Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

"Aegis of Eris"

Author's Note: This chapter's title is not in reference to a song, for once. Instead, it refers to my (as of right now) only professionally published work, the urban fantasy short story "The Staircase Leading Up". If you'd like to read it, please give me a PM and I'll send over a copy. Otherwise, it's only available in an anthology by a publisher who proved to be less than professional, and I'd rather my readers not waste their money.

Special thanks again to my beta reader, and Captain of the Lust/Pride ship (the HMS Prust?) Shocotate! Her advice is always awesome, but especially important in chapters featuring my beta couple (and her OTP). She's no slouch when it comes to Envy either - check out her latest fic, "(No) Substitute". Thanks again!

Anyway, from this point on until the inevitable new version of "The Beasts of Dublith", I'll be alternating chapters, between Greed and Envy's "adventures" in Dublith, and Pride and Lust pushing the plot forward with the reminder that the rest of FMA is, in fact, still happening. Enjoy!

Chapter 4:The Staircase Leading Down

"Did you remember to brush your teeth, Selim? And you finished your homework for your tutor? Oh, and what about a bedtime story?" Mrs. Bradley fretted, as she tucked her son into bed.

"Teeth brushed, homework finished before dinner, and Father and I just read another chapter in Treasure Island." "Selim" answered, with all the sweetness he could put into his act. He put on an appropriately cute smile as Wrath's wife ruffled his hair.

"You are such a treasure, my Selim!" she gushed, and gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek.

"Victoria, dear, we really should be going," Wrath said, no doubt noticing the tiny flash of annoyance cross his older brother's face at his wife's affection, even if she was oblivious." Selim will be fine. The servants are here, and our house is right within Central Command."

"I know, it's just … Selim, you've only just come to live with us –"

"Dear, it's been almost three years."

"I know, but it feels like it was yesterday," Mrs. Bradley said with a fond look at her son. "I don't want you to think we're abandoning you just to go out for dinner …"

"And dancing!" Wrath added.

"Oh, King!" Mrs. Bradley giggled at her husband's enthusiasm, which Selim was sure was not part of Wrath's act.

"Of course not Mother. You and and Father both work so hard, you deserve to go have some fun. I'll be fine," he yawned. "I should get to sleep anyway."

"Come on, let our boy rest." Wrath tugged gently at his wife's sleeve.

Mrs. Bradley followed her husband out the door of Selim's bedroom reluctantly. "Goodnight Selim, my angel. I love you."

"Goodnight Mother …" Selim said sleepily from beneath his quilt.

He listened as hers and Wrath's footsteps faded down the hallway, as they gave last minute instructions to the night butler and the guards on duty outside the front door.

As he listened, Pride stretched, his shadows slowly uncoiled from his container and slithered throughout his room. Inky black tendrils stretched across the green carpet, tracing its embroidered Amestris dragon, over the neatly displayed plush animals and children's books Mrs. Bradley continuously gifted to him (despite his appropriately modest protests), across his school desk, piled high with advanced (but not too advanced) textbooks and schoolwork, and slowly slid up the Amestris flag-green wallpapered walls, mouths full of shiny, flat, white teeth snapping quietly in the darkness, and perfect, magenta-irised, slit-pupiled eyes flickering open. One such eye-bearing tendril rose up to his bedroom window and watched the fading taillights of Wrath's car as it drove away.

It would be at least three hours before Wrath and his wife returned, just as he had instructed his youngest brother earlier:

"I have business down below. Take your wife out on a date as soon as your duties allow. She has an annoying habit of 'checking in' on 'dear Selim' in the middle of the night. I need a few hours uninterrupted."

Wrath had just looked at him smugly from his desk as he sipped his tea. "If you want to see Lust that badly, you can just say so. No need for these games."

"My business is my own, little brother." He had used his True Voice, the voice of his shadows, for emphasis. Usually, that was more than enough to remind his brother of his place.

Wrath had simply nodded.

