A/N: For day 7 of FMA week on tumblr.

Last one! *tired sigh*

Thank you dear guest for your reviews, you've made me smile every morning yet I can't thank you properly. You know who you are... :)

Title: Journey

Rating: PG13

Pairing: Roy/Ed

Genre: General

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The funeral was beautiful. It was sad, and flamboyant, yet not too lavish. This was how she would've wanted this: luxurious. She probably would've preferred a party with some booze over a show with an open casket for people to look and cry over, be it sincere or not, but the position did not allow this. Roy was a man of his country now, exposed to the many eyes of the public and constantly judged by them. He didn't like to think of himself as someone who is so easily manipulated, but the truth was that that was exactly who he was, ever since he was a teenager. Believing he was making everyone else do what he wanted them to do without understanding that his motives were not actually his, but society-induced, and he was merely a marionette playing within the strings. It had to be that way if he wanted to become the Fuhrer; he understood the game early in his career, and he was the best player yet.

The funeral was no more than a show for the press. Sorrowful and respectful.

The party started later, when it was already night and most journalists were already asleep, pleased with the performance and with the article they wrote about the terrible loss of the head of the country and the respectful ceremony for the woman who served as his mother, and that was probably already in printing.

Colorful and cheerful, that was how Madam Christmas would've wanted to signify her death. She would've wanted her beloved to celebrate the life she'd had, not mourn the point where it ended, because in her eyes she lived full and happy life. She said that whenever she could - she had plenty of children, though not of them biological, but she did not need that. She loved each and every one of them as her own, her girls in the club each knowing she could come to her with every problem, personal as it might be. They were not afraid to tell her they were quitting because even though Roy's aunt had never seen her profession as denouncing or unrespectable, she only wanted the best for her girls, and if one decided to leave the club she would just smile at her, gently hold her cheek and say something along the lines of, 'what a shame. You're so beautiful. This business needs girls like you," but she will then hand the girl her last paycheck, way larger than what she'd truly earned, the difference her gift to her to help her start her new life on the right side. The girls never forgot her, even after leaving: they invited her to their weddings and baby showers and still came whenever they needed an advice, which she was only happy to supply. A lot of them were at her goodbye party, telling their stories about her with a hidden tear in their pretty eyes and a laugh on their vividly painted lips.

Then there was Roy.

He was the closest to her, blood-wise, but she didn't treat him any different except for what was needed considering the difference in age and gender. He barely remembered his parents, and the bar was the only home he knew. Even after he grew up and became an officer and moved into his own place. He owed her much; much more than he'd ever thanked her for. She was the one who thought him everything he knew about the art of seduction - which was plenty, as his reputation could tell, although by now most of it was well in the past. She was the one who supported him the most when he started learning alchemy, buying him books and allowing him to practice as much as he liked - as long as he didn't neglect his chores, because no one was staying there for free and he had to learn to earn what he wanted, a skill he used well in many occasions in his adult as well as young life. She was the one to support him when he decided to enroll in the military, even when some of his friends considered that decision foolish and suicidal.

It was Aunt Chris who helped him get through the harder parts of being a soldier; never once lying to him and saying the horrors of Ishval were not his fault, she told him to use that experience to do good, practically seeding the first roots of higher aspirations inside him. Aspirations that she fully supported, although let him know the risks. She believed in him - believed he could do it, replacing the current Fuhrer - but wanted to make sure he knew what he walking into.

Roy let out a sigh. The party was long since dead. Most people have left the residential house by now, although a few of the girls got too drunk to be trusted back to the brothel on their own. The other girls offered to take care of them, but Roy refused. They were his sisters, and what kind of an older brother would he be to kick them out of the house inebriated? He helped them, half unconscious and mostly giggling and speaking nonsense, to an empty room in his house; luckily, the Fuhrer could enjoy the benefits of many guest rooms, which tonight were being put in their best use so far. When morning will come and they will wake up, he will make them breakfast and warm coffee, offering some aspirin before allowing them back home.

The house was quiet now. Dawn will soon rise, and Roy was the only one awake. Next to him on the sofa laid his lover, curled up and wrapped in a blanket Roy had put over him to keep him from getting cold. Edward refused to leave him alone in the living room, claiming proudly that he will stay awake as long as Roy did but he ended up falling asleep not an hour ago and Roy had no intention of waking him up. Absent-mindedly playing with his long, blond hair, Roy couldn't help but feel thankful for his presence, assuring even though he was fast asleep.

He owed that to his aunt, too; because she was the one who told him he was being an idiot for not admitting the feelings he had for his subordinate. It took some time but he agreed to admit that eventually. Some good years have passed since, and he couldn't be merrier that he chose to listen to her. He never thought he could be content with spending more than two months with the same person; let alone seven years. She'd been supportive all along the way, calling him an idiot when they fought over some stupid thing he'd said or done; c consoling him when the fight had been Edward's fault, but all the same urging him to swallow his stupid ego and solve v whatever it was. She was there when they decided to make their relationship official, and screw whoever thought it was wrong because they were both males or because Ed was thirteen years younger than him. All that mattered was that they were meant for each other, and there was no fiercer protector than madam Christmas. Not that either of them needed help, but it was good that someone with as much influence as she did could eavesdrop on conversations at the bar and put whoever was talking bad at their place - away from her business, with a shameful stain on their shirt from the beverage she spilled on it.

A lot have changed since; people accepted his relationship with Ed just as they accepted the fact that their current leader was years younger than the one before him - with some objections but overall indifferently.

Tired, sad and happy at the same time as he was, Roy was surprised at how nostalgic he got. The sun had already risen, its orange rays dying the skies light pink and apricot, with the first touches of blue. Soon it will be morning; the first morning without his aunt, the first morning he will truly be parentless. But he was not alone, and he was not the last survivor of his family. He had many sisters; he had a lover; and he had the entire country to raise. His journey had been long and eventful, but the person who had longest supported him was now gone, finally at peace. The other part of his journey was starting now, and he had just as good a partner to accompany him.