The Seed of the Fire- Chapter 10: "A Letter Never Written" (Mustang x Hughes)
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: A Letter Never Written (The Seed of the Fire- Chapter 10)
Author: SeaweedOtter
Pairing: Roy Mustang x Maes Hughes
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: AU, Set before the anime started, while Maes and Roy were roommates at the military academy.
Author Note: The story is going to start following a bit more of the manga, although it may have elements of both later.
Summary: The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that there is nowhere else to go.
Read all of the chapters so far HERE!
Roy put his heart into his training, even harder than before. The harder he worked, the more tired he was at the end of the day, and the more likely he was to fall asleep fast, so he didn't have time to play that afternoon with Maes over and over inside his head. The entirety of the conversation was burnt into his brain like the fire that danced at his fingertips.
"Goodbye, Roy. Good luck with your training." That was the last thing that Maes had said him before they parted ways. They both had known that they had to be just friends when others were around, but what he had said was so cold and uncaring. It had frozen Roy to his very soul.
A week passed, then a month. No letters came from Maes. No word on when his next leave time was. Roy sent letters to his friend, friendly ones in case they were being read before delivery. But there was never a reply. Another month passed, and another round of leave came and gone, but Roy stayed on the base and engrossed himself in his alchemy textbooks, devouring them like a starving man to a crumb of bread.
Even the few people that he would have almost considered friends steered clear of him after a while. He had grown surly and short-tempered seemingly overnight. When he had first gotten back, a few people had dared to ask him about his sudden change in temperament, even going as far as to jokingly ask if it was a girl who stood him up. One man had gotten away with only having his clothes gently charred, and General Gumman had saved Roy from a court martial.
It didn't take long for word to spread that Roy was a dangerous man to be avoided, and he personally didn't really care if that was the reputation that he was given. It suited him fine. At least people didn't try to bother him when he was trying to study anymore.
One early afternoon at the mess hall, Roy had the unfortunate honor of find the last seat available next to Armstrong. He seriously considered skipping what appeared to be some sort of beef on toast, but a rumble from his stomach quelled that thought, and with a resigned sigh, he sat down.
"Hello, Major Mustang." Armstrong's gruff voice cut through the cacophony of the lunch hall.
Roy kept his eyes focused down on his tray, iddly poking at it with a fork. He made a noncommittal grunt in the much larger man's general direction.
"Sir- I, and some other friends of yours are worried. You are so quiet. All you do is study if we aren't training, and you hardly eat. You were a light eater before, but you barely touch your food now. Your uniform is hanging off of you. You have lost a lot of weight, you are short tempered, and you don't seem to care about anything or anyone. I know other people notice it too. What is wrong, sir?"
Roy sighed and lifted his head. His eyes looked even darker than usual, dull and lifeless, sunk into his head. His cheeks were gaunt. "You don't have to call me sir, Armstrong. I am a major, just like you. And... nothing is wrong. Believe me, the less you, or anyone else knows, the better."
Armstrong put a giant hand on Roy's shoulder. "Please, sir. I wish you would talk to someone, even if it isn't me. There are councilors.."
"I dont NEED a councilor!" Roy roared, silencing all of the conversations around him. "I.. just need my space." Roy looked back at his still untouched food. "Now, if you will excuse me, I don't feel hungry." He got up and took his uneaten tray of food to the trash.
Armstrong just sighed. "You never are, sir. You never are."
_______________________________________________________________________
Training continued at a breakneck pace at the other camp as well. Maes was faring about as badly as Roy. His appetite waned, and he spent less time talking to people and more time practicing with his throwing knives, which he had become quite proficient at- to the amazement of most of the soldiers and instructors.
His friends noticed that he was a lot more serious all the time was well. Gone was the joker that always kept them in stitches when the training was the roughest. They tried to talk to him about it, but were given only silence, and soon they too gave the man his space.
Late at night, with only a small gas lamp to illuminate the space around him, he had tried to respond to Roy's letters several times, but no matter how he tried, they always came out wrong, full of hurt and anger. He already felt bad enough at how he had left Roy, and he didn't want to make the man feel any worse.
Maes wasn't even sure why he had reacted to vehemently to what had obviously been harmless. Yeah, maybe Roy had been flirting a little bit, but it was good for keeping up appearances in public, and besides, Roy had been right. Maes knew the person that Roy would come back to.
