Work Text:
He has dreamed of her.
At first, before anything else.
Before knowing the blue of her eyes, the color of her skin, the way she bends her head and prays softly before taking a sip of water. He has spent hundreds of nights in Caladan sleeping naked, hearing her whisper his name. He knows her deep in his bones, scarred in his soul and yet– yet she's nothing of what he imagined.
The first time Winry sees him, he's standing tall in the middle of a crowded room, dozens of eyes follow his every step, shouting his name.
The sole heir of House Elric is bleeding, knife full of her father's champion, but his head is high, proud of his win. She is half mesmerized by him, a young pup once lost without a family, found his way deep into the desert, learned to breath sand, to fight like a devil, to embrace his fate and become a Messiah. He speaks, walks and moves calmly, as if the heat of the battle did not reach him in the previous hours.
Edward Elric mocks her father when he demands the young Duke to kneel before him.
"As of now you're the Duke of House Elric, must bow and kiss my feet, showing your Emperor your loyalty." Her father says and Winry wants to roll her eyes.
How men are stupid.
"Kiss your feet?" Edward snarls, angrily. "You'll be lucky to keep your head. You slaughtered my House, killed my Father and brother, left me to die, now demands loyalty?"
His eyes quickly move towards her, Winry is forced to glue her feet into the ground because for a second, she thinks he'll devour her. Break her and steal her for himself. Maybe even kill her.
"I'll take your daughter's hand." Edward speaks with their connected, golden versus blue. "She'll rule by my side as Empress and you have my word she'll be taken care of."
Winry shivers at his golden eyes– never seen before in a human, but he’s not, not really, right? As of this moment, Edward Elric is a God.
Her father argues weekly, demands a trial by combat that Edward Elric slices her father’s champion quickly, without mercy, before raising his head with blood on his forehead. He is more men than a God at that moment, but still– all of his army, his followers around him chant his name, raise their swords and scream in victory.
Edward Elric walks slowly towards her father – the only she has – with his sword in hand. She knows how this will end – not because she see’s the future, a gift only presented to him , the chosen one, the Golden God – but because Winry knows men and they are fucking stupid.
Winry steps ahead, bowing her head and accepting his previous offer. “Spare my father and I am yours. I will be your dutiful wife and you will be Emperor.”
Edward’s response is to stand in front of her father, extend his hand and look. After a bit of silence, the former Emperor kneels, kissing the family ring in Edward Elric’s hand.
He looks at her, holding her gaze as he chants. “To Paradise.”
*
Winry is sitting in the High Gardens, basking in the sun for the first time in two weeks since the rains were non-stop, biting an apple, book in hand, when she notices him standing, not far from her.
She's not surprised to see blood in his stillsuit.
"Back from another massacre?" Winry doesn't make a move while looking into his eyes.
Four months into this marriage and Edward Elric, God Emperor, does not expect any courtesy from her. He has realized quickly that Winry will not bow willingly towards him, she used to think about this proudly until she realized how amused he is by her little defiance.
"If you call that way," His hair is getting longer, now past his shoulders, but somehow he looks even more beautiful. More– Godly. "I did give them a choice."
"Kneel or die?"
Edward doesn’t blink. "It's war."
"Holy war." Winry returns her eyes to her book. "That you started."
"Me?" His armor is lean against his body, it's a little twisted how handsome he looks dirty and sweaty from battle. "Let's not forget who decided to slaughter my house and decided to set things in motion."
As if she'll ever forget that.
"What are you even doing here?" Winry stops pretending she's reading. "Shouldn't you be amongst your soldiers, commemorating your victory? Or with your minions, whispering you prayers?"
For the first time, he steps closer. “I brought you something.”
Winry raises her eyebrows as Edward removes his glove, the Elrics ring drawing attention to his hand, as he twists and finds what he’s looking for. Winry closes her book when Edward kneels in front of her, something round and gold in his hands.
“I found this in Zenia.” He says quietly, eyes not moving from the piece. Edward gently takes her wrist and opens her fingers, he lays the object in the center of her palm. “And I immediately thought of you.”
It’s a brooch, heavy – probably made of real gold – and delicate, the metal twisted in a gentle orchid with a blue sapphire in the middle. It is possibly the most beautiful jewel that Winry has ever seen – and she was the Emperor’s daughter, she was dotted with pretty things all her life. Winry twists gently the brooch, taking note of every detail of the curved metal; she feels, more than sees, Edward’s golden eyes on her.
“It is–” She gulps, not really knowing how to deal with this. “Beautiful.”
Edward’s lips curl upward as his eyes never leave her face. “Yes, it is.”
Winry is royalty, she has manners and language, she can argue with Dukes and recite poetry, she is everything she was design to be – the perfect princess who knows her role in the grand scheme of things and yet– yet, it’s Edward Elric, the boy who lost everything and found in the desert, who steals her words and makes her blush.
“Thank you.” She gives him a small smile, for the first time that week. “I appreciate your gesture.”
He merely nods, clearly satisfied with himself, and stands. “I must go, Fuery needs me. Will I see you later?”
It is interesting how he poses the phrase as a question, as if that is Winry’s full choice, when in reality it is his. This might be an arranged marriage – what royal marriage is not arranged? – but still, they have duties to fulfill, and providing an heir is Winry’s. Four months and Winry has only spent two weeks sleeping in her own room.
“Of course, Emperor.”
