Chapter Text
“ It is universally acknowledged that any omega of good breeding, education, and status must be in want of a mate in equal regard” Ed can not help but let out a dry snort after reading such words. Well certainly not this Omega . Ed could not help but muse to himself as he skimmed through the rest of the absolutely ludicrous book that Roy had insisted he read along with the other mind numbing text to help prepare him for his debut to society. Ed thought the whole thing to be a cruel joke on the universe's part. Had anyone suggested that he might present as an omega a year ago he would have laughed out right in their face and claim that they were suffering from a fit of delusion. Seriously, him? An omega? He was the least omega-like person to ever exist. He was brash, short tempered, prone to violence,far more interested in mathematics and the sciences of the world than flower arrangements or playing the piano forte. Nothing like the simpering eager to please and look pretty omegas that are far more concerned on whether or not they are dressed in the newest fashion. Those were the kind of omegas to make up the greater part of the ton. Nothing like him, base born son of princeling who was God knows where for all he knew the Bastard could be dead in a ditch, his hands were far more comfortable skinning a boar then donning silken gloves, whose skin was covered in scars instead of scented oils, who had served in the military all be it for a short time not as a nurse or comfort companion but a soldier which was certainly not something no good omega would do. Ah yes and then there was the obvious good proper omegas do not have two automail limbs made of gears and porcelain. He was not calm, nor soft spoken, he wasn’t even that pretty by most people’s standards, his skin too dark from years spent in the sun, his features too sharp and his height….the only not worthy thing about him was his hair golden like the sun itself. He did not even have a particularly pleasing scent: a mix of pomegranate , ink and fresh tilled soil. So yeah, the odds of him presenting as an omega where one in million yet here he was an omega none the less. Not the beta he had always expected to become nor the alpha he had dreamed of .
Well life has already fucked over him more then count he really should be suprised. God seemed to be a cruel and uncaring master and it seemed that he was its favorite bitch.
He is drawn out of his thoughts by the old library doors creeping open on their old rusty hinges picking up a cloud of dust from the floor.
“Brother?” Al calls from the doorway of the library, the old wooden floor boards creaking under his weight, the familiar tapping of his crutches following.
“ Over here Al,” Ed responds from his hiding spot behind the thick velvet curtains on the far side of the room, not wanting his brother to overexert himself after only barely having recovered enough to walk about for short periods of time. A moment later the heavy curtain is pulled back casting light into the room exposing its truly poor state: the paint chipping, a fine layer of dust covering every surface, old leaves scattered about from a crack in one of the windows, the old paints on the wall so faded it was hard to make out any distinguishing features and standing in the middle of it all like the Sun himself was Al looking down at him with a look of worry. His mouth pulled into a frown and identical golden eyes flicking ever which way as if worried he would make a run for it.
“ The earl is looking for you” Al says slowly, as if Ed had no clue, as if he could not hear the racket he was making down stairs, tearing apart the estate looking for him, probably convinced that he had run off to Reasombol. While the thought had been tempting, he had neither the money nor the nerve. Teacher had not raised him to run away from a fight; she just never said that he’d had to face said fight right away.
Okay, he was a coward and he had no shame whatsoever about it… perhaps only a tad bit, but so would anyone in his position.
“ I don’t get why you don’t call him by his name. He adopted us more than three years ago, quit being so formal. First it was only referring to him by the Colonel, and now,” Ed states, waving his hand around in no particular direction, deflecting his brother's comment. Al’s frown deepens. It could almost be mistaken for a pout, but no that couldn’t be the case, for the heir of Stockworth does not pout, or so he has been told. Said heir of Stockworth opens his mouth back, probably the same dull agreement he made every time. Something about respect, priority, and loyalty or something or the other. After hearing it for the hundredth time it all starts to blur together.
“ Also, I know he’s looking for me. Why do you think I am here? Because I like breathing in dust bunnies?” Ed cannot help but snark before Al can get a word in, tilting his head to said dust bunnies flying through the air, dancing in the sunlight shining through the window. It’s such a shame that the weather could not reflect how truly awful this day would yet turn out. He wonders foolishly for a moment if breathing in an excessive amount of said dust bunnies would lead to him getting tuberculosis; perhaps then he could avoid this. He knows unfortunately that is not the case, he’ll more than likely have slightly itchy lungs, a cough and perhaps a small dust bunny hair ball if he was so unlucky. As if his brother could read his thoughts he sighs heavily, as if Ed were one of the troublesome kittens he keeps.
