Fullmetal Alchemist (Sceptre of Flamel) - Separation [RoyEd]

[scriveyner]

Title: Separation
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Sceptre of Flamel
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Ed, Michale, Gabrielle
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 4890
Summary:

It was almost dark by the time Edward made his way back to the small cabin. He moved slowly, and Roy could tell even from a distance that he was in pain. He stood up quickly - Roy had been waiting for Edward to return, sitting out on the porch and watching the sun set over the tall trees that surrounded their home - and was moving toward him quickly even as Edward stumbled.

There had been a Call. Calls, as Edward had explained it, were when the angelic council met. The seven archangels did not really pal around outside of the Calls, and Edward, having inherited Sariel's station, was required to attend whenever one occurred. Roy could not claim to understand the politics of the aetheric realm; Edward did everything in his power to keep Roy separate from that life - at least for the time being. They had talked about it, and Edward was vague and obviously trying to deflect a lot of Roy's very pointed questions. He had a feeling that Edward had made some sort of bargain with the other angels in regards to Roy, but as to the nature of that deal he was still uncertain.

Edward had been gone nearly all day this time. It was not unusual for him to be gone that long where the Calls were concerned; one memorable time Edward had been gone nearly a full week. He had returned from that lengthy series of meetings pissed and frustrated and far more interested in putting his hands all over Roy than discussing the source of his aggravation.

He did not reach Edward in time to catch him; Edward's knees hit the ground and he caught himself on one arm, the other was clutched tight about his midsection. Edward was breathing raggedly, and raised his head at Roy's approach, tracking the movement and tensing for another attack. The way his body seemed to draw in on itself shot through Roy's gut like a physical blow; Edward was expecting to be hurt again.

That was when he realized Edward couldn't see him.

Roy dropped to his knees in front of Edward, grabbing his shoulders as Edward turned his face away, flinching, prepared for a blow. "Ed!"

"Roy?" Edward's voice was weak, he was trying to get to his feet but Roy's hands on his shoulders kept him down. "Roy, run."

He went slack, slumping forward into Roy's arms. Roy held him gingerly, feeling the warm blood pooling around the arm still locked tight around Edward's midsection. The woods around them had gone deathly, disturbingly quiet. Roy would not panic, he could feel Edward's heartbeat as he held him against his chest - thready and weak but still there, alive. Instead he stilled, listening for something ... anything ... in the darkened woods around them.

When there was nothing, he got up slowly, Edward gathered into his arms. He did not have the presence of mind to think about how much lighter Edward was now, even with the automail Roy had little difficulty carrying him. He moved quickly, not checking behind him until he got to the relative safety of the cabin itself.

Roy paused at the threshold of their cabin, Edward still in his arms. He could sense the eyes on him, and he half-turned to stare out into the dark woods that now loomed ominously around them.

There was no sign of the source of those eyes. Roy bristled a little, feeling fiercely protective. Edward overextended himself so much, and he would not let Roy help him. Roy slammed the heavy door shut with his foot and put Edward very gently on their bed.

Blood was crusted in Edward's hair and around his mouth. His eyes were closed, Roy could not see what damage had been done to them yet - and he was curled around his flesh arm, still clutched tight to his gut. Roy was going to need a lot of water, and clean bandages.

He brushed Edward's bangs away from his eyes, something dark and black curling in his gut. "Who did this to you, Ed?"

#

Edward hated attending the Calls. He avoided it wherever possible; Zarachiel had been handling the day-to-day duties of the Seventh Lineage for decades with no issue. It was military in its execution - after all, the angels had been conducting a war against demons for centuries.

He really could not avoid his duty this time. One of the many deals he had made with the Triumvirate was to give them regular status reports on the newly minted angel in his care. Earthborne angels were so rare that the prior one was not in any recent memory, and then two had been minted in the span of years.

On top of that, they were both Fallen Angels, one an archangel who resumed his status upon rebirth and the other who once commanded a host of demons and actively fought the Lineages. It was unprecedented.

Raphael had wanted Samael killed as an example. Edward had fought too damn hard to let that prick of an angel get his way and had accepted a two-for-one bargain. If Samael went back to his old ways, not only would Edward step aside and let the Council deal with him, he would also offer his own life in penance.

If anything, it was a win for the Third Lineage; as Raphael hated Edward nearly as much as Edward hated him. Zarachiel didn't care much for Edward either, but that was to be expected as he had taken over the Lineage when Sariel originally fell. One could not revoke archangel status once it had been granted; and a demotion was completely unexpected.

