Jennifer Darknight (inuyashanohime) wrote in jen_fics,
Jennifer Darknight
inuyashanohime
jen_fics

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Fic: "To Find Shamballa", Chapter Six Part One

 Title: To Find Shamballa
Pairing: Edward Elric x Alfons Heiderich
Side Pairings: Alphonse Elric x Winry Rockbell, Roy Mustang x Sheska, onesided Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye
Rating: G-NC-17
Summary: Alfons Heiderich had gone to Transylvania to pursue his passion, and maybe find a way to help save his tattered country. Little did he know that he would find Edward Elric. 
Thanks: To everyone who has taken the time to read, speak to me about, and beta this story! Without all of you, I would not even have half the confidence I do now about this story, or as much of the drive to keep this monster of a story going! I can't thank you guys enough!!!
Note: This is the remake of the entire Movie arc. This is heavy DIVERGENCE. This is EXTREME DIVERGENCE. DIVERGENCE WITH A CAPITAL DIVERGENCE xD This will also be posted on Fanfiction.net, but that is the cut version of this story. The complete unedited version is LJ only.
Note 2: These chapters get longer and longer!!! This one is 4046 words...and I was the one who gave this the long, drawn-out beta. As well as wrote this thing in an all-night writing session. I worked my ass off on it, and I really like how this one turned out, so...I hope you guys like it!! ^^

Prologue    Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
 

---
Transylvania, 1921
---
 
                “Alfons…how the hell do you know about this?”
                Alfons was shaking. Shaking, wide-eyed…like some cat was caught in the headlights of a speeding car, or maybe like a poor little kid when they find out that their parents are getting a divorce. Something like that. Something awful…something akin to shock…
                Frightened.
                Cornered.
                He probably shouldn’t have been towering over Alfons as much as he was.
                But at the moment he really couldn’t find himself giving much of a damn about the idea.
                He had stared at him…watched him…mentioned things offhandedly that had to do with his past even though he wasn’t part of his past and he had no real ability to know these things…slept next to him, worked with him, talked to him jovially and played translator for him when he needed help (even when he didn’t want it, dammit)…he didn’t trust him at all, but he was right next to him. With him the whole time.
                He could have watched him.
                He could have investigated his weird behavior.
                At least investigated it sooner…
                And yet…
                He found this.
                The array was well-drawn, straight-forward and precise, like he had been doing it for years. The equivalent of what Edward would have seen on Colonel Mustang’s gloves…The circle had no notches in it, no strange curves, and each individual line was perfect, almost like it was done with a straight-edge.
                But the question was how the hell Alfons Heiderich knew about it.
                How the hell Alfons Heiderich, rocket scientist and boy wonder and goddamn Alphonse Elric clone, knew about alchemy.
                His Alchemy.
                Alchemy was defunct on this side…a pseudo-science. All the books had said so, all the professors had said so. Hell, even his Dad had said so, may the bastard rot in Hell. It was fueled by the dead spirits of this side, transformed into energy for transmutations…
                The arrays…the science…the physics…everything was for naught, and impossible to teach or get anyone on this side to understand.
                And yet Alfons, he…
                “Ah…E-Edward…” Alfons was backing up on his hands and feet, backwards-crawling, almost.
                His eyes were so wide…
                And his expression was so shocked.
                I’ll bet you were shocked, you bastard. What else are you hiding?
                “I…” he was almost whispering, moving to stand on his feet. “I can explain…”
                “Then explain.”
                “I…ah…”
                He wasn’t saying anything. Simply sitting on the floor, staring at him with wide blue eyes…like Edward was going to raise a hand to him if he did anything that wasn’t to his liking. Or even worse, that he was about to get killed.
                Fear.
                That was clear enough.
                Alfons backed away a bit more.
                “Well?” Ed took a step closer. “Didn’t you say you could explain?”
                “Ah…it’s…a…long story.”
                I bet it is.
                “I’m not sure…if you’d be willing to listen to me tell it.”
                “We have all night.”
                “Ah…w-well, I…I just…”
                “Just what?”
                Alfons let out a sigh; a soft sigh, and one that Edward was sure, in the back of his mind, that he had been holding in for a long time. Blue eyes had lowered (silver, they were supposed to be silver, dammit), and he had even brought himself to turn away, glancing down towards the floor.
                “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, Edward…”
               
