FMA Fic: "Ringmaster" 1/1
Author: evil_little_dog
Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist
H/C: Slaves
Title: Ringmaster
Medium: Fanfiction
Rating: K+
Warnings: Alternate reality, post-108. Edward keeps his alchemy/automail.
Summary: Drachma instituted alchemists battling in the ring. It’s Edward’s turn to enter it.
Word Count: Appx. 1,200
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns absolutely everything.
Notes: Thank you to gaia_lulia for her edits! Additionally, there might be more of this. Just don’t hold your breath.
X X X
Something thundered on the next floor up, dust filtering down on Edward. He closed his eyes, trying to protect his vision. Next to him, Winry growled, and he could hear her arranging the sheeting to keep her work area somewhat dirt free. “These idiots don’t know how delicate this equipment is. If your joints get gummed up with dust, or - ” the words vanished into a low grumble that Edward didn’t bother deciphering. He trusted Winry. She’d make sure his automail was in perfect condition. He just hoped she’d have time to finish the tune up before he got called into the ring.
Oh god, the ring. His stomach jumped with nerves and Edward pressed his flesh fingers over his mouth, trying to keep from vomiting.
“If you’re going to be sick, I’ll get a bucket,” Winry said.
Edward raised his head to meet her eyes; then had to turn his own away. What he saw in Winry’s gaze - fear, pity, rage - made his stomach twist tighter. Something else, too, that he didn’t want to name. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile. “No. I’ll be okay.” He bent each of his automail fingers in sequence, saying with feigned irritation, “Are you almost done? I can’t sit here all day.”
“I know!” she snapped, and bent back over his open arm. The sharp twinge of a pinched nerve wire made Edward bite his tongue to keep from swearing at her. The pain subsided in a minute, but it still felt like his arm tingled. He almost reached out to touch the top of her head, but he didn’t want to distract her, and made himself stay still.
How had all this happened - Drachma gaining control of Amestris? No, he knew that. How long had it been planned? Edward thought maybe the idea had been planted back when he was in the Briggs Mountains. When Kimbley disappeared, after Edward had fallen, almost to his death. He vaguely remembered Darius and Heinkel discussing it while he’d been recovering in that doctor’s back room, that Drachma had their own alchemist. Maybe Kimbley; who knew for sure? But Kimbley’d said he wanted to watch, and let things play out between humans and the homunculi to see which one would wind up on top. Had that been a story? Or had he decided to throw in his lot with Drachma, and tell that country about the Promised Day, and how either Amestris would be destroyed completely, or those left over would be easy pickings?
Whatever it was, Drachma had been lying in wait, and, once the battle with Father was over, once it was fucking safe for Amestris again, Drachma had attacked. It hadn’t even been hours after he’d defeated Father, and his - their - old man gave up his life to bring Alphonse’s body back. Amestris was too stunned - too exhausted - to fight back, and now, now…
“Damn it!” Edward clenched his hands, the automail creaking.
“Hold still!” Winry snapped, pushing his right arm onto the bench again. Edward gritted his teeth and let her finish her work.
Alchemy was supposed to help people, but when Drachma took over the country, they’d instituted a new way for alchemists to ‘serve’. Alchemists wore collars, and, when not training, were shackled and otherwise restrained. Even now, Edward couldn’t block the sight of his trainer, watching him from outside his cell, making sure he didn’t try to escape. Like he would - he knew what would happen to Alphonse - to Winry - if he attempted it. With them as hostages, there was no way he’d fall out of line. Alphonse was still too weak to protect himself, much less Winry.
She’d been found out in his military records - something the Drachmans were quick to make use of - and she and Pinako had been taken prisoner, too. He remembered when his master had shown up in the cells, a guard hauling a blond girl behind him. Sorgai had dragged Winry’s head back by her hair, shoving her against the cell bars, hard enough to bruise.
“I have a present for you, Fullmetal. If you remember to behave yourself, I’ll let you spend time with her, and let her take care of your brother, too.” Edward had known what would happen to Alphonse and Winry if he wasn’t cooperative, the collar tightening that much more around his neck.
Shaking his head of the memories, Edward tried to focus on the ring, on what would happen there in a few minutes. His stomach roiled, but he ignored it. He had to survive. He had to get past this. He had to be able to see Alphonse again. Edward had to know his little brother was whole.