Didn't he?
Why did he even have that lingering doubt? Roy had never given him any reason at all to think that he would even want to see anyone else. Of course, who knows what had been happening since they were separated into different camps? They were co-ed, though classes were seperated. Maybe he had found himself a nice girl, or hell, even a nice guy- some alchemist that was more like him, a handsome, strapping man who had similar interests and desires.
As long as they had been roommates, they had spoken little about their aspirations and interests outside of the military. How well did he really know his man who he called his lover? Was there someone out there that knew him better?
Maes sighed, blew out the lamp, and for the 5th night in a row, put down the pen and paper on his nightstand, with only two words written.
'Dear Roy'
_________________________________________________________________________________
Spring gave way to summer, and summer gradually faded into the fall. The training came to an end, and it was time for assignments to come through. On the last day of training, the new recruits received their orders. For most, it was a foregone conclusion. The war in the East had only escalated, and there had been rumors for many months that alchemists, as well as foot soldiers were going to be sent to the front lines.
Although it was not a surprise in the least, Roy's heart sunk just a little when he read the words "Ishbal Front Lines" on the front of his order papers. "I guess that is where I am doomed to die, alone in a ditch in the God-forsaken desert, alone and helpless." he mumbled to himself. "I just hope that Maes was spared from going to that hell hole. I don't care if I die, but anyone hurts him, I will see to it that not a man is left standing." He had meant every word of it.
__________________________________________________________________________________
A couple of days later found Roy back in Central, in a small apartment that General Grumman kept for visiting guests. The train for Ishbal was leaving from Central in a few days, and there was little to do but wait. Roy kept busy reading his alchemy texts and trying not to wonder what Maes was doing.
Roy almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the lock on the front door moving, awakening him from the nap that he had been taking on top of the alchemy book he had been attempting to read. It was second nature to him by now. He had already reached into his side pocket and put on his white glove with the salamander array, his finger poised to snap in an instant at whomever came through the door.
The door handle turned, agonizingly slow, and a long, angular head with a shock of wild black hair and a pair of glasses came into view.
"Maes?"
Title: A Letter Never Written (The Seed of the Fire- Chapter 10)
Author: SeaweedOtter
Pairing: Roy Mustang x Maes Hughes
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: AU, Set before the anime started, while Maes and Roy were roommates at the military academy.
Author Note: The story is going to start following a bit more of the manga, although it may have elements of both later.
Summary: The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that there is nowhere else to go.
Read all of the chapters so far HERE!
Roy put his heart into his training, even harder than before. The harder he worked, the more tired he was at the end of the day, and the more likely he was to fall asleep fast, so he didn't have time to play that afternoon with Maes over and over inside his head. The entirety of the conversation was burnt into his brain like the fire that danced at his fingertips.
"Goodbye, Roy. Good luck with your training." That was the last thing that Maes had said him before they parted ways. They both had known that they had to be just friends when others were around, but what he had said was so cold and uncaring. It had frozen Roy to his very soul.
A week passed, then a month. No letters came from Maes. No word on when his next leave time was. Roy sent letters to his friend, friendly ones in case they were being read before delivery. But there was never a reply. Another month passed, and another round of leave came and gone, but Roy stayed on the base and engrossed himself in his alchemy textbooks, devouring them like a starving man to a crumb of bread.
Even the few people that he would have almost considered friends steered clear of him after a while. He had grown surly and short-tempered seemingly overnight. When he had first gotten back, a few people had dared to ask him about his sudden change in temperament, even going as far as to jokingly ask if it was a girl who stood him up. One man had gotten away with only having his clothes gently charred, and General Gumman had saved Roy from a court martial.
It didn't take long for word to spread that Roy was a dangerous man to be avoided, and he personally didn't really care if that was the reputation that he was given. It suited him fine. At least people didn't try to bother him when he was trying to study anymore.
One early afternoon at the mess hall, Roy had the unfortunate honor of find the last seat available next to Armstrong. He seriously considered skipping what appeared to be some sort of beef on toast, but a rumble from his stomach quelled that thought, and with a resigned sigh, he sat down.
"Hello, Major Mustang." Armstrong's gruff voice cut through the cacophony of the lunch hall.