                                                                *                              *                              *
 
---
Transylvania, 1921
---
 
 
                Edward didn’t seem to be fazed by it, even when Alfons looked up. His eyes were still hard…impossibly hard, and gold, staring at him with an intensity that made him want to stand up and bolt, locking the closet door as he proceeded to hide in it for the rest of his existence, never to see humanity again in fear of what the man would do to him once he did. His prosthetic fist kept clenching and unclenching, and his mouth was formed in a tight, straight line.
                A tight straight line that didn’t foretell any sort of mercy for Alfons.
                Not that he would have expected anything less from Edward Elric…not in a situation like this. Not when he, who shouldn’t have known anything at all about this, in fact knew too damn much about the subject for it to even be healthy or normal.
                Oh yes.
                Alfons Heiderich had to be pretty damn suspicious in his eyes.
                Especially now.
                But the chances of him even…even accepting what I have to say are so slim…He’ll be able to flatten me in no time at all, too…I’ll hardly have time to scream before I’m a bloody mass on the floor. Edward isn’t the type to go after weak, defenseless young men, but with the circumstances I’m pretty sure he’ll think of me as anything but ‘defenseless’.
                “Even if I did tell you…and you did believe me…what would it prove?” he was digging his own grave. “I can’t perform Alchemy…as you said, it’s impossible on this side. I can’t take you ho—”
                “Damn it, quit playing games with me and tell me!
                Oh God, he was going to die. Edward took a menacing step forward.
                It took all of Alfons’s willpower to not curl into a ball and weep.
                How the eyes of an Elric can bring down even the most rational of men, bring them down to their knees and turn them into shaking, crying children.
               “I’m…!” He almost lost his words…they almost got caught in the back of his throat, never to be seen again: “I’m not playing games. I’m telling the truth. If you want to know, I’ll be” petrified, frightened, unwilling “glad to tell you, but I’m certain you won’t believe me, even if I do tell you.”
                “How do you kno—“
                “I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that you would call me a liar.”
                But at the rate that Edward was going, staring him down, just glaring at him like that…it wasn’t like he was going to be giving him any other choice in the matter. Alfons was going to have to break down and just talk to him eventually, and that was the last thing he wanted. He had wanted it before…but seeing those distrusting, coldly blazing golden eyes made him start to rethink his priorities.
                Very, very quickly.
                “…I think you’re making up excuses.”
                Well, you’re right about that. I’m not denying anything.
                Edward paused, taking a breath. “…because you’re too scared to get beaten for a second time. What I want to know is why you’re still playing dumb. Why you didn’t kill me when you had the chance. You could have done it a long time ago…God knows you tried your best to get me to figure it out.”
                Wait, wait, wait, WHAT?!
                “But now you’re not attacking me. Maybe you’ve really weakened on this side. After all…Homunculi aren’t natural to this side…your powers aren’t meant to really work here.”
                Homunculi—
                Wait.
                God.
                Oh God no.
                Edward wasn’t implying what he thought he was implying, was he?! That he was a…
                “Maybe that’s why you made that lame-ass copy, instead of making the real thing. Thought you would trick me with that appearance—you look just like Al, but at the same time you look different enough for me to be thrown off. I must say, you’re getting sloppy.”
                Wait, wait wait. He thinks I’m a…
                Alfons had to resist the heavy urge to laugh.
                A Homunculus. He thinks I’m a Homunculus. And not just any one—that shapeshifting one, the cowardly one who had to rely on using others’ forms in order for him to get the upper hand. What was his name, anyway—I can’t seem to remember which one he was—
                His body started to shake; softly at first…just light trembles…until his entire form turned into a great rumble, his already fallen body now hunching over, arms over his stomach and eyes closed and tears pouring down his face…
                It took a second for him to realize with dawning horror that he was actually laughing.
               Laughing, long and hard, with an infuriated Edward Elric over him, fists clenched and he was certainly ready to let a few punches fly. He was laughing while he could get the sense kicked out of him at any time. He was laughing when this certainly wasn’t the right situation to laugh.
                “What the hell?!” He could hear Edward snarl. “What’s so funny?!”
                Oh Lord, he was going to die. He had enough time to do his final prayers before Edward sent him into oblivion with his fists, feet, body…his skinny body wouldn’t take many of Edward’s hits before it was down for the count and gone, faster than one can even blink.
                But for the love of God, his mouth had started to run away with him in-between chuckles…it was like his mind and body were two separate entities, running away from each other—
                He was screwed.
                “Edward…you…you seriously think I’m…I’m a…Oh God…hahahaha!!”
                He knew that he was going to die. He knew that Edward was going to pull back a fist and hit him, hard, if this kept up. He knew it but he couldn’t bring himself to stop laughing.
                It was all just so damn ironic.
                “Here I am…thinking that you’re…some figment of my imagination coming out of my dreams, and you…accuse me of not even being human, of being the one who isn’t real…”  
                His laughter had started to fade…the voice that had once been so loud lowered and fell to a dull chuckle. He closed his eyes, unable to look up at the man he was sure was fuming at him, fuming and ready to beat him into the ground for the nonsense he was most likely spouting out.
                “I’ve dreamt about you long enough…Maybe all of this is just a dream. I’ll wake up, over my blueprints…”
                It was like Edward wasn’t even there. What was he doing? He was just babbling to himself now.
                “And realize that the dreams I had about the Fullmetal Alchemist are just that…dreams. Nothing to be embarrassed…much less frightened about.”
                Who am I trying to persuade with this? Me, or him?  
                “Dreams?”
                He almost didn’t hear Edward speak, not over the blood rushing in his ears or his heart racing. The edge was still there, but it was soft—so soft that Alfons’s mind didn’t register it at first.
                Alfons’s eyes opened, but now they stared down at the floor.
                “Yeah.” He whispered. “Dreams.”
               
