Chapter 113... in which Anna plots with a Prince...

Anna pushed the pin through the gear and managed once again to spear her index finger through the fleshy pad. She cursed at the stinging pain and held up her finger to inspect it. The cog was tiny and the pin was the same width as a hypodermic needle. There was no blood; there wouldn’t be until she pulled it out. She sighed and braced herself.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She turned to see Olan Vengard peering over her shoulder with a look of concern on his face.

“For the love of the overseer, don’t just pull that out!” he reprimanded her. Anna considered him. He had been in the house a week and seemed to have adapted quickly to the rhythm of the household. He rose when they did, usually wearing the cotton trousers and vest that he now wore. Then he would wait for Ingrid to appear after breakfast. They would train together for an hour, usually practicing odd slow motion exercises that were very graceful, but Anna didn’t see the point of them... until she tried them. She clumsily moved her body through the shapes and was sweating in ten minutes. Olan told her with a chuckle that the exercises were about control, not power. Practising them every day was the only way he had been able to cope with his heavy automail.

It was a shame that he was nice, rather than a princely brat. He was not living up to Anna’s expectations at all. Then again, he hadn’t had a normal noble upbringing. From what Anna could gather, he had had much more freedom than his other siblings. Because of his disability, he was not seen as a strong candidate for the succession, so his tutors hadn’t been strict with him. Anna wondered if his older siblings had resented him for his freedoms, just as he probably resented them for their higher position within the family.

He took her hand and inspected the pin.

“Hold still,” he ordered. He let go of her and took hold of the pin. He slowly drew it from her finger. Anna’s eyes widened. It hardly hurt at all—just a slight sting as the metal moved through her flesh—and then it was gone. A little trickle of blood oozed from the two puncture wounds but significantly less than she expected.

“If you pull it out quickly, you damage the flesh more,” he explained. Anna nodded. He gestured for her to go to the kitchen sink at the back of the workroom. “Wash it,” he instructed, “and then put a dressing on it.”

Anna sighed but did as she was told. Olan appeared to be one of those people who could not be idle. He always had to be doing something. Of course, with one arm he couldn’t do much, and so had taken to trying to make the mechanic and her apprentice’s jobs as easy as possible. He made them thick, Drachmaerian style tea that was almost like drinking syrup it had so much sugar in it, and insisted they take a break mid-morning, on pain of a reduction in the bonus he was thinking of paying them. He frequently joked about the danger he was putting them in, but Anna knew it worried him greatly.

Olan supervised the dressing of her finger and Anna sighed irritably. She didn’t like being babied.

“Indulge me,” he said with a disarming grin. “I’m much more annoying if I have nothing to occupy myself with.”

Anna smiled too; she could not help it. Olan looked up, as if he had heard something.

“Your boss is shouting that it’s lunch time,” he told her. Anna nodded and began to clean up her workbench. Again, Olan could not resist helping. Anna gestured to where he had to put things.

“Why do you not use your voice when I am around?” he asked suddenly.

Anna stiffened. He really was quite shrewd.

“Do you honestly think a one armed man would have the gall to ridicule a deaf girl?” he said with another friendly smile. “I know it’s hard to trust people sometimes, especially outsiders, but if we can’t even make an effort under these informal circumstances, then there is little hope for both our countries.” Anna frowned. Was she being chastised for not trusting him? He was a complete stranger. Why should she trust him?

“This is not my country,” she snapped, forgetting for a moment she was doing exactly what he wanted.

“Oh?” he asked, seemingly not offended. “Then where are you from?”

Anna realised she was letting her tongue run away with her.

“Far away,” she growled.

“How far?” he pressed, his sparkling blue eyes alight with interest. “Your newspapers never did say where you and your sister had come from.”

“Why are you so interested in us?” Anna shot back.

“The same reason everyone else is interested in you. You are an enigma,” he said with a chuckle. “I’d like to know more about you.”

“I bet you would,” Anna thought at him.

Winry stormed into the workroom.

“I SAID LUNCH IS READY!” she yelled angrily.

“Sorry,” said Olan quickly. “I was just asking Anna some questions.”

“Humph,” snorted Winry with a shrug. “Don’t bother. Not even I know where she is from. She came here with Edward, and she and Gabbie are from the place he disappeared to, though he swears Anna’s country had nothing to do with the invasion of Central.” She gave Anna a flat look. Winry had tried many times to get her to open up about her journey to Rizembool, but Anna was cautious of revealing her background, even to Winry.