As much as Pride did actually somewhat enjoy his time "playing house" with Wrath and his wife – for all her fussiness, Mrs. Bradley's affection for him at least seemed genuine, well, as much as a human's could be – he had been impatient for some time to himself. Time when he did not have to put on the "Selim" performance and could spend time with someone who treated him like the over 350 year old that he was, instead of the child his container resembled. Wrath had obliged him without further complaint, of course (he knew better), and had arranged this latest outing within two days.

Two days since the awful tragedy of the First Branch of the Central Library going up in smoke.

Lust was still in Central, but would have to return to the East shortly.

Pride climbed out of his large, four-poster bed and reached into the bottom drawer of his dresser. Hidden below a layer of pajamas was the outfit he saved just for these occasions, as rare as they were: an actual pair of neat, black trousers (not boyish shorts), a starched white, button-down shirt and black jacket, with black shoes that shone like mirrors, and a magenta necktie, the same shade as both his and Lust's eyes. Although he knew full well that Lust could not care less about what he wore, as long as they got to see each other between their ever-increasing duties, he still wanted to look his best. As he changed out of his pajamas and into his chosen outfit, Pride idly wondered just why so much of Father's great, centuries-spanning Plan was only now manifesting, with the Promised Day short months away. With a shake of his head, he quickly banished such blasphemous thoughts from his mind. Father had his reasons, and The Plan was progressing exactly as it should.

It was his and his siblings' duty to keep that progression going, not to question it.

He stretched a shadow over to his dresser and picked up a comb in its tiny hand-like tendril. Giving his hair a final straightening – not a strand out of place – he smirked at his refection in the mirror over his dresser, satisfied, and stretched his shadows under his bedroom door. They trickled down the hallway, inching along along the walls. Sure enough, no servants were in this part of the Estate. A shadowy grin appeared, as Pride recalled the strained whispers from the maids and footmen, never uttered in the presence of their employers, of chittering noises, of fleeting sights, rumours of those who dared to wander the darkness of the Presidential Estate at night and were never seen or heard from again …

They were almost too terrified to use the bathroom in the servants' quarters. They would certainly never even think to disturb "sweet little Selim" while he slept.

Besides, the rumours were not completely unfounded, Pride mused, and licked his lips.

Pride slipped quietly out his bedroom door, walking with perfect, silent steps down the hall to the plain, wooden servant's staircase, a narrow structure, unlike the broad, main stairs that led up from the foyer, meant so that servants could go about their duties unnoticed. Pride crept quietly down the stairs, the wooden steps, prone to creaking, made not a sound under his light footsteps, as if the structure itself knew better than to annoy the First Homunculus.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, outside the darkened kitchen, and opened a barely visible door, revealing a storage cupboard under the stairs. Although the shelves lining the cupboard were packed with kitchen supplies, the floor was bare, wooden planks. Only a small hole in one plank revealed the floor's real purpose. With a small tug of a tendril, the trap door opened up, revealing the spiral staircase below, leading downwards into the dark.

Down to Pride's true home.

He stepped down into the abyss, his shadows quietly closing the cupboard door behind him.

The journey down to the Lair never took too long, despite how deeply below Central Father's abode was. With still relatively new, electric lamps lining the narrow, cylindrical stairwell every few metres down, Pride did not even have to worry about taking a candle with him anymore – there was always just enough light for his shadows now. Pride smiled wryly at the convenience, and formed his shadows into a disc below his container, a few wrapping snugly around his legs to stabilise him, as he pushed forward, riding the disc down the stairs much more quickly than walking downwards would take him – what had Envy called it again? "Shadow surfing", when he had used a similar way of moving on a mission once. Not that he would ever let Envy – or anyone else for that matter – see him use his shadows in such an … undignified way, just sliding down the stairs. He suppressed the urge to giggle like the child he resembled as he reached the bottom in mere minutes. Instead, he just stood up and brushed a speck of dust off his jacket shoulder.

