CIRCUS—A FMAB AU FANFIC

A/N: Hey dee howdy ho!

I know I am in no position to start new fics, especially when my Inuyasha and CCS fics are lying in hiatus (*I apologise but I solemly promise to complete them soon*) but this idea wouldn't leave the confines of my brain unless I forced my aching fingers to type out yet another chapter. And hence presenting you CIRCUS.

This is an AU fic whose idea popped in after I watched Karneval and Kuroshitsuji: Book of Circus-circus is an amazing thing, don't you think? Their lives are so cool-living in caravans, travelling to different places etc. I was a big fan of Enid Blyton's Mr. Galliano's Circus as a kid, but sadly I haven't been able to experience one live. Here's hoping to a possibility in the future!

After all, imagination makes us travel places which reality can only dream of, right?

Summary: Ed and Al lost their mother when Ed was merely seven. Circumstances brought them to the Great Central Circus run by Mr. Bradley. But is this benign man for real? And what is Roy Mustang so desperate to hide? How exactly is the rebellion related to Ed and Al's father? And who is the one intent on murdering Riza Hawkeye? And will Roy finally embrace the real truth?

CHAPTER 01: THE CIRCUS

My mother died when I was seven. My little brother Al, he was six. I still remember the doctors telling us, the air of finality resting heavily on my shoulders. The doctor was a nice man, he had also offered us a room in his house to stay.

We lived with him for a year. Till the day mom finally left us. They said it was cancer. Cancer was supposed to be incurable in the later stages. My mother—sweet, kind, loving Mom never let us realise the agony she felt. How every breath she took felt like her throat was being rubbed with sand-paper.

My father, that bastard of a man who supplied us with fifty percent of our genes, he walked out on us a year before Mom finally collapsed and had to be admitted to the hospital. She hated to hear ill of him, loved him till her dying breath. We were never rich, but we lived. Granny Pinako often came over to help us sometimes, helped Mom with the cooking and cleaning.

I wasn't old enough to be considered a man, but I couldn't stand by and do nothing. Winry offered me to teach how to make prosthetic automail limbs—she was an expert. I tried but apparently I "didn't have the correct aptitude".

It was quite accidentally that I discovered my latent talent in sculpting. It was during our art class in school. We were being introduced to wood carving. Everyone was goofing around, but I dunno...I felt the wood talk to me.

I never realised two hours had passed by. And the plain wooden block was transformed into Den, the dog who lived with Granny Pinako and Winry.

Since then, I began to sculpt tiny figures of birds, animals, people and Granny helped me sell them. My Mom hated to see me selling what she called her "art collection" but I could see the pride in her eyes. Al, the ever competitive, realised he could draw quite well and added paintings to my sculptures. I just can't forget the way her eyes shone when we gifted our best creation to her on her birthday.

All good things always come to an end. On that fateful day, we received our school annual reports. We were very happy—both Al and I had topped our respective grades. Winry was in my grade and she was slightly put out by the fact that she lost out the top position by one measly mark.

We were happy. We didn't know it would be the last time we would be so happy.

We found Mom sprawled over the kitchen floor, unconscious. The town doctor was called but he suggested we move her to one of the big city hospitals.

We didn't have enough money to do that. Granny helped us, but I couldn't allow her to empty her savings on us. She too had Winry to look after.

But our entire town of Resembool pooled in, and soon we were ready to move Mom to the hospital.

A year passed by. But I was glad she passed away peacefully in her sleep. She deserved that much.

But we had no where to go. We had no idea where Mom's husband was, hence we were pretty much on our own. Granny tried to help us financially but she soon had her own demons knocking her door. Winry's parents were doctors who had gone to serve east where the rebellion had begun. Both of them died in the line of duty.

I decided that if we had to survive, we had to walk on our own two feet.

But it seemed like fate was intent on playing with us. Three months after Mom left us, a group of armed rebellions attacked Resembool. Our house was on the outliers of the town. Easily targetable.

We were kids. We couldn't put up a fight.

I covered up for Al, helped him climb out of the first-floor bedroom window and shimmy down the pipe. I was about to follow him when the house exploded.

I was trapped.

Agony a million times greater than the darkest, fiercest flames of purgatory shot up my right arm and left leg.

When I regained consciousness two weeks later, both of those limbs had been amputated. Al was scared, slightly bruised but to my great relief, he was okay.

I could see my brother blame himself, but I put a stop to it.

"I couldn't live if something had happened to you, Al!" I yelled in a weak voice.

Winry and Granny and other townspeople were safe—apparently the rebels were caught by the army before they could do anymore damage. I was the sole casualty.

A year passed by. I realised I couldn't accomplish anything by sitting put on a wheelchair and stare up at the sky.

I decided to try automail.

Granny and Winry were skeptical at first but my determination won them over. The surgery was...painful. The recovery...even more.

But after two years, I could stand up on my own two feet. Walk, run, jump.

I could be independent.