Olan frowned at both of them. Anna got the feeling that he and Ingrid were not going to let the subject drop.

After lunch, Anna returned to assembling cogs. Olan vanished with Ingrid for a few hours. Anna was glad; she had had enough of him.

Later, after dinner, she picked up a pen and paper and began to compose a letter to Alphonse. She had made him a present. She had scraped the leftover droplets of melted titanium from the furnace and moulded a simple ring for him. It was meant to be for his little finger or ring finger, but the mould she had used had turned out to be a few sizes bigger than she thought. It would probably end up being a thumb ring. She did not mind, however, because her other plan for the metal had worked wonderfully.

She had passed a strong electric current through the ring, with Winry’s help. The metal was now swirled with a myriad of colours, ranging from dark blue to burnt orange. The colour would never rub off, as it was the metal itself that had been stained by the charge. Winry had been in metal geek heaven for hours after the experiment and had even tried to persuade Olan to have his automail casing undergo the same process. When he declined, she consoled herself by secretly colouring a few of the internal cogs.

Anna bent over the letter, carefully writing with the fountain pen so she did not splatter ink on the page.

“Dear Alphonse,” she began.

She felt the table vibrate and looked up; Olan had sat down next to her and seemed very interested in what she was writing. He grinned at her when she realised she was looking at him.

“Who’s Alphonse?” he asked cheekily. Anna folded up her letter; she was not continuing it with him watching.

“My boyfriend,” she replied stiffly.

“Oh,” said Olan with genuine surprise. “I knew you were close to Alphonse Elric, but I did not know you were that close.”

He smirked to himself.

“Ingrid will be most upset she did not know of this.”

He turned and gave her a searching look. “So you are apprenticed to a renowned automail mechanic, your sister is stirring up a small tornado in Central, and your boyfriend is the famous Soul-Splitting alchemist.”

He put his head on one side. “You certainly don’t keep a low profile, Anna. You are an illegal immigrant in a military dictatorship. You should be hiding under a bed somewhere, not flaunting your talents and courting the famous.”

“It is not a military dictatorship!” she retorted heatedly.

“Oh no?” he asked. “Then who is the president?” Anna opened her mouth to reply and realised she did not know. Amestris had one, and an elected government too, but all the papers seemed to report on was the military.

“I think you will find that the council of generals still govern most of what goes on in Amestris,” sighed Olan. “The government is little more than a puppet.”

“I’ve been treated with nothing but respect!” Anna snapped.

“But your sister has not,” Olan said darkly. “I heard she has been in the military’s clutches for some time.” Olan looked at the nails on his remaining hand.

“She must be very valuable to them if they let you go and live your life without an investigation.”

Anna said nothing, but she didn’t appreciate being reminded that her sister was protecting her, yet again. Was Olan deliberately trying to antagonise her? Where was he going with all these questions? Anna decided she would finish the letter in her room. She stood.

“Forgive me!” Olan said quickly, resting his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just not every day I meet someone so close to the military. I want to know as much about Amestris as possible. I want our countries to be on better terms. Now the demon Bradley is gone, I think negotiations should open between us. Both our countries have so much to offer each other.” He dropped his hand. “But I am only the third son. I do not have the power to do that...”

He looked at Anna and she saw those well-hidden ambitions burning in his eyes for just a fraction of a second.

“Well, not yet,” he laughed, and suddenly he was joking again.

“How about I make things up to you?” he said, patting her on the head. “What if I pay for an express delivery on what you want to send—or better yet, a long distance phone call?”

Anna paled at the thought of using the phone. She patted her ears.

“That won’t be a problem if you have someone to listen for you,” he said brightly. Before Anna knew it, she was standing before the phone in the hallway. Olan picked up the receiver and chatted quickly to the operator. Anna couldn’t see what he said. He put the phone down then picked it up again, long fingers adroitly dialling the number.

He spoke to several people, his lips moving rapidly. He covered the receiver when he saw Anna’s puzzled look. “HQ switchboard,” he mouthed. Anna was impressed despite herself. Olan must be silver-tongued indeed if he was already through to the switchboard. She waited five more minutes, watching “prince charming” work his magic as he was passed from one secretary to another. He smiled into the receiver as he spoke and teased and chuckled at the women he spoke to. He even told one she had a nice voice.