Within a few more minutes, Pride had reached Father's "throne room". Father was, as usual, on his throne, engrossed in the book balanced on his lap. His golden eyes flickered upwards at Pride's entrance, but he said nothing. There was no need. Pride bowed briefly to his parent, but likewise said nothing, not wanting to disturb him. If Father had wanted to speak with him, he would have done so. The acknowledgement of Creator and Creation finished, Pride made his way to the opposite side of the throne room, to the door leading towards the area his siblings had claimed.

The small wing of rooms, mostly former prisoners' cells, but in one case, a natural cavern that have been discovered when one cell had "lost" its back wall, had been taken over by the homunculi long ago, each sibling, (with the exception of Wrath and Sloth) taking a room of their own. Pride briefly checked into his own, the one closest to the throne room. Like his room in the estate up above, not a thing was out of place, though he had no toys down here (with the exception of a few "souvenirs" taken from his previous acts at their conclusions), and the books arranged neatly on his shelf were far more advanced, texts on alchemy, history, politics, philosophy – no childish adventure novels here. Nothing had been touched, of course. His siblings knew better than to invade his privacy.

Across the tunnel/hall from his was the collapsed doorway, little more than a hole in the wall, that led to Envy's room, his shapeshifting sibling having pulled down most of the doorway a few decades ago in a laughable effort to keep its siblings out, leaving just a space large enough for Envy – or Pride's shadows – to slither through. Pride slid a shadow into the cavernous space, taking note that a few more of the stalactites hanging from the ceiling were broken compared to his last "visit". Just as he thought, the "room" (cave, really) was empty. The large, flat rock where Envy slept, stretched out in its giant True Form, was covered in soft quilts and blankets piled messily across it – the "bed" left "unmade" when Envy had left on its mission to Liore, and had seemingly not been touched since. Pride frowned at the mess, and at the two-metre long plush Xingese dragon that stretched across part of Envy's ledge. Why a giant reptilian monster felt the need to sleep with a plushie was something Pride would rather not dwell on, lest his middle sibling's frustrating lapses into illogic cause a twitch in his eyes (container's and shadows').

The small, cell-like room beside Envy's was likewise empty, not that Gluttony spent much time there anyway. Surprisingly, a small stack of children's books were scattered in a corner next to Gluttony's "bed" – a large pillow. Pride picked up one with a tendril curiously, and grew an eye, examining the alphabet book. On his container's face, Pride's eyebrow raised. Had Lust or Envy been trying to teach Gluttony to read? He scoffed at his siblings' waste of time.

Pride pointedly ignored another door further down the hallway, shut for the last century on the cluttered mess within, left by its former, treacherous occupant. There was no need for any homunculus to go in there ever again. Not since he had helped Envy with its "therapy" – destroying the junk that he had left behind really did wonders to help it get over how badly Gre – no, he would not even think his name. How that traitor had betrayed them all, especially poor, pathetic, emotional Envy. Pride smiled darkly at the thought of how delicious it would be when they finally did find him, and Father's righteous Justice was served.

Finally, Pride stepped in front of the door of the one sibling he actually did respect. Lust … so much had passed between them in the last 250 years since her Creation. They were so many things to each other. Teacher and student. Colleagues in fulfilling Father's Will. Caretakers of their younger siblings. Friends, confidants …

Lovers.

Just as Pride stepped forward to knock at his sister's door – the only sibling to whom he would afford such a courtesy – it opened, and he found himself gazing up into her beautiful, magenta eyes, eyes that matched his own so perfectly …

"Pride!" Lust's perfect face broke into an expression that graced her features so rarely: a pure, genuine smile. She kneeled down and enveloped Pride in a hug.

Pride nuzzled into her ebony tresses, "I missed you …" he whispered in his True Voice. He could feel his shadows pressing on the inside of his container, hardly containing his eagerness to stretch, to temporarily age up to a form where she would not have to kneel to hug him.

"Patience, my Pride. You wouldn't want to ruin your suit now, would you?" Lust breathed into his ear, her voice an excited whisper, hardly containing her Sin.