                “Mother…”
                Blue eyes had looked up at him, long blond hair falling down her shoulders, down her back…her face was so gentle, so sweet. Like an Angel’s—at least, that was how he had always seen it.
                “I…” Eleven-year-old Alfons shuffled a bit where he stood, unable to meet her gaze. “I had a strange dream.”
                Call him a mamma’s boy—say that he was too weak to ever fight for the sake of Germany, say that he had been better suited as a woman than a man. It didn’t matter. Nothing did, not when his mother spoke her next words:
                “What kind of dream was it, Alfons? Come on…tell me about it.”
 
                That’s right.
                She was the only one who he had told about them. Not his brother; no, he would have laughed. Not his father, either. He would have said something about how he didn’t raise a novelist, and would have been very disappointed.
                She was the only one who had ever listened to him.
 
                “If you dream about that ‘Edward’ fellow tonight…be sure to let me know how he is, all right?”
                “Of course, Mother.”
               
                Mother…damn it, what he would have given to have it be her right now. She may have humored him, but it was the best he had…she was the only one who listened. She was the only one who he would let into that. And yet here he was, facing the subject of all those dreams that had entertained her so much, even when Father and Brother went off to war when he was around thirteen, leaving them alone…He was facing him and had to tell him everything.
                But…
                “You’ll probably laugh at me. That, or I’ll look more suspicious than I already must be to you.”
                He didn’t want to do this. He had wanted to at first—but being confronted with it now…
                “If you want to know, I’ll tell you. I doubt you’ll believe me, though.”
 
 
                                        (To part 2...)

Tags: edxalfons, fma, to find shamballa
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