Anna wondered if the secretaries where passing about them so they could all take a turn to speak to the young man. Anna wondered what his voice sounded like. She was tempted to put an ear to his chest to feel if the vibrations were low. He looked like he should have a deep sort of voice as he had broad shoulders. She often wondered what Alphonse’s voice was like, and Edward’s. She barely remembered her sister’s, and that was the voice of a child, high and normally thick with anxiety. No wonder her sister worried so much. She was brought up to be a worrier. Her entire childhood had been tainted by it. Anna thought her voice must have deepened slightly, but a high voice would suit her sister’s volatile personality.

Anna realised she was daydreaming and jumped when Olan’s fingers wiggled before her eyes.

“All done,” he said cheerfully. “Major Elric will be instructed to call this number as soon as he is free from duty in two hours.”

Anna did not know what to say. She looked at him blankly.

“Don’t worry,” he said with yet another smile. “I’ll be here to help you and Winry will be playing with her furnaces again, so she will not be around to tease you.” He turned and picked up the phone again. “I’ll get Ingrid to come over and get that lovely ring you made sent to Major Elric by express. He should have it by the end of the week.” Olan dialled the number. “If you people had airships, it would have been with him in a day,” he grumbled.

Anna yet again resented the insinuation that she was a primitive.

“If you people had jets, it would have been with him in minutes,” she snorted.

“What’s a jet?” Olan asked. Anna took great delight in smiling in what she hoped was an enigmatic way and left him to talk to his aid.

Ingrid arrived a short while later with a pretty wooden box, lined with velvet to put the ring in.

“It’s very beautiful,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sure he will love it.” Anna blushed slightly at the praise.

“So, what is the occasion? Is it his birthday?” Ingrid asked.

“No,” said Anna brightly. “It’s a “cheer up” present. The last mission was hard on all of us...” She sighed, her face dropping. “And now he’s stuck in a city he doesn’t like, doing a job he doesn’t like...” She trailed off.

“And he doesn’t have you,” Ingrid finished for her. Anna chuckled; the woman certainly knew how to read people.

“He’s an alchemist, isn’t he?” asked Ingrid as she wrapped up the box.

“Yes,” replied Anna warily. “You don’t like them in Drachma, do you?”

“It’s not a dislike,” corrected Ingrid. “We just have our own way of doing things. We have scientists that research and discover without using external power. We see alchemists as misguided. They trivialise the power they wield by shackling it in scientific principle and then bending it to their will.”

Anna blinked, not understanding.

“So you have alchemists?” she asked, struggling with the concept. “They just don’t research?”

“I am saying we do things differently,” said Ingrid, writing the address on the small brown paper package she had wrapped.

“Bradley could not understand it, so that is why he could not invade us.” Ingrid leaned forward and spoke close to Anna’s face. Anna thought she might be whispering. “Because we have people who understand the nature of the gate far better than any alchemist, and can cut them off from their source of power.”

She straightened and nodded to Anna before gliding out of the room. Ingrid did not have a clumsy bone in her body.

Anna decided she was in over her head. While Olan’s motives were no doubt pure—he really was here to get a new arm—there was more going on under the surface. Olan wanted to be overseer, she was certain of that. He was going to try and improve relations with Amestris as a way to show he had the skills to govern. Was getting his arm made here a form of spying? Find out the country’s problems, then make the diplomats an offer they could not refuse?

She was sure his interest in Gabriella was not merely idle either. How did she fit into all this? Anna decided to blow all of her savings on a telegram at her earliest opportunity. Her sister should at least have a warning that she could be about to be a pawn in international negotiations.

She sat down to try and do some work, but her attention wandered. She nearly stabbed herself with a cog pin again.

Suddenly, a red light flashed on the wall. The phone was ringing. She got up, nearly tripping over her chair in the process. Olan was already by the phone, grinning hugely.

“Well, answer it!” he encouraged. Anna’s heart was in her mouth as she picked up the receiver. She had never used a phone before! Well she had sent text messages on her mobile, but never spoken into one. There was no point!

She pulled herself together. She had faced Envy with less fear than she had for the stupid bit of plastic in her hand. Olan sighed and put the earpiece to his ear and the mouthpiece at her mouth. He had to bend awkwardly to do it, but he seemed happy to oblige her. His corn silk hair was tickling her face and they were seriously invading each other’s personal space standing so close... but Anna found she did not mind.

“He is asking who is there,” said Olan. “He sounds a bit worried.”

“Al-Alphonse...” Anna stammered into the phone.

Anna could feel the phone shudder and vibrate as Alphonse responded. Olan had to hold his head away from the earpiece.

“He thinks you’re in trouble,” he said quickly.