“Brother, would it kill you to take things more seriously for once? After all today is—“ Al starts, exasperated by his antics the same way he had when Ed had suggested dumping a bucket of pig shit upon one of the rather temperamental and rakish alphas that kept pestering any omega that came into his sight, many of which came to Teacher for remedies and tinctures. To help him realize his true form, a piece of shit, he’d said back then when asked why he did it. He was rather lucky that Teacher found his answer rather amusing and fitting, otherwise he might have spent those next couple days with a limp in his step. He did not get off so easily; instead he was given the tasks of drying the pig’s kidney, boiling the feet, and gathering foxglove. He had begrudgingly expected his punishment all the while Al had the exact same look of exasperation on his face as if asking why he was this way. He had an answer to his question but he doubted Al would like the answer.
“ I know what today is, thank you very much,” He snapped back rather sharply. Perhaps a little too sharp, he thinks as he watches Al seem to sink deeper into his crutches. Ed could not help the pang of guilt that rang through him at the sight, but he pushed it aside, instead rising from his place on the dusty floor and urging his brother back toward the open library doors.
“Now leave before he, or worse she, finds me here” Ed says firmly, but not unkindly as he tries his best to force Al out the door. Key word is try, as Al had all but gone still becoming near immobile, sinking his crutches firmly into the floor. No matter how Ed pushed and threatened, the taller beta stood firm. He could have easily moved him if he wanted, sweeping his legs from under him and dragging him out by the legs, but that would risk possibly aggravating Al’s old wounds and causing pain. A choice he would not risk after his brother's more recent improvements in his condition. A fact that Al knew and was now using to his advantage. Ed could feel himself growing more worried by the second the more time Al spent here, the more likely someone would notice his absence and the more likely that she would come looking for them both.
“ And who exactly are you referring to, may I ask” The devil herself asks in her alarmingly calm tone from the doorway.
Well fuck.
Both he and Al turn to face the third person entering the room. Her keen eyes are already taking everything in before settling on him with a look he was all too familiar with.
“ Good afternoon, Governance Hawkeye,” Ed greets politely, trying his best to suppress the cold sweat running down his back as Riza levels him with a rather severe look.
Well there goes that plan, he cannot help but think to himself as the governess closes the distance between her and the two brothers in a matter of seconds.
“ What are you doing here? Look at you covered in dust, it is a miracle you haven’t ruined your dress,” she states, her rather calm tone tinged with a slight bit of disbelief as if this was the first time he had tried to give her or Roy the old slip. Al quickly moves out of her way not wanting to be caught in her ire stand behind him while he gets fussed and prodded about.
Coward.
So much for loyalty.
He casts his brother a betrayed look to which Al shrugs as if telling him not to blame him. All the while Riza does her best to wipe away the dust that clings onto the white silken dress he had been forced into. An uncomfortable thing of white silk and lace that clung too tightly to his skin and it irritated to no end, it was, with a neckline that left little to the imagination, a long cape that he had nearly tripped on and broken his neck nearly three times over just this morning. It was not only the most impractical thing he had ever worn but also had the most garish pearls and opals sewn in, lining the bust and hem held in place by golden embroidered flames and roses. As if that wasn’t enough, he was forced to wear matching gloves, a rather heavy opal choker necklace that was determined to choke him, and a matching set of earrings which had apparently belonged to the late earl’s sister. He was not exactly sure how he should feel about wearing a dead woman’s jewelry. He had only barely managed to make his escape before he was forced to don the ridiculous feather tiara. He did not understand why he couldn’t just wear a pair of nice breeches and a white embroidered coat instead of being forced into such a ridiculous get up, but no the rules of society dictate that he wear a dress for the simple reason that he had a cunt. As if that ever mattered before; working class omegas wear pants without facing the “horror” of losing their fertility, nor did their minds become dulled. Whoever had made the suggestion was clearly a dumb ass of the highest degree and clearly never talked to an omega, male or female. Otherwise they would have laughed in their face and called them a misogynistic clown. Although if Ed was ever given a chance to meet said person they would have more to worry about than his sharp tongue.
“Well, you see about that,” Ed starts, trying not to squirm under Riza's attention as she meticulously dusts and picks out any dust or lint from his clothes and hair. He briefly thinks about jumping out the window, if not for the hand that Riza keeps clamped around his left shoulder more than likely to prevent him from doing so.
