(the picture displayed belongs to me. Additionally to the drawing, Elleah also changes out her uniform jacket for a coat and hood at times.)
Chapter 3 - The Crimson-rose Alchemist.
Elleah: 16
"Look at my little Elicia!" Hughes exclaims, wiggling from side to side as he shows the group another photo of his precious daughter, ignoring the fact that all of them are sitting with either board or annoyed expressions.
I sigh a gust of air and continue to scribble down on the page before me.
-
About two years after my 'accident' as a child, I left to seek purpose and help to get my siblings back. Soon into that journey, I was adopted by the Lieutenant Colonel, Maes Hughes. I now live with him, his wife Gracia Hughes, and their little girl Elicia Hughes.
After spending time in the place they call home, I applied to become a state alchemist. At the age of 14, I went for my State Alchemist examination. I got the title not too long after that, earning the name of the Crimson-rose Alchemist. I am now working in Central to protect the people of Amestris and most of the world from harm.
I've become close with most occupants of my workplace. Most of them come off as lighthearted, down to earth, and ready to fight. I say most because there are still those jackasses and pompous prats lurking the halls, but those people are the ones I try to avoid.
I've grown particularly close to Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye and - surprise, surprise - Colonel Roy Mustang, who fight by my side when needed. Obviously, I don't count Maes as he is my father now, so he already tops the list.
-
I silently Listen to the cohort, sat a few feet away at another table; far apart from the usual meeting group. I sit in silence as I work and write a report on my latest assignment.
The bickering between the officers and the Lieutenant Colonel cease once I get up, having had enough of their rowdiness. The noise they are making is driving me up the wall, preventing me from focusing.
I trudge over to Maes and place a hand on his shoulder before speaking.
"Yes, Hughes," I say with a straight look. "We all think your daughter is lovely, adorable, sweet, all of the above. But I think we all need to get back to work." I turn my attention to the rest of the officers now. "Right?"
"R-right," they chorus out, afraid to contradict my words.
Maes quietly chuckles and slings an arm over my shoulder, pressing his deadly stubble on my cheek.
"Oh, lighten up Elle~!" He says with a goofy grin. "And how many times do I have to say it; call me Dad." He continues to wiggle and squeezes me tighter until my oxygen supply is substantially depleted.
I attempt to back away, out of the grown man's grip, but to no avail - the leading cause of this being that I am trying not to hurt him. My cheeks grow warm and sweaty from the constriction of this unwanted embrace. I feel a twinge at my lips. A smile.
As I scan the room for some form of escape from this death grip, I watch as the officers' faces soften just slightly at my unwanted, yet pleasant expression.
I eventually pull myself out of the bear hug of my father's arms and turn to my desk.
"Alright, I've had my fair share of death squeezes today," I announce while my head is turned. I place a hand to my chair before turning back to my father. "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 occupants of the room - besides Maes - promptly return to their workstations. Although they are quiet, I can still hear the small-talk made between the soldiers.
"And that applies to you too... Dad." I pull out the rolling chair in front of me before hearing a girlish scream coming from my foster father. I exhale a sigh of relief, happy to be out of that chaos.
"It's been a while since I've seen you smile," Jacky comments from her shell as a pearl earring.
I look to her - at least in the general direction - and place a gentle finger over the accessory, hushing her talk. She attempts to muffle out a few words but fails while trying.
"She is right, you know," Marcus intervenes as he ruffles his many pages.
I glare down at him and attempt to snatch him up with my free hand. I miss by centimetres, while he lashes out at my fingers by closing his leather-bound cover over them. I let out a monotoned 'ow' and lift my hand, my brother still attached and being dragged off the table as well.
"You guys are unfair..." I mutter out.
With a satisfied hum, Marcus unlatches himself from my fingers 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.
-
When I became a State Alchemist, I told only a select few about my tragedy and the fate befalling my two siblings. Those people being; Maes and Gracia Hughes, Roy Mustang - regrettably -, Riza Hawkeye, Gene Havoc, Maria Ross, Kain Fuery - more for support and doesn't know the details -, Heymans Breda, and Luise Armstrong. For everyone else I didn't tell, I have been trying to keep it a secret from them to the best of my abilities.
To be completely honest, out of everyone who knows, I'm not at all pleased with the fact that the Major found out. This is primarily because, not only is he weird and overly dramatic in my eyes, but because he basically forced my background information out of the Colonel. The others, I'm okay with them knowing as long as they keep quiet and don't bring it up. But Armstrong makes such a big and dramatic fuss over it, saying things such as; "How brave you are to bring back your fallen parents!", and "you have such love for your siblings that it brought you to retrieve their souls at the cost of your memories!". Both times said with no shirt on and tears streaming down his face and overly chiselled jawline.
-
A knock on the door, a half-hour later, brings my attention out of my many pieces of paperwork. The Lieutenant Colonel and I are the only ones that remain, so there is no-one else to be disturbed. I glance at the entrance and watch as Mustang waltzes his way in. He leaves the door wide open - much to my distaste - while he moves further through the room, eventually making his stop at the back of my chair.
"Did you grow up in a tent?" I snap, 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.
The little nickname he has given me comes from my Alchemist name; Crimson-rose Alchemist - as previously stated. I got the name from my Crimson-red hair, which was a result of a misfire on an alchemical experiment. The name also originates from my ability to manipulate my own blood. 'Rose' was given as an extra cherry on top, symbolising me as beautiful on the outside but hiding thorns underneath.
With a slight glare in my direction, the Colonel moves off to close the door. He saunters his way back and leans down on the backing of my chair. He peers over my shoulder with an intrigued gaze.
"Have you finished your paperwork yet?" He asks.
I take a glance at him with my poker face intact. "If you are planning to ask me out on a date, my answer is no," I state bluntly. It's known fact that he is an egotistical womaniser. But lucky for me, he knows where to draw the line in my presence.
My words take hold of my father's attention, as he swiftly looks up from his work to glare at the grown man above me.
"Unfortunately for you, no," Mustang sighs. "But if you would like too-"
Before the Colonel can finish, 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 text on top of the now unconscious Flame Alchemist and trudges back to his desk.
I roll my eyes exasperatedly, flattening the pile of completed work in front of me. I look at the thickness of it, glance to the pile of papers my father is yet to complete and stand from my 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 Jacky and Marcus about various topics. Hence, it is fair to say that the work can be pushed aside for now.
"Dad," I call to said man after stepping over Roy's - still - unconscious figure. He looks up at me with a fatherly gleam in his eyes, shining brighter with his glass' glare. "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 my use with a kind smile. I walk to the frame, thank him for the gesture, and make my way out of it, towards my new family and home.