Winry finished tightening the grill plate down on his automail arm. “I made it a little heavier,” she said, stroking the metal. “The metal composition is the same, though. I wanted to give you a little extra reach.” She didn’t need to add ‘if you need it in the ring’, that was understood. “Our ma-” It took a few seconds for her to control her voice again, and she went on. “Our master insisted you be able to wear the knee and shin plate, too.” Her hand moved to rest on Edward’s metal knee cap. He imagined he could feel her shaking through that touch. Maybe it wasn’t his imagination.
Edward smiled, covering her hand with his. “Thanks, Winry. You’re the best.”
She raised her eyes, and he swallowed hard at the tears caught in her lashes. Leaning forward quickly before he lost his nerve, he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was rough, and hard, and he knew it wasn’t very good, and his trainer laughed at the sight of it, making it even worse knowing the kiss would get back to his master - their master - and it’d be used against them. But Edward blotted all of that out to offer another kiss, softer this time, with Winry’s chapped lips moving under his. Their foreheads touched and their breaths mingled, and he was sure he could taste the bitter sorrow in her mouth. He wondered what he tasted like - wasted potential? Hopelessness?
“Ed,” Winry breathed, and all he could see was her eyes, and all the emotion caught up in them.
A roar shook the cell, the sound carrying away anything else. Edward caught hold of Winry, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. Was she shaking? Was he? He clung to her, wishing - damn it!
“Hey! Fullmetal. Let go of your girlfriend. It’s time.”
Slowly releasing Winry, Edward climbed out the chair. He took a deep breath, swallowing his nerves. His flesh hand ruffled the crown of her head as he stepped around her, walking unsteadily to stand in front of his trainer. “I’m ready.”
“I know you are.” He grabbed Edward’s automail arm and turned him to go into the corridor that led up to the ring.
“Ed!”
Hesitating in the doorway, he looked back at Winry. “Don’t die,” she mouthed.
His trainer laughed, slapping Edward’s shoulder, nearly sending him stumbling. “Don’t worry, girl, he’ll come back to you alive.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, almost wishing he dared - but he wouldn’t, couldn’t lie down and die. Not with Alphonse and Winry counting on him to live. “Yeah, Winry.” Edward smiled, toothy, confident, the cocky smile she needed to see. “I’ll see you soon.” Turning abruptly, he started walking down that corridor, toward the ring, and his future.
X X X
Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist
H/C: Slaves
Title: Ringmaster
Medium: Fanfiction
Rating: K+
Warnings: Alternate reality, post-108. Edward keeps his alchemy/automail.
Summary: Drachma instituted alchemists battling in the ring. It’s Edward’s turn to enter it.
Word Count: Appx. 1,200
Disclaimer: Arakawa owns absolutely everything.
Notes: Thank you to gaia_lulia for her edits! Additionally, there might be more of this. Just don’t hold your breath.
X X X
Something thundered on the next floor up, dust filtering down on Edward. He closed his eyes, trying to protect his vision. Next to him, Winry growled, and he could hear her arranging the sheeting to keep her work area somewhat dirt free. “These idiots don’t know how delicate this equipment is. If your joints get gummed up with dust, or - ” the words vanished into a low grumble that Edward didn’t bother deciphering. He trusted Winry. She’d make sure his automail was in perfect condition. He just hoped she’d have time to finish the tune up before he got called into the ring.
Oh god, the ring. His stomach jumped with nerves and Edward pressed his flesh fingers over his mouth, trying to keep from vomiting.
“If you’re going to be sick, I’ll get a bucket,” Winry said.
Edward raised his head to meet her eyes; then had to turn his own away. What he saw in Winry’s gaze - fear, pity, rage - made his stomach twist tighter. Something else, too, that he didn’t want to name. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile. “No. I’ll be okay.” He bent each of his automail fingers in sequence, saying with feigned irritation, “Are you almost done? I can’t sit here all day.”
“I know!” she snapped, and bent back over his open arm. The sharp twinge of a pinched nerve wire made Edward bite his tongue to keep from swearing at her. The pain subsided in a minute, but it still felt like his arm tingled. He almost reached out to touch the top of her head, but he didn’t want to distract her, and made himself stay still.
How had all this happened - Drachma gaining control of Amestris? No, he knew that. How long had it been planned? Edward thought maybe the idea had been planted back when he was in the Briggs Mountains. When Kimbley disappeared, after Edward had fallen, almost to his death. He vaguely remembered Darius and Heinkel discussing it while he’d been recovering in that doctor’s back room, that Drachma had their own alchemist. Maybe Kimbley; who knew for sure? But Kimbley’d said he wanted to watch, and let things play out between humans and the homunculi to see which one would wind up on top. Had that been a story? Or had he decided to throw in his lot with Drachma, and tell that country about the Promised Day, and how either Amestris would be destroyed completely, or those left over would be easy pickings?