Edward would be more than happy to turn the Seventh Lineage over to Zarachiel and be done with it, but that would leave him open to attack from any rogue angels looking to make a name for themselves. Only someone utterly stupid and suicidal would attack the head of a Lineage, but there were a lot of rogue angels, both Fallen and not. And while maybe that would be an option in the future, right now Roy was too weak and Edward renouncing the Council would lead to open season on Samael's head.

So he shut up and was a good soldier. He attended the Calls when summoned. Edward dutifully gave as minimal a report on Roy's progress as he could get away with, and offered as much sarcastic commentary on the process as possible.

The war against demons had been going on since time immemorial, and would likely never end. It was a war of attrition and Edward was frankly already bored with it. He honestly had no interest in spending the rest of eternity fighting some war that wasn't even his in the first place. Edward was perfectly content to while away the years with Roy, in their little cabin in the middle of the woods and only venturing out when they needed a change of pace.

When Edward left for the Calls he always went to a certain spot - far enough away from their cabin so that if anything unpleasant followed him from the aetheric realm he would not lead them right to Roy. This time, when he arrived there someone had been waiting for him. A tall, blonde woman with piercing blue eyes. She looked a bit like Sariel had; before he had taken Edward's form as his own.

Edward was dumbfounded. They were deep in the woods, in the middle of the mountains. There was not a single village or homestead within a hundred kilmeters or more - he had checked before they had settled down here. Which meant that the woman was a demon.

Or an angel.

Either way, Edward faced her silently. He would not be cowed by either - a demon would give him a good fight, he was certain, but no angel would be foolish enough to intercept an archangel on their way to a Call issued by Michael, head of the Triumvirate.

She stared at him, silent, her ice-blue eyes terrifying in a familiar way. Edward was prepared for a fight, but not what happened next. She gave their position away intentionally, glancing past Edward, but he did not have time to move or even shout out before they had him.

Edward had gotten used to the casual power of being an Earthborne angel. His reflexes had been top-notch before he got the added boost, but his speed, his strength and endurance, all of those had been increased by the forced assumption of Sariel's mantle upon his death.

Despite all that, these people caught him off his guard. He was halfway through a turn when one took him down, catching him off balance and slamming him face-first into the rocky dirt. Edward felt the breath leave his lungs in a hurry, and he had only to get his hands under him to force himself up, to start the counter-atack -

- when the spear lanced through his side and pinned him to the ground.

Edward had been hurt, and hurt badly since he died that first time; but it was nothing compared to this. He could barely contain the howl of pain that shook him as the barbed spear shredded his side. The blood burbled in his throat and Edward clutched his arm across his gut, locked there as if his movement might cause his innards to work their way outwards.

Then the woman grabbed him by his scalp and yanked his head up. Edward snarled, hazy with pain and rage working to overtake everything else. "Who-" Edward bit out, spitting blood.

"Tell your angel buddies to stay the fuck out of our business, Earthborne," the woman said. "If you can get to them before you die."

She covered his eyes with her other hand. Edward flailed and grabbed at her arm with his automail hand as a pain unlike anything he'd felt shot through his head. It was worse even than the pain of the spear, it was unbearable.

Edward slumped forward, catching himself somehow with his automail arm, panting heavily. Everything had gone so brilliantly white that his vision hadn't restored itself yet. It was all he could do to keep himself from vomiting with pain, he could only concentrate on breathing right now to keep from passing out.

"Did you bring it, Cosmiel?"

A name. Edward blinked desperately and realized that his sight hadn't restored because it was gone. He swallowed desperately, automail fingers curled into the dirt as he tried to orient himself. Which way had he come? He couldn't teleport to the aetheric realm like this. It was hard as fuck to kill angels but it wasn't outright impossible, and Edward was gripped with the fear that if something happened to him, Roy's life too would be forfit.

"I brought two of'em," one of the men who had attacked Edward - he had the name of an angel. "One would go beserk without the other."

Suddenly that hand in his hair again, yanking his head back. Edward grunted in pain as he heard the whisper of hair falling near his ear. "You better run fast, little Earthborne - we release the chalkydri in five minutes." She let his head go and Edward nearly gagged. "They love the taste of angel flesh. I wonder what they'll think of yours?"