"Of course not, my Lust" Pride affirmed, and with a true smile of his own, let his sister lead him into her room.

"How do you like it?" Lust leaned back into the plush, red velvet cushions of the two-person settee positioned in the "living area" of her rather large room, the irony of the furniture's more common name, a "loveseat", not lost on Pride. Lust's room was, in truth, more like an apartment. As well as her large, comfortable bed, a big pillow placed next to it for Gluttony, Lust had her sitting area, the walls lined with shelves of books, both texts, and her collection of romance novels, her own, attached bathing room, and a sizable wardrobe and dresser filled with at least a century's worth of clothes of every fashion that had come, gone, and come again, though none anywhere near as beautiful, in Pride's opinion, as the dress Father had bestowed upon her, which now wrapped around her graceful form as surely as his shadows. Lust did have the most luxurious of all the homunculi's rooms, as she should, given her role in the Plan.

Pride balanced the saucer on his lap, on top of the intricately embroidered blanket covering his longer-than-usual legs, and brought the matching teacup up to his lips, the steaming liquid within's ruby colour barely visible against the black porcelain, inlaid with winding silver Xingese dragons. He smiled approvingly as he tasted the fruity flavour of the tea.

"It's a blend called 'summerberries'," Lust explained as she took her own seat beside him on the settee. "Hibiscus, rosehips, apple and at least three different kinds of berries. And it needs no milk, honey or sugar. I discovered it in the South, last time I checked up on the Forset front," she said as she took a sip from her own teacup.

Pride nodded. "From what I heard from Wrath, that Crest, at least, is proceeding entirely as it should. Plenty of deaths stretched over time, with a minimal amount of stupid human drama." He enjoyed the deeper timbre of his adult form's voice, so much more respectable than the child's tone his act forced him to use. From the subtle twitch of a smile at the corners of Lust's mouth as he spoke, he knew she enjoyed the change as well.

"One almost feels grateful to the Aerugans for being such comparatively rational opponents. Their focus on territory and economics is somewhat refreshing compared to the more idiotic reasons humans fight one another, like religion. "Lust said, with a sneer at the final word.

"Indeed," Pride agreed, then winced as a tremor ran through the shadows keeping his container "stretched" into his adult form. He tried to keep his container still, but a slight tinkling sound of his teacup against the saucer gave him away.

"Pride?" Lust's sultry voice was tinged with concern. She got up and put her own teacup and saucer onto a side table, and did the same with Pride's, before she sat back down next to him, placing her hands onto his bare chest.

"I'm alright," Pride said with a slight gasp.

"You're not," Lust said, her magenta eyes meeting his. "Don't keep this form on my behalf, my Pride. You've done enough, for now," she pressed her perfect, dark lips to his.

Pride reveled in the kiss, an intimacy so rare, so precious. Lust would only kiss him in this way in his adult form. After too short a time, she broke the kiss and stood up, as Pride reluctantly relaxed his shadows.

Within a few minutes, his container had rebounded back to the child's form Father had graced him with.

Pride slid off the settee with an annoyed wince as his feet once again had to drop a short ways to the floor, wrapped the blanket around his waist (trying not to trip on the now-excess fabric), and started his search for his clothing, his immaculate suit having been scattered across his sister's room in their earlier excitement. "I should have been able to hold it for longer," Pride growled with his True Voice as he found and slid on the first of his garments.

"We're just out of practice, that's all. Both of our duties have been pressing lately," Lust assured him, as she reached for her cup.

"At least all but one of the Crests are carved now, and it will not be difficult to push Briggs into violence," Pride said as he found and put on one of his socks.

"I still think we should have finished the Crests decades ago," Lust frowned slightly over the rim of her teacup.

"Father has his reasons," Pride assured her, though with a touch of sharpness in his tone.