Curse her and her foresight.
“ Edward Elric Mustang you come out right this minute or I swear to God,” He can hear Roy bellow from just down the hall, footsteps heavy and frustrated. They all freeze, six pairs of eyes flicking to one another before two of the four land on him. Ed tries to put on his best pleading puppy dog eyes he had seen Hayste give Riza begging her not to say anything.
It does not work.
“ He’s in here Sir,” Riza calls out, unable to look him in the eye.
Son of bitch. His entire family was a bunch of traitorous cowards.
It must be a family trait.
It is not long before the man partly responsible for this whole mess storms into the room. Roy Mustang, Earl of Stockworth , his former military supervisor and now adoptive father, in all of his glory. His hair disheveled and standing up in some places as if he had been repeatedly running his finger through it, the top buttons of his collar are loose, his cravat hanging limply around his neck, his gloves hanging half way out of his navy blue waistcoat, which gleams ever so slightly, the right side on his chest weighted down with his military feats, his normally unbothered and self assured demeanor shattered by frustration, and in his hand he hold Ed’s horrid feathered tiara.
“ There you are! What on earth were you thinking?! And today of all days! At this rate we’ll be lucky if no one notices we have not yet arrived at the palace,” Roy rants quickly, walking over to the trio towering over Ed. Hand flicking every which way to convey his frustration he continues on, his tone a mix of anger, frustration and exhaustion. He was saying something or the other about him needing to take this more seriously, that he couldn’t keep living in denial or something like that he’s drowned it out, or rather his body is picking up on his adoptive father's tone and scent thick with anger and stress. The same one tone he hasn’t used since the accident.
How could you be so stupid Edward you could have died! What would have happened then? How was I supposed to tell Al that you died because you took a hit that was meant for me! How was I supposed to live knowing that your death was my fault? Ed do you understand. You can’t go around trying to save every living thing that dies on you. It's not healthy and it’s not realistic. Are you really willing to throw away your life so easily? Answer me Ed!
He hates the way his body tenses up, hates the way he can feel his blood rushing in his ears, hates the pit of dread that forms in his stomach, hates the way every fiber of his being is telling him to run. While the other half is telling him to stand his ground, to bear his teeth and not his neck. He hates the way his mind races through the pros and cons of fight or flight when Roy gestures a little too fast. He hates the small sound the tumbles out of his lips like a wounded animal, hates the way he can smell his scent change shifting to a sharp bitterness. He hates that his body believes that the man who had become like his father would ever harm him.
He hates it.
“ We shall meet you in carriage Sir,” Riza's voice breaks through the haze clouding his mind, her keen eyes missing nothing. As she shepherds a concerned looking Al out the door with little fuss, she closes the library door behind them. Leaving him and Roy alone, he once again thinks about throwing himself out the window, eyes flicking between Roy and the window before landing back on Roy who has gone still, mouth set in a thin line.
“ Hey, hey look at me,” Roy says softly, almost breathlessly, holding his gaze as he slowly reaches out his hand to cup his face. His first reaction is to jerk away from the touch, while the other half, the stronger half, leans into the warmth of the rough, callused hands, the scent of fire, iron, and ink filling his senses.
Ink like him and Al.
He can help but press his nose close to Roy’s wrist, taking in his scent fully, slowly feeling it settle over him like a warm weighted blanket grounding him. Slowly, he comes down from his panic induced high. Roy says nothing, merely watches him with a keen eye, only waiting to speak after a few minutes have passed and he is sure that Ed will not flee.
“I am sorry for yelling,” Roy continues in a soothing low voice Ed can hear the shame and sincerity in the way his words catch and his sharp breath. “It just that.. today is important,” He can feel Roy tense, feeling the muscles in his hand twitching before loosening.
“ Can't you, can we not push back my coming out for another year? Allow me to focus more on my studies?” Ed speaks once he’s sure his voice won’t betray him. Ed knew that Roy could not, he knew that Roy broke protocol when he had not brought Al and him to court once the adoption was officialized. He knew that Roy had faced criticism from the ton for keeping him and Al hidden away all these years. He knew that with his presentation it was only a matter of time before Roy’s hand would be forced. He knew that even if he had focused another year on his etiquette lessons or his how to be a proper idiot 101, as he called it, it still wouldn’t be enough he was never going to be a perfect Omega, not when his peers had years of practice and training. He knew all of this and hated it all the same. Dread settles in his stomach as he watches Roy face shift from despair to anger all within a moment before his features smooth over into the careful confident mask he wore.