#

Edward had already bled through the second set of bandages by the time Roy had finished stripping him of his ruined clothes. Edward's skin was sallow, and he was breathing shallowly. Roy felt a real panic clutching at his gut - there were no signs of new skin healing along the edges of the wound. He wasn't healing like he usually did.

His eyes, too. When Roy had checked them, they were milky, and they looked so unlike Edward's fierce golden eyes that it made him sick. There did seem to be some healing there, the scabs that had formed around his eyes had already fallen off; but those wounds were secondary to the bites and the horrific gut wound.

He had no idea what to do. Roy sat on the floor beside the bed, his elbow on his knee and his forehead in hand. They were so far away from other people - he could not handle this on his own. Edward was hurt so badly. The fear that had its claws into him was so intense he could hardly breathe. What would he do if Edward died?

What did this to him?

Edward shifted a little and grunted but did not wake. Roy twisted to look at him, he was sweating against the bandages that had been put over his forehead.

The only option was other angels, but Roy had never even been to the aetheric realm. He had no clue how to get there, Edward had never bothered to explain how the whole teleporting thing worked. He could maybe fly down the mountain, it might take him a few hours to get to the nearest village that way - but it would be just a village. What good would a doctor do when the injury was not made by mortal hands?

The weirdest noise started outside the cabin - a low keening noise that Roy had never heard before. Edward made an uncomfortable sound, like he was trying to rouse from his unconsciousness. Roy got up and did something he hadn't done since they arrived at this cabin. He put on his gloves.

The warm firelight cast his shadow long into the darkness after he opened the door. There was nothing out there that he could see, although the noise did not cease.

Then, something crossed through the light like Roy had never seen before.

It was large and long, built like a wildcat but three times as big - and not mammalian but reptilian. It had a short, abbreviated snout; blunted but lethal and teeth like no animal Roy had ever encountered. He had no idea what the hell the creature was, but he knew without a doubt that it was hunting Edward.

Roy stepped out the door. He let the it shut behind him, cutting off most of the brilliant light from the cleared space around the cabin. This thing had hurt Edward. It was time for retribution.

#

Daylight crept in under the drawn curtains. Edward groaned, and twisted under Roy's arm. It was cold, he could sense the cold, and he did not want anything to do with it. He wanted to stay right here, buried half under Roy, and sleep until it warm again.

He felt Roy shift a little, warm breath across the top of his head. He made a sleepy, not-quite-awake noise and Edward sighed, lifting his head so he could rest his cheek on Roy's shoulder. Roy purred happily at the movement and rested his own cheek on the top of Edward's head. "Mornin'," Roy rumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Edward was content like this. If they moved too much out from under the large heavy quilts the biting cold of the cabin would invade. The hearth had burned down to embers over night, someone would have to go outside and drag in some fresh firewood. There were chores to be done, food to be prepared and Edward did not want a thing to do with them.

"Mornin'," he responded, unable to stifle the yawn that escaped after the word. Roy's bare chest was so warm, he slid his arm over it and sighed. They didn't usually sleep naked, it was far too cold to get up in the morning and find cold clothes to climb in to. But then again, they also didn't usually go three times in a row. He was going to be sore, but it was the best kind of sore. "How'd you sleep?"

"Wonderfully." Roy kissed the top of his head. "Dreamt of you."

Edward smiled and lifted his head. He worried about Roy, but he hadn't had the nightmares in a long time. That was definitely a good sign. "Dreamt of me, huh?" Roy's hand slid down his back under the covers and gripped his ass firmly. "Good dreams, I take it."

Roy's dark eyes were sleepy, but the blue flecks caught the dim morning light and really brought out the color. "Mm, you shoved me off a cliff." He pinched Edward's butt and Edward yelped. "Brat."

"Well, you probably deserved it," Edward snorted, smacking Roy's chest with his open hand. He sat up and let the cold air in to their nest, effectively stifling Roy's amorous intentions. Roy yelped and tried to pull Edward down on top of him.

"Cold!"

"Wuss," Edward said, trying not to let his teeth chatter. However he let Roy pull him back down and use him as a living blanket. His body was so warm. Edward tugged his chin down and kissed Roy. It was a short kiss, but it moved him enough that Edward lost all interest in getting out of the bed again.

Roy grinned at Edward. "So what are the plans for today?"

"Well, after you cook me breakfast, I have to go to the Calls," Edward reminded Roy with a groan.

"Why am I cooking breakfast, I cooked it yesterday." Roy poked Edward in the side.