After their marriage under the weirwood tree in Caladan, Edward didn’t say a word to her.
He guided her towards his castle, moving in the hallways without breaking his face or talking to anyone. Everyone bowed to him, but most kneeled, whispering his name, his prophet name, his golden hair and eyes. He gently nodded towards his bedroom and quickly closed the door behind them.
It was an old custom the first night of the Emperor and his wife – or concubine – should be attended by the Reverend Mother and the Mustat to insure the seed to take root. However, Edward merely denied all of them without a single word.
He removed his cape, armor and linen shirt as soon as he could. Winry stood quietly in the middle of the room, her veil keeping her face away from him. At that point, Winry knew very little of Edward Elric’s personality. She knew he was ruthless, borderline evil to his enemies but charismatic enough to move masses, to introduce himself as a leader, a Messiah for an indomitable people. But other than that, nothing.
Edward could be cruel to her – many would say he would have the right since it was her father who slaughtered his family — or he could hate her. But instead, he was neither.
He was quiet, collected – almost too controlled – with his hands and mouth. Edward stepped behind her after removing the veil, staring at Winry’s back, her naked neck and shoulders before quietly placing a kiss there.
“I like your hair.” He whispered, opening her dress.
Winry had cut her blonde waves, tossed them on the floor as an act of rebellion of her fate — she was the one who accepted the marriage but still, it didn’t mean she liked it — cutting so short her neck was exposed to the sun, the hair two inches from her shoulder. She imagined the new Emperor would hate it, but instead—
Well.
In the end, Winry could almost say he was delicate, aware of her at all times and when it ended, he had kissed her forehead and sent her away.
*
By the end of the fourth week, she is used to his touch. She arrives at his room and meets him bare chest, a bottle of wine and two cups, him sitting facing his winter garden. Edward motions Winry to come closer and remove her veil. She’s a little alert at first, not knowing what he wants, but she calms when they stare at each other.
His feet are bare, the skin of his stomach folds a little when he sits and Winry is reminded how young Edward is, a boy in charge of a galaxy, a God to all and none. Her entire world sits upon those steps.
Winry grabs the hem of her dress and leaves little room between their bodies as she sits next to him. They are not touching, not really, but there is a vibration between their bodies. Edward offers her a cup and they drink in silence, watching the rain pour. The line of his jaw is so pretty that Winry gets lost for a moment.
“You’ve done this before.” Edward says
“What? Drinking alcohol with an Emperor?” Winry smirks against her will. “Of course I have.”
“No, sex.”
“Oh,” She’s a little startled at the topic – they never discussed their current situation, at least, not openly. Winry looks into his eyes looking for— anger? Maybe resentment at her for not being a virgin? But Winry sees none. “Yeah— I have. Is that a problem?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Edward frowns before shrugging. “I’m just curious, I think. I know? Hm. But you seemed— to know what to do. Everytime.”
“Yeah, I think I know? What I am doing at least. I’ve done it a few times, enough to learn what I want. But— well.” Winry scoffs. “It’s incredible how bored one can be when your life revolves around a bubble.”
He hums, nodding before taking a sip. Since they are talking and being— friendly? At best. Winry feels compelled to ask the same.
“Ah, I have but— no more than three times. Still, I feel a little disoriented when it happens. There’s always so much happening in my head and with my body, I can barely focus.”
That explains so much. Edward doesn’t fumble nor hesitate but— he seems to know and not know what he wants, fearful to demand more, to want more.
“Sex can be disorienting, a little. Bodies and emotions—”
“Not like that.” It’s the first time Edward talks so much with her. “I mean, I suppose that too. But it’s very rare for me to focus at one thing at a time. There’s ins and outs, going forward and moving back, all at the same time.”
What a torture it must be to be a God, know everything everywhere all at once.
“I can help you focus, if you want. Teach you. If that’s not too imposing.” Winry dries her cup, staring into his golden eyes. “Husband.”
For the first time in the night, Winry sees him smile. She’d imagined he’d say no, argue with her because who is she to question him? His desires and abilities? To say— to think he is a lesser man? But instead, it almost feels like he was waiting for this, eager for her conclusion and her acceptance. (As she expected – what a delight controversy Edward Elric is).
Edward nods, smiles and whispers, “Yes, wife.”
All of the times Edward — and Winry — performed their duty, it was on his master bed. This time, Winry only gathers the skirt of her long dress, swings her legs on his waist and sits at his eye level. She doesn’t kiss him nor does he expect that; they know better. Know who they are and what their roles are. That’s why, instead, she goes directly to his throat, licking and kissing all the skin she can find. His naked chest is warm against her palms, up and down with his breathing as she bites his earlobe.
Winry takes both of his hands and places them on her arms. Edward rubs the fingertips on her skin, his body answering hers. He moves his hands on her shoulders, her throat, her jaw and stops when his thumb brushes her lips.
“I don’t know what this is.” He whispers, with reverence. “I think you are a dream.”
Winry pushes her dress down, freeing her breasts enough that her nipples peak. “Touch me and see how real I am.”
Yes, yes, he thinks as Winry takes him inside — shivering in his lap, half mad, half insane —, take my heart and take my soul with you. Bend me to your will and make me your servant. I am nothing but a God designed for you. My allegiance is to you for I’ve seen your future and it belongs to me, all of you. To love is to lose and to confess: I am prepared to be destroyed by you.