“NO!” Anna half-shrieked. “I have someone here to listen for me. He is telling me what you say. My sister sent a telegram. She said you weren’t happy. I was worried about you... I’m sending you a present too!” She barely paused for breath.

Olan smiled at her.

“Slow down,” he mouthed. She nodded, her heart hammering. “He says he is going to murder your sister,” Olan chuckled. Anna grinned.

The conversation that followed lasted about twenty minutes. Alphonse told her what was happening in Central. He chatted about the medals they had received but also about more trivial things, like why he despised guard duty and thought he was getting a cold from having PT in the rain every morning. He talked about his brother being headhunted by the research department and Gabbie’s reaction to his less than gentle training methods. Anna laughed at that; she could just imagine her sister’s face as Edward seemingly bullied the recruits.

Anna told him about their latest patient—not too much, she knew someone in the military would monitor the calls—a foreigner who wanted a refit and he was kind enough to be her ears. In fact, it was his idea. Al wanted to thank Olan and spoke to him briefly. Anna winced as Olan introduced himself with a false name. She understood why he did, but she didn’t like lying to Al. She also realised that getting word to Gabbie would be harder than she thought. Telegrams could be read by anyone. She could not expose Olan, even if he was not telling her everything.

Al told her regretfully that he had to go. He had to get some dinner and then a few hours sleep before he had to put on a demonstration for the research department. His soul shifting and animation abilities were in high demand. Anna wished him well and said she missed him. Al boldly told her he loved her, even though he knew Olan had to say it for him, which the young man did, a big grin spreading over his face.

She said the same with only a slight stutter in her voice. He also cheekily reminded her she was technically engaged to him. She knew he was doing it so Olan knew exactly how off the market she was. Boys could be so stupid.

She sighed happily when she put the phone down. Never mind Al. The phone call had cheered her up. She beamed at Olan.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You are most welcome,” he said with a wink and a florid bow. “I take it I am forgiven for interrogating you. It’s my job to ask questions and find out information. I’ve been interrogating people since I was six.”

“I was playing with dolls when I was six,” chuckled Anna. “Didn’t you play in-between interrogations?”

“Not much,” replied Olan, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. “There was too much to learn. I had missed much.”

Anna felt sorry for him. There were downsides in being born to privilege.

Olan turned, muttering something about a pre-bedtime snack. Anna watched his one armed profile move into the kitchen and suddenly had an idea. He might refuse, but she was sure he would be able to help her, if he was willing.

“Olan?” she called out. He came back through to the hallway.

“Yes?” he asked, his face blank.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how I could get a secure message to my sister, would you?” she blurted out.

He was silent for a moment and the blue eyes regarded her critically. Anna knew she was being re-evaluated. Then the smile was back but it did not quite touch the icy blue eyes.

“Are you going to be telling tales on me to your sister, Anna?” he asked, still grinning. Anna fiddled with her nails. She knew Olan was under no obligation to help her. In fact, it might be worth his while to keep Gabriella ignorant of his existence.

“I think she should know that you’re here and asking questions about her and myself.”

She looked at her feet and sighed.

“I’m not stupid. I know you’re planning something. I just want to be fair to my sister.”

Olan raised his almost invisible eyebrows.

“Your sister does interest me,” he admitted at last. “And I can send a secure message to her via the junior Cretaen ambassador, who is sharing a bathroom with her on the sixth floor, corridor eleven, in the west wing of Central HQ.”

Anna’s mouth dropped open. Not even she knew exactly where in the HQ Gabbie was staying.

“Ingrid has ears everywhere,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink. He moved forward and stood before her.

“Here is what I propose,” he said formally. “You write a letter, giving your sister a friendly warning and as much information as you see fit on me and Ingrid. I will get it to your sister without it falling into military hands or any editing from myself; you have my word on that. You need not fear. No one will know of you and Winry’s little act of treason.” Anna bit her lip and nodded. But she knew he would not do this out of the goodness of his heart.

“Once the letter is sent, I will expect answers to some of my questions.” He continued. Anna frowned. She was sure what he said was deliberately ambiguous. She would not agree until she knew exactly what he wanted.

“What questions precisely?” she said as lightly as she could, trying not to show that she was terrified of being tricked by him. He had been playing the politics game for decades. She was no match for him.

“I have no wish to entrap you, Anna,” he chuckled, reading her yet again. I just want you to help me.” He bent himself at the knees and waist so the ice blue eyes were at the same level as hers.

“I want to know where you two come from. I want to know exactly why your sister is the military’s pet and how exactly she achieved the feats that have been splashed all over your newspapers. I am also interested in her relationship with Roy Mustang, as I believe he and I can help each other. But I can’t start negotiations from a position of ignorance. I must know more before I can make a move.”