One day as I was buying groceries, I overheard a conversation. A lady in a white trench-coat and a scary face was bemoaning how the kids of today were such slobs both physically and mentally. I dug for more information.

That woman was Izumi Curtis. She formerly worked with a circus before retiring. Now she was a freelance lecturer at the Central University.

I had to convince her to teach us!

Al agreed to my plan and we shadowed her doorstep all day for ten days. Finally impressed by our tenacity, she took us in.

She was brutal, insanely strict but she knew her stuff. We lived with her and her husband, a large yet gentle man named Sig, in her tiny house in Dublith. Four years passed by after which she deemed us knowledgeable enough to take on the world.

I was fourteen. Al was thirteen.

Two brothers who had only each other for support.

We lacked money. And we had no where to live. Our teacher recommended us the circus she once worked for.

The Great Central Circus.

My sculpting ability, Al's painting ability and our physical prowess would easily earn us a place in it.

That's where the next chapter of my life begins.

My name is Edward Elric and this is my story.

*/*/

The horse-drawn carriage was bursting at its seams, and it was a wonder that the carriage still held its structure together. Even amidst such discomfort, a blond boy slept away. His hair was long and tied into a braid, the bangs sweeping across his forehead gently as the wind blew in through the open window. He was clad in a leather jacket and pants with a blood red cloak thrown over. Next to him was another blond kid with a shorter hair who sat wide awake, his bright amber eyes drinking in the countryside that passed by. He was clad in a white shirt and brown trousers with a brown vest which had been unbuttoned because of the heat.

"You are just sleeping, Brother. You should have let me sit near the window," the short-haired boy muttered. The other kid muttered something unintelligible in his sleep.

Sometime later, a sea of multicoloured tents appeared on the rolling hills. The kid nudged his sleeping brother awake.

"Look brother! We are here!" he exclaimed, pointing out.

The brother rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned before casting a bleary look at the scenery.

"Wow, that was fast," he remarked.

The carriage-driver opened the door, gesticulating at them to empty the carriage quickly.

"Hey you! Pipsqueak! Move it!" he barked at the long-haired blond. His brother clapped a palm to his forehead with a sigh. He knew what would happen.

And he wasn't disappointed.

"WHOM ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE HAS TO JUMP TO CLIMB UP ON THE BACK OF A BABY ANT?!" the long-haired blond yelled, attracting everyone's attention in the vicinity.

"Brother!" he said in an exasperated voice, quickly paying the flabbergasted driver and pushing his brother out of danger zone.

"Sheesh Ed! There's a place and time to blow up," he reprimanded.

The long-haired blond stared back defiantly.

"He asked for it, Al," he huffed.

Al shook his head, knowing that his brother's logic will elude him for eternity. He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, the scrap crumpled up due to travel.

"Mr. Bradley is the owner of the Great Central Circus and he knew Teacher pretty well. She said he could get us some job," Al said, reading from it.

"Okay, let's get it done before dinner," Ed added as the duo picked up their suitcases and entered the town of tents.

The place was fascinating, to say the least. There were animals, people in the most varied and weird costumes, colourful tents, scores of amazing equipment—Ed wished he had eight eyes as his head swivelled around, trying not to miss out anything.

"Gosh Al! This place is seriously amazing!" Ed exclaimed, his amber eyes shining with wonder.

"I agree, Brother. I wouldn't mind working here...I guess it would be really exciting!" Al replied, echoing his brother's sentiment.

Engaged in sightseeing, Ed didn't see someone coming up and before Al could move him away, the two bumped and landed on the grass.

"Hey! Can't you see where you are going?" Ed snapped, scrambling up on his feet. The one with whom he collided looked to be a man in his late twenties. He had jet-black hair with slanted obsidian eyes and, well, he looked sort of good. He was clad in a three piece suit complete with a tie and a kerchief and a very smug smile now played on his lips.

"Sorry kid, didn't see you coming," he shrugged as he got up gracefully like a cat.

Al just realised that today was going to be on his personal list of "DAYS THAT WENT TO HELL".

"WHO ARE CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE COULD BE TRAMPLED BY AN AMOEBA?!"

Ed yelled and was about to strangle the black-haired man until Al held him back, his arms tightly around his midriff. The man cocked his head to a side in a bemused manner before he resumed his walk to his destination.

"I am not short! And don't you dare start the milk theory!" Ed huffed as he lifted his suitcase and began marching forward. Al shook his head before following his brother.

After asking for directions a couple of times, they finally appeared in front of what looked like the biggest tent in the area. A mousy-looking woman with round spectacles ushered them inside.

Mr. Bradley was a well-built man with a rugged square face. He was clad in a black gym-vest that showed away his rippling muscles and a pair of cargoes. His black hair was neatly combed and a black eyepatch covered his left eye. A benign smile rested on his lips as he motioned the duo to seat themselves on the sofa.

"You are the Elric Brothers, aren't you?" he asked, not unkindly.

Al nodded. "Yes sir. I am Alphonse Elric and this is my older brother Edward Elric. Our teacher Izumi Curtis sent us here."

