• ❁Alchemic Scars [Editing]❁ •

• ❁ Chapter 1 - The Crimson-rose Alchemist ❁ •

(The artwork above belongs to me.)

​ Chapter 1 - The Crimson-rose Alchemist.

"Look at my little Elicia!"

The sudden exclamation wakes Elleah from her momentary daydreaming. She lifts her head sharply, her neck feeling sore, and looks to see Maes Hughes dancing from side to side as he shows the other officers photos of his precious daughter, ignoring the fact all of them look unamused. Elleah lets out a large sigh, pulling herself upright in her office chair and rubbing her temple. It's not the first time she has been struck with memories such as that at work, especially when her stress runs high, but that's not to say it gets any easier when it happens. If anything it has gotten harder since she became a part of the military, having a whole collection of unsightly images to reflect on.

Elleah silently listens to the group sitting a few feet away at another table and pulls a pen from its holder before returning to writing a case report on her latest assignment. But, as the loud conversation continues she has to stop once again. Finally, she rises from her seat and the bickering between the officers and the Lieutenant Colonel ceases.

Elleah trudges over to Maes Hughes and places a hand on his shoulder before speaking.

"Yes, Hughes," she says. "We all think your daughter is lovely, adorable, sweet—all of the above. But I think we all need to get back to work." She turns her attention to the rest of the officers. "Right?"

"R-right," they chorus out, afraid to contradict her words.

In response, Maes lightly chuckles before slinging an arm over Elleah's small shoulders, pressing his dagger-like stubble into her cheek.

"Oh, lighten up Elle~!" He says, grinning goofily. "And how many times do I have to say it; call me Dad." He continues to wiggle and squeeze the life out of his adoptive daughter.

Elleah attempts to back away from the grown man's grip, but to no avail - the leading cause of this being her unwillingness to even slightly hurt him. Her cheeks grow a rosey red from the constriction of the unwanted embrace but she would be lying if she said it wasn't nice.

Eventually, she pulls herself out of the bear hug and returns to her desk. "Alright, I've had my fair share of death squeezes today," she announces. She places a hand on her chair before turning back. "I suggest you all go back to work. Who knows what Mustang will do to you if he finds you all slacking off - or Hawkeye for that matter."

The room's occupants hastily return to their workstations after this, except for Maes. Although they are quiet, small talk can still heard between the soldiers.

"And that applies to you too... Dad." Elleah sits down delicately before hearing a squeal coming from her foster father. She exhales a sigh of relief, happy to be out of that chaos.

"It's been a while since I've seen you smile," a gentle voice whispers by her ear. Elleah doesn't react to the sudden statement, having gotten used to the voice of her sister, Jackie, who now resides within an earring. She glances to the side and places a gentle finger over the accessory, hushing her talk. This ends up ineffective, but she applauds herself for trying.

"She is right, you know," another voice comes from a notebook lying flat on her desk. Her brother, Marcus, is held in this particular object and he ruffles his many pages to grab Elleah's attention. She glares down at him and attempts to snatch him up with her free hand. She unfortunately misses, while he lashes out and closes his leather-bound cover over her hand. She let out a sarcastic 'ow' and lifts her hand, Marcus still attached.

"You guys are unfair..." She mutters out.

With a satisfied hum, Marcus unlatches himself and falls to the wooden desktop, making a resounding thud that draws the attention of all occupants of the room.

Turning around in my seat, I wave everyone off with my gloved hand, giving a simple excuse. With that knowledge, the adults immediately go back to their chattering state, caring less about what is happening in my part of the room.

—

A loud knock on the large office door a half-hour later drags Elleah's attention from her papers. Lieutenant Colonel Hughs is the only other person remaining in the room so there is no one else to be disturbed by this. She glances at the entrance and watches as Colonel Mustang waltzes his way inside. He leaves the door wide open - much to Elleah's distaste - while he moves further through the room, eventually making his stop at the back of her chair.

"Did you grow up in a tent?" She snaps, not bothering to greet the man correctly. "Close the door."

"It's nice to see you too, Crimson..." He says, annoyance obvious in his tone.

"It's Crimson-rose, to you. Or do I need to grab my registration out for you again?"

With a slight glare in the female's direction, the Colonel moves off to close the door. He saunters his way back a moment later and leans down on the backing of her chair, peering over her shoulder with an intrigued gaze.

"Have you finished your paperwork yet?" He asks.

"If you are planning to ask me to do more, my answer is no," she states bluntly. "And, no, I will not escort you to anywhere you wish to go."

"No that's not—" Before the Colonel can finish another word, he is whacked over the head with a heavily bound book, clutched in the hand of none other than Mr Beard-Stubble himself. Maes drops the book on the—now unconscious—Flame Alchemist and trudges back to his desk.

Elleah rolls her eyes, flattening the pile of completed work in front of her. She looks at the thickness of it, glances at the pile of papers she is yet to complete and stands from her chair. The day has been extended and tiresome, with nonstop piles of paperwork, constant banter from the men and women of the office, and many complaints from Jackie and Marcus about various topics. Hence, it is fair to say that the work can be pushed aside for now.

"Dad," Elleah calls after stepping over Roy's body. He looks up with a fatherly gleam in his eyes. "I think it's time to go home. The rest of the paperwork can wait until tomorrow—there is minimal to do anyway."

Maes nods swiftly and drags his form over to the door with his jacket and a few papers in hand. He holds the door wide open for her daughter to use with a kind smile. She walks to the frame, thanks him for the gesture, and makes her way out of it, towards her family and home.