“Ed, you know I can’t, don't worry you’ll do just fine. I’ll be right there with you along with Al and Riza, it’s going to be okay,” Roys says in an overly confident manner, as if he was trying to convince himself more than Ed. He must have made a face at hearing those not reassuring words. God, it was no wonder he was never chosen to give speeches to the truth back in Ashti. Come to think of it, it was either an incredible act of divinity or stupidity that Roy had been sent back to England at all to enlist more men for the war. He watches Roy give a full body sigh, his shoulder sinking slightly, a frown pulling at his lips. It seems like the Earl and heir have something in common. Why could anyone be mistaken for any but father and son? When they both have the same pout. Ed can not help thinking as Roy adds, “ I promise we’ll leave in just two hours, but you have to promise me that you’ll start taking your lesson seriously from now on, deal?” Roy offers, removing his palm from Ed’s face, which he is embarrassed to admit he misses as the scent of his dad leaves with it. Roy holds out his hand for a handshake with Ed, who eagerly grasps it, shaking it firmly.
“Deal”.
“Good, now let’s go, we’re already late as it is,” Roy says quickly handing Ed his horrid feathered monstrosity before shepherding him out the library doors, trying his best to put on his gloves with his teeth while leading Ed down the hall, down the stairs, down the foyer, out through the front doors, out into his doom.
“ Remember to smile, breathe, curtsy, but not too low, don’t make direct eye contact, and for the love that is everything good do not cause a scene please,” Roy reminds him for the hundredth time already having to hear the same lecture on the carriage ride over. The tall alpha seemed more nervous than him, pacing back and forth in front of him, a nervous habit he recognized from years serving under him during his time in the military. It’s strangely comforting to see him just as nervous as him even if the other mothers and fathers of his peers do not seem to share the same sentiments. Giving the former war hero a wide berth as he continues to pace back and forth in a circle around Ed. He is almost certain that if Roy had sped up even a little the lush red carpet under their feet would go up in flames in all honesty Ed was not sure how he hadn’t gotten vertigo from how much the man was spiraling out of control quite literally. He pays him little mind as he readjust the damn feathery monstrosity upon his head that insisted leaning forward nearly toppling over anytime he moved.
Fuck this damn outfit and fuck ever other person who seemed to have no issues with there wardrobe. Ed could not help but think in frustration glancing at the other debuting lords and ladies of the standing ton in the antichamber. All of them the image of calm and grace, dresses perfectly pressed, gloved hand clasped before them, not a hair out of place, their parents just as relaxed by their sides beaming with pride. He couldn’t help but feel subconscious of his posture, his slightly wrinkled dress, his long almost shoulder length gloved hands that hung uselessly and his side, he couldn’t help but trying and smooth out the hairs that had fallen out from his bun and he couldn’t help but watch they eyes of every person in the room that came continuously flicks between him and Roy pulling their children a closer to themselves.
“ The right and honorable Mr. Edward Elric Mustang” The herald from beyond the antichamber doors calls. Immediately, after years of conditioning Roy is called to attention, stopping dead in his tracks in front of Ed fixing his tiara in record time with the same precision as he would assemble his bayonet. Roy awkwardly looping his arms through Ed’s as if doing for the first time. He swears to God that if Roy crouches down every slight he will punch him in the stomach no matter who is watching. Instead he keeps his back ram rod straight as he leads the both of them through the double golden door which is pulled open by the royal foot men on the other side.
“Presented by his Father the right and honorable earl Roy Mustang of Stocksworth,” The herald announces to the court as he and Roy make their way down the long aisle to the raised dais of the throne where Prince Regent dipshit Bradley, and deserve way better Princess Charlotte sat watching with keen eyes while the rest of the court did the same. Despite what Roy might have anticipated, everything seemed to be going well, his posture straight, his steps even and smooth, his eyes forward cased down so as not to be rude. From his right he could make out Al’s figure amongst the other members of the ton with Riza standing respectfully behind. He then cast a look to his left to at Roy’s less than gracefully form next to him. His dark brown, almost black eyes shifted from side to side, his skin a bit paler than normal, his posture uncomfortably so to the point he could see his cardioid artery bulging from under his skin. If he had been wound up any tighter he would likely have exploded much like the goods of his craft.