He straightened up. “Do we have an agreement?” he asked, extending his left hand. Anna looked at the hand dubiously. She realised that she could be the first step on a path that took Olan Vengard out of obscurity and onto much greater things. She was also aware that Gabbie would be swept up in it all somewhere. Could she do this? She could almost feel fate pressing down on her shoulders. If she took his hand she could be the first spark in a chain reaction that may change the destinies of entire countries. But she was just Anna; surely nothing she did had any importance? But if that was the case, then why was her mouth dry and her palms sweaty? Why did she feel dizzy?

Olan was looking at her appraisingly again.

“You’re not wrong,” he whispered. “This first negotiation will change things. The knowledge I will glean from you will empower me to take the next step. However, you have my word that I only want to better things between my nation and its great but aggressive neighbour. The dark days are over, and I want both countries to move forward together.”

His hand shook ever so slightly; it was the only indication that he gave that he might be uneasy. Outwardly, he appeared sincere and calm.

“Will you help me, Anna?” he asked.

“What will happen to my sister?” she asked in a whisper.

“That is for her to decide,” said Olan, his eyes giving nothing away. “Once things have moved and if all has gone to plan, I want to remove her from the military—”

Anna grasped his hand firmly.

“Deal!” she gasped. After all, getting Gabbie out of Roy Mustang’s clutches could only be a good thing. However, as she watched the wolf-like smile spread over Olan’s face, she couldn’t help thinking that maybe she had just given her sibling over to someone even worse.

“Thank you, Anna,” he said softly. “Now write your letter and warn your sister about all the nasty things you think I have in store for her.”

Anna was getting rather irritated at Olan second-guessing her thoughts.

“I’ll give you a warning too,” she said just as softly. “If you don’t play fair, you will not only have me to deal with, but the most powerful man in the country too.”

“I am aware Roy Mustang is partial to her,” said Olan airily. “She is as close to a female friend as he has ever had according to reports—”

“I wasn’t talking about Mustang,” Anna interrupted, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “If you so much as harm a hair on her head, the Fullmetal Alchemist will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb. After that, he may reanimate you, just so he can kill you again.”

Olan smirked.

“I have no intention of—” But again he was interrupted.

“I mean it,” said Anna, still smiling. “He is the best alchemist there is and he has a god-awful temper.” She grinned up at the puzzled Drachmarian. “Don’t fuck with him, Olan. You will lose. No matter how intelligent you think you are or how strong you think you are... He is better than you.”

“You seem very sure about that,” said Olan frowning. “And ladies shouldn’t swear.”

“I am sure,” she said happily, ignoring being told off for her language. She realised she was very proud of Edward; almost as if he was some older brother she had put on a pedestal. Besides, it was only fair to warn Olan who he was about to start dealing with.

“He is the Fullmetal Alchemist,” she said, as if it explained everything. “He’s been to hell and back and has the ashes to prove it... Good luck trying anything sneaky on him!”

She leaned closer, enjoying bragging about the people she loved. She couldn’t help laughing at the expression on Olan’s face. He really did not know what to make of her little tirade. Did he not love his family?

“Also...” she spoke into his ear, “my sister is not a woman you want to meddle with either,” she hissed darkly.

“Anna, stop!” he ordered. He stepped back from her and sighed. “You don’t have to try and threaten me. I have no intention of harming your sister.”

“I know that,” she said with a shrug. “I’m just warning you that if you try to use the people that I love, then you might get more than you bargained for. They are by no means ordinary people.” She was suddenly serious. “I am sure you have good intentions, but that is not always enough. My sister has not had an easy time here. I don’t want you possibly making it worse.”

She copied his florid bow from earlier, then turned to clean up her workbench. She smiled to herself. She had got a bit carried away with bragging about her family, but she was sure none of them would blame her for that. She hoped she had knocked a bit of arrogance out of “prince charming” so he would not think that the people he was about to use would be easy prey to his formidable skills as a child of the overseer. Anna believed in her sister; she was strong enough to deal with anything Olan Vengard threw at her. She might even possibly gain her freedom through all this.

Anna wondered if she should tell Olan about a proverb she was fond of.

“Be careful whom you step upon on the way up,” she said to herself, “because you may meet them all again on the way back down.” Her sister had also once added, “And what goes up, must come down.”

Anna thought she should tell Roy Mustang about the proverb too. He clearly needed the advice.