Bradley nodded. "Yeah, I know. She sent me a letter, informing me of your arrival. She told me you are skilled, yes?"

Al nodded vehemently, Ed joining in with a half-hearted dip of his head. He wanted to strangle that pompous git who walked into him so badly!

"All right. It is rare for Izumi to recommend someone so highly—I will put you to work under one of the most trusted performers here, I will listen to what he says then assign you to your permanent jobs. Consider it to be your probationary period. You have one month's time to show me what you can do." With that, Bradley motioned the mousy-looking woman towards him.

"Call him from the practice tent—tell him his new protégés are here." He said. The woman nodded and left.

*/*/

"...and then he began yelling like someone who lost his marbles. Can you believe that?"

"Are you sure you are not being melodramatic, Roy?"

"Riza, am I ever melodramatic?"

"Don't try that voice on me...I am not Alice!"

Roy Mustang couldn't help but grin at the flushed face of his best friend Riza Hawkeye. They had been together since they were children, and there was nothing one didn't know about the other. He was tall and well-built in a feline way, lending an odd but beautiful grace to his posture. The corners of his obsidian eyes often crinkled up in amusement but Riza knew that laughter never reached his eyes. Not since the day they joined the Circus.

Riza Hawkeye was shorter and strongly built, her russet eyes holding a determined look with her light blonde hair held up in a tight bun. A light fringe fell across her forehead, held by a dark blue clip—a gift from Roy on her fifteenth birthday. A year before all hell broke loose in their lives. Roy could be three years older than her but she couldn't help but feel he was worse than a three-year-old child at times.

"You jealous of Alice?" asked Roy, wiggling his eyebrows. Riza huffed, walking away to the other corner of the practice tent where the throwing knives were kept.

"Tell me Roy, do you love her?" she asked seriously.

"Love? Are you for real?" he laughed, looking completely amused. "She wasn't even a good one in bed—all she knows of seduction is to bat those broomstick eyelashes."

Riza cringed at the rather graphic description but steeled herself to say the next words nevertheless.

"Why Roy? Why are you doing this? It was not your fault...why are you blaming yourself? How long will you keep paying the price of something that was not your fault to begin with?" she said softly, looking straight into those eyes.

She felt her heartbeat spike up, her breath hitch.

Oh gods, she was falling for him, wasn't she?

Roy held her gaze, his lips slightly parted in surprise. She could see indecision clouding his eyes, the sweat on his brow, the quivering of his lips...

His lips never seemed so...attention-worthy...

They could feel each other's breaths on their faces, hear each other's heartbeats. Roy could see the frankness, the love in those russet eyes he loved so much but couldn't acknowledge.

Someone as tainted as himself wasn't allowed to sully someone as pure as her.

He stepped back, breaking the spell.

"Er...practice...gotta practice..." he muttered as he walked away, leaving a sad but smiling woman in his wake.

He tried to erase the image of those eyes from his mind, those innocent eyes filled with love and hope. He couldn't tarnish them with his own darkness—he couldn't protect him but he would protect her. This was one promise he would never break.

As he walked to the other corner, he almost ran into a mousy-looking woman.

"Hey Sheska! What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised. She was with the accounts department apart from being Bradley's personal assistant—and they rarely visited the tent that was dubbed the most dangerous all tents on the ground. Including the ones housing the lion.

"The two newcomers are here, Mr. Mustang. Mr. Bradley wants to introduce them to you," she said quickly.

Roy had a strange sense of foreboding. It couldn't be...

"Please, this way sir," she said, making her way carefully out of the tent, followed by a soundless Roy.

*/*/

Ed was twiddling his thumbs as he sat on the couch. Al and Bradley were having a polite conversation while they waited for some Roy Mustang. Someone who was going to be overseeing them.

Wonder if he's a pansy asshole, he thought.

Sometime later when Ed was about to give up on patience, the mousy-looking looking woman returned. With a surprisingly familiar man. In a three-piece suit. With a tie and a kerchief. And a smug smile. Which increased into a much wider, more evil looking smirk as he caught the sight of the duo.

"This is Roy Mustang, our Fireman. The one who gets things lit, not put out. His stage-name is Flame. Roy, these are the Elric brothers—Edward and Alphonse," said Bradley in a manner of introduction

Al gave a cautious look to his brother. Ed was seething but was keeping his temper in check. He figured it was best he got Ed out of Bradley's tent as quickly as possible.

"Hello Mr. Mustang, I am Alphonse Elric..." he began, offering his hand.

Mustang shook it with his own. "The older brother, I presume?" he smirked.

Al sighed. It was the last straw.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT YOU NEED A MICROSCOPE TO SEE HIM?!"

Ed yelled, making Mustang's smirk widen more while Al sighed again.

Life sure was not a bed of roses.

A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Review review!

Since my other FMAB fic TO BE KING is on full throttle, I guess I would be updating this one once in two weeks. So hopefully, chapter 2 will be updated sometime around 23 June.

Till next time, folks!

*/*/Nazrath/*/*