"Because you," Edward wiggled his hips against Roy. "Wore my ass out, Mustang." He tucked his nose against Roy's rough cheek and smirked. "Guy who dishes it out dishes the breakfast, them's the rules."

"You and your rules."

"So what are you making me for breakfast?" Edward asked, scratching his fingers through his hair and getting them tangled in knots.

"Mm. Fish, probably. I think we used the last snared rabbit for stew." Roy stretched both of his arms out over his head. "I'll check the traps while you're gone, maybe I can snare a few more rabbits. Will you be back tonight?"

"I hope so," Edward sat up, pulling the quilt around him as he did so. Roy whimpered a little, and Edward shoved him out of the bed. "If I get stuck there a damn week working on one of Zarachiel's blasted projects again I will fucking resign my station and we'll move someplace warm."

Roy staggered out of the bed in search of pants. Edward grinned as he watched him fumble about in the morning light. "Maybe tomorrow I'll cook breakfast," he said thoughtfully.

Roy hesitated, his trousers barely up over his ass, and shot a heated look at Edward. Edward smirked in response.

#

There were two, and they were impervious to fire.

Roy stood before the front of the cabin. The pile of firewood had caught a spark, and some of the drier logs were burning merrily. It at least provided light so that Roy could see the creatures that circled him. One had caught him in the left shoulder and took a chunk of flesh with it, but he had pushed the pain aside.

They weren't completely invulnerable to the sparks. Roy had melted their eyeballs three times, but they just grew back faster. Roy had no clue what they were, or how to even think about killing them. Leonine and reptilian in nature at the same time, their long, thrashing tails came to a razor-sharp point and Roy had already lost some hair to dodging at the last moment. He would have to thank Edward for all their mornings sparring, because he would not have the reflexes now if not for those stupid, repetitive lessons.

His gloves just weren't doing the trick. The scales seemed to rebound the spark and the air around his target ignited, not his intended target. Roy gritted his teeth and realized it wasn't sweat that was running in his eye as he streaked the blood across his forehead. That damned whipping tail must have gotten him earlier.

Roy needed a bladed weapon. Edward wore his; his automail was always on him, or he could clap and create a weapon out of the elements around him. Unfortunately, Roy did not have that nifty trick at his disposal. There was a set of spears they used to fish with but they were on the other side of the cabin. These things weren't going to let him get back to the cabin again.

He cast around and then saw it, glinting in the reflected firelight from the merrily-burning pile of logs. Edward was going to kill him for igniting all of his hard work like that - if they lived through the night - but it provided him what could possibly be his salvation. The wood-chopping ax.

It was buried, blade-down, in the stump they used as a chopping block. Roy looked at the ugly creature that stood between him and that side of the house, raised his hand and snapped.

The creature let out another inhuman shriek as its eyeballs exploded into twin gouts of flame. Roy didn't waste any time as it shook its head and clawed at its face; he ran right past it. The other one was hot on his heels, he could hear the claws digging into the hard dirt behind him. Roy grabbed the ax by its handle and hefted it, turning as the second creature leaped at him.

The ax cut through the scales as if they were paper, shearing a large hunk of flesh off of the creature's side. It shrieked in pain and rolled, scrabbling away from Roy. Roy gripped the ax tight and grinned. This was a game-changer.

His grin faltered as he saw the creature's scales healing quickly, cascading down over the created wound near-instantly.

These things couldn't be killed.

He held the ax tighter. He couldn't let it end like this. He swore to himself that he would protect Edward to the best of his ability and while their roles might have reversed for the time being he was not going to let these things hurt his lover again.

The one he had injured walked past its twin, sniffing its face as if to check for the restoration of its sight, before they both turned and looked at Roy.

This was going to end very, very bloody. Roy straightened, the ax held in one hand, and extended his other, fingers poised to snap. He would go down fighting, at least.

One of the creatures twisted, suddenly, glancing behind it but the other lunged for Roy. Roy snapped and once again ignited its eyes, but being in the apex of its leap still it managed to catch him with one clawed foot in the shoulder. Roy went down hard, landing flat-out on his back.

He swung the ax in his other hand, and the creature roared in pain. With its maw gaping open Roy thrust his right hand into its mouth and snapped.

The spark traveled into the creature's gut and it roared again. Roy nearly lost his hand and then, after a moment's delay, the spark ignited and the creature's entire midsection exploded.

Roy hadn't anticipated this and threw his arm over his face - all the same he got scorched badly. There was a strange secondary pain, a flash through his temples at the explosion.