Whatever it was, Drachma had been lying in wait, and, once the battle with Father was over, once it was fucking safe for Amestris again, Drachma had attacked. It hadn’t even been hours after he’d defeated Father, and his - their - old man gave up his life to bring Alphonse’s body back. Amestris was too stunned - too exhausted - to fight back, and now, now…
“Damn it!” Edward clenched his hands, the automail creaking.
“Hold still!” Winry snapped, pushing his right arm onto the bench again. Edward gritted his teeth and let her finish her work.
Alchemy was supposed to help people, but when Drachma took over the country, they’d instituted a new way for alchemists to ‘serve’. Alchemists wore collars, and, when not training, were shackled and otherwise restrained. Even now, Edward couldn’t block the sight of his trainer, watching him from outside his cell, making sure he didn’t try to escape. Like he would - he knew what would happen to Alphonse - to Winry - if he attempted it. With them as hostages, there was no way he’d fall out of line. Alphonse was still too weak to protect himself, much less Winry.
She’d been found out in his military records - something the Drachmans were quick to make use of - and she and Pinako had been taken prisoner, too. He remembered when his master had shown up in the cells, a guard hauling a blond girl behind him. Sorgai had dragged Winry’s head back by her hair, shoving her against the cell bars, hard enough to bruise.
“I have a present for you, Fullmetal. If you remember to behave yourself, I’ll let you spend time with her, and let her take care of your brother, too.” Edward had known what would happen to Alphonse and Winry if he wasn’t cooperative, the collar tightening that much more around his neck.
Shaking his head of the memories, Edward tried to focus on the ring, on what would happen there in a few minutes. His stomach roiled, but he ignored it. He had to survive. He had to get past this. He had to be able to see Alphonse again. Edward had to know his little brother was whole.
Winry finished tightening the grill plate down on his automail arm. “I made it a little heavier,” she said, stroking the metal. “The metal composition is the same, though. I wanted to give you a little extra reach.” She didn’t need to add ‘if you need it in the ring’, that was understood. “Our ma-” It took a few seconds for her to control her voice again, and she went on. “Our master insisted you be able to wear the knee and shin plate, too.” Her hand moved to rest on Edward’s metal knee cap. He imagined he could feel her shaking through that touch. Maybe it wasn’t his imagination.
Edward smiled, covering her hand with his. “Thanks, Winry. You’re the best.”
She raised her eyes, and he swallowed hard at the tears caught in her lashes. Leaning forward quickly before he lost his nerve, he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was rough, and hard, and he knew it wasn’t very good, and his trainer laughed at the sight of it, making it even worse knowing the kiss would get back to his master - their master - and it’d be used against them. But Edward blotted all of that out to offer another kiss, softer this time, with Winry’s chapped lips moving under his. Their foreheads touched and their breaths mingled, and he was sure he could taste the bitter sorrow in her mouth. He wondered what he tasted like - wasted potential? Hopelessness?
“Ed,” Winry breathed, and all he could see was her eyes, and all the emotion caught up in them.
A roar shook the cell, the sound carrying away anything else. Edward caught hold of Winry, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. Was she shaking? Was he? He clung to her, wishing - damn it!
“Hey! Fullmetal. Let go of your girlfriend. It’s time.”
Slowly releasing Winry, Edward climbed out the chair. He took a deep breath, swallowing his nerves. His flesh hand ruffled the crown of her head as he stepped around her, walking unsteadily to stand in front of his trainer. “I’m ready.”
“I know you are.” He grabbed Edward’s automail arm and turned him to go into the corridor that led up to the ring.
“Ed!”
Hesitating in the doorway, he looked back at Winry. “Don’t die,” she mouthed.
His trainer laughed, slapping Edward’s shoulder, nearly sending him stumbling. “Don’t worry, girl, he’ll come back to you alive.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, almost wishing he dared - but he wouldn’t, couldn’t lie down and die. Not with Alphonse and Winry counting on him to live. “Yeah, Winry.” Edward smiled, toothy, confident, the cocky smile she needed to see. “I’ll see you soon.” Turning abruptly, he started walking down that corridor, toward the ring, and his future.
X X X