Roy kept his eyes focused down on his tray, iddly poking at it with a fork. He made a noncommittal grunt in the much larger man's general direction.
"Sir- I, and some other friends of yours are worried. You are so quiet. All you do is study if we aren't training, and you hardly eat. You were a light eater before, but you barely touch your food now. Your uniform is hanging off of you. You have lost a lot of weight, you are short tempered, and you don't seem to care about anything or anyone. I know other people notice it too. What is wrong, sir?"
Roy sighed and lifted his head. His eyes looked even darker than usual, dull and lifeless, sunk into his head. His cheeks were gaunt. "You don't have to call me sir, Armstrong. I am a major, just like you. And... nothing is wrong. Believe me, the less you, or anyone else knows, the better."
Armstrong put a giant hand on Roy's shoulder. "Please, sir. I wish you would talk to someone, even if it isn't me. There are councilors.."
"I dont NEED a councilor!" Roy roared, silencing all of the conversations around him. "I.. just need my space." Roy looked back at his still untouched food. "Now, if you will excuse me, I don't feel hungry." He got up and took his uneaten tray of food to the trash.
Armstrong just sighed. "You never are, sir. You never are."
_______________________________________________________________________
Training continued at a breakneck pace at the other camp as well. Maes was faring about as badly as Roy. His appetite waned, and he spent less time talking to people and more time practicing with his throwing knives, which he had become quite proficient at- to the amazement of most of the soldiers and instructors.
His friends noticed that he was a lot more serious all the time was well. Gone was the joker that always kept them in stitches when the training was the roughest. They tried to talk to him about it, but were given only silence, and soon they too gave the man his space.
Late at night, with only a small gas lamp to illuminate the space around him, he had tried to respond to Roy's letters several times, but no matter how he tried, they always came out wrong, full of hurt and anger. He already felt bad enough at how he had left Roy, and he didn't want to make the man feel any worse.
Maes wasn't even sure why he had reacted to vehemently to what had obviously been harmless. Yeah, maybe Roy had been flirting a little bit, but it was good for keeping up appearances in public, and besides, Roy had been right. Maes knew the person that Roy would come back to.
Didn't he?
Why did he even have that lingering doubt? Roy had never given him any reason at all to think that he would even want to see anyone else. Of course, who knows what had been happening since they were separated into different camps? They were co-ed, though classes were seperated. Maybe he had found himself a nice girl, or hell, even a nice guy- some alchemist that was more like him, a handsome, strapping man who had similar interests and desires.
As long as they had been roommates, they had spoken little about their aspirations and interests outside of the military. How well did he really know his man who he called his lover? Was there someone out there that knew him better?
Maes sighed, blew out the lamp, and for the 5th night in a row, put down the pen and paper on his nightstand, with only two words written.
'Dear Roy'
_________________________________________________________________________________
Spring gave way to summer, and summer gradually faded into the fall. The training came to an end, and it was time for assignments to come through. On the last day of training, the new recruits received their orders. For most, it was a foregone conclusion. The war in the East had only escalated, and there had been rumors for many months that alchemists, as well as foot soldiers were going to be sent to the front lines.
Although it was not a surprise in the least, Roy's heart sunk just a little when he read the words "Ishbal Front Lines" on the front of his order papers. "I guess that is where I am doomed to die, alone in a ditch in the God-forsaken desert, alone and helpless." he mumbled to himself. "I just hope that Maes was spared from going to that hell hole. I don't care if I die, but anyone hurts him, I will see to it that not a man is left standing." He had meant every word of it.
__________________________________________________________________________________
A couple of days later found Roy back in Central, in a small apartment that General Grumman kept for visiting guests. The train for Ishbal was leaving from Central in a few days, and there was little to do but wait. Roy kept busy reading his alchemy texts and trying not to wonder what Maes was doing.
Roy almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the lock on the front door moving, awakening him from the nap that he had been taking on top of the alchemy book he had been attempting to read. It was second nature to him by now. He had already reached into his side pocket and put on his white glove with the salamander array, his finger poised to snap in an instant at whomever came through the door.
The door handle turned, agonizingly slow, and a long, angular head with a shock of wild black hair and a pair of glasses came into view.
"Maes?"