He shoved at the remaining bit of torso that still had him pinned and halfway through getting to his feet the pain in his temple reoccurred and he stumbled, landing back on his knees.

It took a few seconds for this pain to subside. It echoed through his temples and felt like a brief stab in his soul, of all things. On top of the pain from his shoulder wound and the burns caused by the explosion of the creature, it made him very ill for a few moments. Finally, Roy lifted his head and squinted, realizing that he was not alone.

The other creature lay slain as well. A dark-haired man - taller than Roy, broad-shouldered and wearing a cloak over armor that reflected the firelight - was cleaning a double-bladed sword. He looked over at Roy almost casually, and then to the door of the cabin.

The door lay open.

Roy was on his feet faster than he thought, staggering back toward the cabin. He had closed the door behind him - were there three of the beasts? What if one got to Edward-

He caught his wounded shoulder on the door and pain exploded behind his eyes. Why hadn't the wound healed yet? His thoughts were a jumbled mess but he held on to the door frame in relief when he saw that Edward lay still on the bed. He had not yet opened his eyes.

A woman sat on the edge of the bed; she had long, red hair that fell away from her head in curls. She too wore armor, golden in color. Roy realized that the armor was the same kind that he had seen Edward wear before as well - it was the armor of an archangel.

These were archangels.

She had taken her gauntlet off and had rested one hand on Edward's cheek. "Why were there chalkydri here?" she asked, without raising her eyes to Roy. Roy sensed the other archangel step into the doorway behind him and he moved away from him.

"I don't know," Roy said. "What are they?"

"They were angels, once." The man behind him spoke. His voice was flat. "Did you feel it, when they died?"

That sharp, stabbing pain. Roy looked back to the woman. "Why were they after Ed?"

"You don't know how he came to be in this state?" She looked at him finally, and Roy realized that her green eyes were narrowed in anger.

Roy was used to people hating him. It came with the territory. But at least in those cases, people hated him for the things he had done. This hatred that was directed at him now was actually for the same demon who ruined his life - but they didn't see that distinction. "No," Roy said, his voice tightly clipped. He refused to let them intimidate him. "No, I don't - he staggered back to me in that state, and those things followed not long after."

"He's been blinded," she said, as if Roy hadn't already known that. "That will heal, in time. But." Her hand hesitated on top of the bandages, brown with Edward's blood. "This was done with Sariel's own weapon."

"That's impossible," the dark-haired archangel said. "Sariel's sword hangs in the armory."

"Does it?" She looked at him sharply. "So many have been lost, Michael. Or do you still refuse to see that?"

"Is he going to die?" Roy asked, and they both looked at him.

"Why does it matter to you, Fallen?" the archangel Michael said derisively.

Roy turned to stare at him. The archangel had one milky white eye, but the other was clear and dismissive of Roy. "It matters because I love him."

The woman rose, gathering Edward's unconscious form in her arms as if he weighed nothing at all. The look that she gave Roy was considering, thoughtful - not anything like the look he was getting from Michael. "We need to take him to the healers in the aetheric realm," she said, her voice soft and considerate. "He will live, I think."

That said, she headed for the doorway, and Michael stood aside to let her pass. "Wait," Roy said, and Michael turned and gripped Roy's wounded shoulder, hard enough to nearly bring tears of pain to Roy's eyes.

"Stay here, demon-born," Michael snarled. "You will be summoned if you are needed."

Roy fell to his knees, right hand flying to his wounded shoulder when Michael released it. When he looked up both of the archangels were gone, and he was alone in the cabin.

#

Edward locked his arms around Roy's neck and Roy moved between his legs, steady, warm and solid. Roy was moving so slowly - so intentionally slow, it was driving Edward mad with the pleasure of it.

The fire in the hearth lit Roy's frame with a coat of amber, it made the sweat glisten on his skin. Edward tilted his head back and groaned as Roy kissed his jaw and his face. He was being devoured fire and all, and Edward could barely remember a time that he didn't want this; that he didn't want Roy surrounding him and inside of him and consuming by him.

"Love you," Roy breathed against his skin. "Love you, Ed, stay with me, say you'll stay with me-"

Edward captured his face with both hands, framing Roy's jaw with one warm flesh had and one cold automail hand as he laughed, breath catching with Roy's movements. "'Course I'll stay with you," Edward murmured into his mouth. "Where would I go?"