of yours, we'll get you sorted out. Now," she picks up her rag once again to scrub at her plate, "why don't you tell me all about this 'friendly conversation' of yours while we get these dishes cleaned up?"
Seeing as he's not getting out of this conversation, Hohenheim reluctantly begins to tell his friend all about last night, though he's not sure what she means by 'getting him sorted out'. As he speaks, Hohenheim gets the feeling that he's going to have another interrogation in his future. The souls have been oddly quiet in the back of his mind; normally, they're trying to add little quips to his conversations with the outside world.
About an hour later, Hohenheim makes his way to the guest bedroom with pruned fingers and still just as lost as to why Pinako was so interested in his conversation with Trisha from the night before. He's not sure what Pinako gleaned from his retelling of events, but she seemed satisfied before chasing him away from the dishes, telling him he's a guest and should be relaxing.
Once the door clicks shut behind him, the souls in his mind pick up in volume from their careful whispers to a loud, droning murmur. It's not unusual for them to become more lively when he's alone; they try to be polite and quiet when he's interacting with people, but right now, their conversations seem more spirited than normal. He focuses inward, attempting to concentrate on the noise, picking a random set of souls to see what they're talking about, but the moment he does so, the group seems to quiet down. Seeing that they don't want his attention, Hohenheim focuses on another group, but the same thing happens. Their conversation ceases, or they attempt to 'hide' behind other souls.
It’s perplexing. In all their years together, they’ve never acted like this.
"Is everything alright, everyone?" Hohenheim asks as he makes his way towards the dresser in the room to get some papers out of his briefcase.
There's a slew of responses, too many to really pick out, but he gets the gist that they're fine. He doesn't quite believe them, but there's nothing he can do to make them speak, so he resumes his task of locating his plans for his future home to make sure his notes are correct. Finally, after a few minutes of looking over the diagram, a lone voice speaks up.
'Hohenheim, when will you be talking to Trisha again?' Alon asks.
"I don't know?" Hohenheim says as a question, his quill stilling. That was rather abrupt and out of nowhere.
'Are you going to go seek her out?' Ezra asks.
"I wasn't planning on it," Hohenheim answers, a little surprised that his sentence brought forth a small bout of disappointment for himself.
The souls must share his sentiment because many of them make noises of displeasure. Some louder than others.
Hohenheim's brow furrows as he stares at the wall in front of the desk he's sitting at. "What has gotten into you all?"
Soleiman scoffs. 'Us? We should be asking you that, buddy.'
'We already know what's gotten into him, Soleiman. Hohenheim has taken a fancy to little miss Trisha,' Ariel practically sings.
The feeling of embarrassment comes surging back at Ariel's words. He can't see it, but he can feel his face burning red as he stammers, "I, I don't know what you're talking about."
'You can't play coy, Hohenheim. You haven't stopped thinking about her all day,' Rohham says.
Hohenheim presses his lips together in a thin line as any retort dies on his tongue. As much as he wants to deny it, Rohham isn't wrong; Trisha has been on his mind all day.
"So she has, but why bring it up now? Why do you seem so interested in this?"
‘This is the first time you’ve ever thought about someone in this manner.’
“No, it isn’t…” Hohenheim trails off, wracking his brain to recall any other time he’s found someone attractive or even thought about the matter. “I’d pursued some relationships in Xerxes-”
Kiya cuts him off. ‘That doesn’t count.’
‘We're talking about the past however-many-years we’ve been stuck like this,’ Jilani says.
‘Almost four hundred,’ Mirza answers.
Heidar swears. ‘Almost four hundred?! Fuck we’re old.’
'And Hohenheim hasn't done a double take on someone in all these years we've been with him,' Nami says.
Hohenheim tries to think of a time when something like this has happened but finds himself at a loss when nothing comes to mind. Has he really not thought about someone like this since he's become immortal?
'Apparently,' Ghiyas says.
And his embarrassment only grows.
'You're fine, Hohenheim, you can solve that now!' Bijan soothes.
‘Yes, by pursing her, Hohenheim. You think she’s cute!’ Ariel practically squeals.
“Um,” Hohenheim stammers, unsure how to proceed. "I'm not sure… I didn't make that many comments."
‘Yes you did. We heard it. You made a lot of comments about her eyes,’ Lital says.
‘And her hair,’ Bashe adds.
'And her smile!' Dekel chirps.
‘But nothing about her clothes being off. Here we can help. Imagine that her shirt is not on—’
“Nope! No, you don’t need to help with that!” Hohenheim yelps, covering his eyes as if that could stop the mental image. At least many other souls are joining in on chastising the soul who suggested that. He’s sure it was Hallel. He’s always been a horny bastard.
Once the berating is under control, Hohenheim speaks up, "I know you're all excited about this, but it wouldn't be right to pursue her. Need I remind you all that a relationship wouldn't work considering my condition?"
'Of course it could,' Ela says, her voice full of optimism. 'Love transcends all.'
"She deserves to be with someone like her," Hohenheim says pointedly. "And besides, there's no way Trisha would reciprocate my feelings."
There's a moment of silence, and Hohenheim shakes his head, wondering if his ears have suddenly given out, which doesn't make any sense considering he hears the souls in his mind, not outside of it.
'Oh blessed Red King, please guide this man. Give him the wisdom to find his way through the matters of the heart,' Yazdan suddenly says, cutting through the silence with a… prayer?
"Yazdan."
'Oh don't mind me, I'm merely calling upon our gods for your sake.'
Hohenheim pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses riding up his face. "You all are getting far too into this."
'Well someone has to!'
'You need help, and we are going to help you.'
'This will be for your own good.'
'Come on Hohenheim, live a little.'
'Tomorrow you need to seek out Trisha—'
There are far too many responses to pick out who's saying what, but Hohenheim clearly hears the latest words as he cuts them off. “There will be no relationship. If Trisha wants to be friends, then I'll gladly be her friend like I am with Pinako,” Hohenheim says firmly.
There’s a slew of responses acknowledging him, far too many to pick out their exact words, but he can clearly hear the disbelieving, sarcastic tone from them.
With a sigh, Hohenheim continues to look over the diagram for his home while the souls resume chatting with even more fervor than before. He had hoped the conversation would pacify them, instead, it seems to have done the opposite. They should hopefully calm down by the time he’s ready to turn in for the night. However, several hours later, he finds himself staring at the ceiling, growing annoyed at the never-ending stream of gossip the souls insist on participating in.
“Can you all gossip in the far corner of my brain? So I can get some sleep?”
The souls promise to quiet down. They don’t.