"Do you doubt my Faith, Brother?" Lust asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Of course not," Pride found the last article of clothing – his jacket – and climbed back onto the settee next to his lover. He stretched a shadowy tendril out to the side table and retrieved his teacup. "Though our duties would be quite a bit easier if a certain brat of a State Alchemist would stop getting himself into suicidal situations."

"His commanding officer is not much better. The Flame Colonel's meddling is becoming quite tiresome. Not to mention his uselessness when it comes to anything not relating to his own, specialist alchemy or his obvious social-climbing schemes. He had that Ishvalan menace – who, I might add, had just tried to murder his subordinate – surrounded, with himself, Strong Arm, and a renowned sharpshooter in the fray, and as soon as they saw that terrorists' red eyes they let him escape." Lust said with a scoff. "Disgusting incompetence, allowing their misaimed 'guilt' over Ishval to distract them from executing him on the spot." Lust stretched her arms over her head, and her talons, letting them grow to about 30 centimetres in length, before retracting them again. "Oh how I wish that arrogant, useless Flame Colonel was not a potential Sacrifice."

"Patience, my Lust," Pride took her hand in his, and stroked one of his tendrils gently through her hair. "After the Promised Day, we shall make the Flame Colonel pay for his arrogance, together." One of his shadows, stretched across the wall of Lust's room, grew an even-toothed grin, as long as Lust was tall.

"You always know the sweetest things to say," Lust purred.

"I know Wrath was already considering transferring the Flame Colonel to Central, to better keep an eye on him. I will inform him to expedite the process. It may take a few weeks – humans and their bureaucratic nonsense – but it will be done," Pride said, and took another sip of his delightfully sweet tea.

"At least Fullmetal seems to be taking a bit of a vacation. He and his brother are here in Central. I believe they intended to find the wayward Crystal Alchemists' notes, but that obviously isn't happening now," Lust said with a proud smile.

"Strange that they would stay in Central then, but no matter," Pride remarked with a slight shrug. "Is Gluttony still in East City?"

"Yes. I was going to go retrieve him tomorrow morning," Lust squeezed his hand. "I'm glad we were able to spend some time together before then."

Pride gave a small smile, as he longed for the Promised Day, and the end the duties that separated them. "When you arrive, if Gluttony can still smell the Ishvalan, track him down and kill him. I've had enough of human incompetence in that matter."

"As have I," Lust agreed.

"Bring Gluttony back home with you afterwards. With the Flame Colonel's transfer, there will be little reason to continue to surveil that slum."

"Believe me, I've had my fill of that entire, miserable Eastern Province, especially now that the Liore Crest is Carved," Lust said. "By the way, have you or Wrath heard anything from Envy?"

"I haven't, and neither has Wrath, to my knowledge. Why?" Pride asked.

Lust got up and retrieved an opened envelope from the reading desk about a meter away from the settee. "She sent this about a week ago," she handed the envelope to Pride.

"She?" Pride raised an eyebrow at the specific pronoun.

"Envy mentioned in Liore that she wanted to be female for the next little while, to help 'erase the stench of Cornello'. I can't say I blame her. Besides, it's nice to have a sister. I have enough brothers as is."

"Father graced Envy with the genderless body of the Perfect Alchemical Being," Pride pointed out. "One would think it would be more grateful."

"Father also gave Envy the ability to choose whatever gender, or neither, that he, she or it wants. Who are we to deny that choice?" Lust countered. "But never mind that for now."

Pride gave a slight nod at his sister's valid point. He tipped the envelope in his hand, and unfolded the paper that fell out.

Dearest Sister Solaris,

I just wanted to let you know I was safe. I barely escaped from Liore on time, before those horrible riots started. I can still see the smoke from here in Posterim. Goodness, I must have seen at least 63 poor souls meet their end before I reached safety.

I will take the next train to Central in the morning. I'll be back home in a few days at most.

Your dear sister,

Diane

Pride read the sickeningly sweet letter, random little hearts and musical notes scribbled around the text, the letter "i"s dotted with stars as well. "Only sixty-three? Envy must have really wanted to get away from that town to not have killed more on its way out."