“ Breathe,” he could not help but mutter under his breath, not enough that anyone else could hear him, lips barely moving, as they are pulled up in a genuine smile.
“ I should be the one to tell you that” Roy huffs next to him barely above a whisper, but he relaxes every so slightly at least enough not to look like he is being walked to the guillotine. It is not long before they both stand behind the dais of the Prince Regent and the Princess.
“ Your majesties” We both say in unison Roy taking the lead and bowing slightly while he by some miracle does not fall face first as his courtesy.
Perhaps Riza’s lessons are paying off; he could
not help but think into himself as he rises carefully to keep his eyes down less the man before him sees the contempt and hate he holds.
“ It is always a pleasure to see the hero of Ashti and your ward, of course” Bradley says, sounding far too pleased as if he and Roy were his favorite show ponies that had performed a rather amusing trick. In a way he supposed they are. He can hear the low mutters of the court behind them but he pays them nor the man in front of him no mind. Instead focusing on keeping his anger in check. God how he wished he could wipe that smug attitude of his face, he wishes he had left a deeper cut on his cheek the first time they met when was but a prince and Ed but a soldier eager to show his worth not knowing that man charged the blade of his bayonet only centimeters away from the fresh cut that bloomed on his right cheek, would become the man he hated most in the world. Back then he had called him brave with nerves of steel now however there was no such praise only contempt.
“ I expect a good show from you, lad” Bradley spoke, turning his full attention onto him. He need not look up to see his single good eye staring down at him. Nor did he need to be told what the Prince so clearly wanted from him.
Behave or else.
“ But of course dear, cousin” Ed replies with as much sweetness in his voice as he can muster a voice high enough so as only the prince could hear. His eyes raised to meet the princes in a slight challenge. He can feel Roy tense beside him if he had looked back he would have probably been met with a mix of modified and panic. Instead he keeps his eyes firmly on Bradley watching the concerns around his eye twitch and smile that had once been on his lips growing sharp. Before Ed could get into a fits fight with the ruler of the nation or get him and his family exiled. He notices Princess Charlotte raising from her sits gracefully placing a hand out on her husband's shoulder who casts her a confused look before she turns, descending from the dais slowly standing before him.
Crap! What should he do, Riza’s lesson didn’t account for this fuck, fuck, do I bow? Do I kiss her hand? Does she want me to apologize like sorry my grace you are kind and generous however your husband is a complete and utter dick.
Ed freezes like a mouse caught in a trap as the German princess raises her gloved hands to gently cup his face. Her soft brown eyes gazed into his with such tenderness that it caught him off guard. He can pick up only the faintest smell of the older beta women, a scent of old books and vanilla.
What the hell is happening?
Ed stays stock still as the princess seems to examine every inch of him, he is quite frankly surprised she did not inspect his teeth.
He truly had become a show pony for the royal family.
Ed is unsure what to make of the sudden turn of events; he had only ever met the princess once before when she had made a visit to Saint Maryam’s informatory shortly after he had arrived back from the war with Roy. She had come to visit all the soldiers who had been injured, brought them sweets and talked to them one by one personally thanking them for their service, hearing each one of their stories patiently. Ed honestly couldn’t even remember much of what they had talked off when it was finally his turn to speak with her, something or the other of where he grew up, if he had siblings and what were his plans moving forward. He remembered that she had seemed to spend more time with him then any of the other soldiers although he had to attribute that to his age. He was younger than most of them by five years to more than a decade. He remembered that she had given him a medal and told him that she was always at his disposal. He was sure it was one of those polite things people said but didn’t really mean yet she stood here with his face cupped in her hands he couldn’t be so sure.
“ Breathtaking, my dear,” The princess says, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his brow. She whispered something into his skin. Something about how she would be so proud of this moment, before pulling away, her hands slowly falling away from his face, but still looking at him as if? He’s not quite sure what. He was not even sure any of this was real, he's half way convinced that this is all some hallucination his stressed brain cooked up on the carriage ride over here. But no, he’s really still standing in the antichamber. He notices the feeling of Roy pulling back his flesh arm forcing him to bow and the court buzzing mutters that this is real. Roy thanks the Prince Regent and the Princess before he practically drags Ed out of the throne room while everyone one looks on. All while Roy throws him what the hell was that look, as if he knew. All he knew was there goes his hope of going unnoticed and undeserved.
Fuck my life.
This is going to be the longest two hours of my life, he couldn’t help but mused to himself.