"I was surprised as well, although we both had plenty of fun while I was still there," Lust noted. "That letter was sent over a week ago. Even if Envy got delayed on the train, she could have easily just transformed into a dog and run the rest of the way home by now."

"It's Envy. It's probably just slacking off." Pride assured her. "I'll be sure to have a 'chat' with our sibling when it does finally return."

"I wish she had more focus on the rest of our work, not just on killing people. Envy would be ideal to supervise Fullmetal. When that troublesome Sacrifice and his brother do leave Central, one of us, or an actually competent pawn, should be watching him at all times, so he doesn't try to kill himself again."

"I can think of no better punishment for Envy's tardiness than that precise assignment," Pride said with a smirk. "Until Envy's return, my favourite sibling, I shall assist you myself with your duties in Central, as much as I am able." Pride closed his container's eyes. "Fullmetal and his brother are currently at that intelligence officer, what was his name again? Oh yes, Hughes', apartment, playing with that annoying child of his. I believe Wrath once expressed a desire to shove his swords through her head just to keep Hughes from badgering everyone in sight with pictures of her."

"Our youngest brother always does have the most entertaining ideas." Lust placed her now-empty teacup on the side table, and pulled Pride against her, as their conversation drifted off to lighter topics.

Pride just enjoyed his time with his Lust, and looked ever more forward to the Day when they would never have to part again.

Victoria Bradley jostled slightly against her husband's arm and blinked out of her doze as their car came to a stop. King exited the car first, and before Victoria had finished taking off her seatbelt, her ever-charming husband held her door open for her. She blushed, after so many years he's still so considerate!

"I hope you had a nice time tonight, Dear," King said as he helped her to her feet.

"As long as I'm with you, we could be getting street food from a stand, and I'd still be thrilled. Though I'm not going to complain about steak dinners and ballroom dancing." Victoria smiled.

"I hope not – even to the Führer, nights like this don't come cheap!" King said in that good-natured way of his that never failed to make her smile.

"Maybe if you finally retired, we could have more nights together?" she suggested as they reached their door. One of the guards stationed in front opened it for the First Couple as the other saluted. Victoria acknowledged both with a polite "thank you, gentlemen."

King sighed. "I wish I could, dear, but those idiots at HQ wouldn't know what to do without me. Besides, I'm not that old yet. However, I think I could do with a little more time in Central, after the Southern Inspection. Leave the gallivanting around the country to the young and stupid. Will that do, my dear?"

Victoria gave her husband a soft peck on the cheek. "For now, until I have to 'order' you on leave," she said with a smile, that King soon matched.

The First Lady took off her light fall coat and handed it to their ever-attentive night butler with another "thank you". "I'm just going to check on Selim before we settle in for the night."

King paused as Victoria climbed up the ornate, Amestrian-green carpeted staircase from the foyer. "He's probably asleep now, dear."

"I won't wake him up. You know I just like to check on our little angel, that's all." Before her husband could further frown at her 'over-protectiveness', Victoria quickly made her way down the hallway and quietly opened the door to her son's room.

"Victoria …" King began as he reached her side.

"Shhh," she placed a finger over King's moustache.

Wrapped up in his blankets like a caterpillar in its cocoon, was her little boy. Selim's eyes were closed, and he breathed lightly; he looked so angelic in his sleep that Victoria felt like her heart would burst. Never had she hoped she'd be so lucky as to have a son like her perfect, beautiful Selim. Her Pride and Joy.

King smiled, and took her hand gently. "Come on dear, let our boy rest," he echoed his sentiments from earlier that night.

Victoria sighed, closed Selim's door quietly and let her husband lead her to their own room.

She never noticed the shadowy shape, or its magenta eye blink, as the door to her room closed.

Author's Note: The tea Lust and Pride drink is a real blend, Tetley's Summerberries herbal tea - one of my favourites (and I really wish they'd pay me for the endorsement!)