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31_days2011-06-19 03:30 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-06-19 03:30 pm
[June 19] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Native Son (Part 2/3)
Title: Native Son (Part 2 of 3)
Day/Theme: June 19, 2011 "The living and the dead are watching you."
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Ed, OCs
Rating: G
Author's comment: Happy Father's Day. This story sort of goes along with that, doesn't it?
This father might be as unhappy with the bond with his son as Ed had long felt concerning his own father, but denials would not change things.
The father was hard, but the mother, kneeling down to the height of the small boy, seemed soft. It didn't hurt that Ed's feelings for his own mother were unconfused. "Could I talk to his mother?"
"If Lydia wants to..." James shrugged and broke away, "...Do as you like." James had already said all he could stand to on this touchy subject. He was cold to this possible source of pain.
Ed picked up suitcase again and approached the woman in gray and purple. She rose from her kneeling position and met his eyes. Where James had pushed him away with a look, she pulled him in. "You look really elegant, ma'am. It seems like everyone in this family is well-dressed."
She laughed at this, a light sound not so far removed from sobbing. "Solf made all of us a bit more fashionable. Both of my sons were something of dandies, you see, Mister..."
"Elric. Edward Elric."
She announced what he had wondered if James knew. "You're- you were- the Fullmetal Alchemist. The very model of a State Alchemist, I'd wager. It's a pleasure, Mr. Elric," she shook his hand. "I'm Lydia Kimblee."
The boy's attention had been hooked by Ed's old title. His gaze did not stray as he seemingly attempted to take in every detail of Ed (what part made an alchemist?). Ed didn't expect him to speak, so he addressed himself to Lydia. "How about the little one? What's his name?"
"Daniel," the boy spoke up on his own. "Nice to meet you. Alchemy's sooo cool."
It was strange to Ed to see a look of discomfort cross Lydia's face that felt identical to his own. He wasn't sure how much she knew about Kimblee's exploits, but she had to know enough about the war to be aware of his being court-martialed. "Why don't you go on ahead, Daniel?" she trembled, though whether out of frailty or emotion Ed couldn't say. "We'll take a walk. Get out of this gloomy factory." Daniel heeded his grandmother's words and scuffed on ahead, sending a flash of light into the dim building as he opened a back door. Lydia's overcast eyes kept tightly to him until he vanished from sight.
"Both of my sons were alchemist," Lydia told Ed. "I even think practicing alchemy managed to make both of them happy. But I don't want Daniel to follow that path. I don't want him to join the military either." Ed took the door from her, passing his suitcase from one hand to the other again. He squinted at the comparative brilliance of the outdoors. The sunlight brought all the tiny lines and markings on Lydia's face into bright relief, like candlelight through parchment paper. "I just want Daniel to live quietly to an old age." She strolled ahead under the orange trees. "James really wanted someone we could call family to inherit the factory."
Was it this ambiguous wording that kept Ed's mind from settling? Was Daniel a real, biological part of this family or was he adopted? He looked like he was James and Lydia's real grandson. He could also understand why they might not say so, if he was that Kimblee's child (Was that possible? Timeline-wise? About how old was Daniel? Ed mentally ticked off the years. Okay, but even if it were possible, was it plausible? He just couldn't believe that). But it was too rude to burst out and ask such a thing. Ed knew as well as anyone that your family was ultimately who you made it be.
Lydia's soft shoes were quiet as they passed over the stream by way of a footbridge. Ed's boots clunked out a wooden rhythm. "How well," Lydia proceeded carefully with her inquiry, "Did you know Solf?"
How did he put this? Uh, he tried to blackmail and then kill me? Yeah right. "Uh, it was complicated. ...But in the end, he gave me a hand when I really needed it." It occurred to Ed that perhaps it would've been wiser to use his one lead to fish for information before revealing something potentially awkward. "What did Co- uh, Brigadier General Mustang tell you in his letter?"
"You weren't mentioned. He said Solf was killed during that horrible attempt at a coup. He had been released from prison to tackle a special job for the president. I hate to think what sort of bloody mission President Bradley would have chosen Solf for, of all people, but he was always very sharp. It probably had to do with counterterrorism."
Ed wasn't usually one to hold back hard truths, but this conspiracy was the new party line. How could he explain to Lydia about the Homunculi, ironic and bizarre as it was to hear this generous view of her son's actions?
"I don't know exactly when it happened, but I always think of it as being the same day that I learned that President Bradley and poor little Selim had been killed. I was listening to the radio," she gave her version of what was becoming a familiar tale across Amestris- 'where I was when I learned Bradley died' -"I was mending James' socks, actually. Do you...do you know how Solf died?"
Ed could see some of her son's keen mind in this bent and graying woman. If she were anything like Kimblee, she could probably already tell that he knew.
"Yeah." There was no use in lying. "I know."
"It's true that there were no remains that could be brought back to Fernburg for burial."
"Yeah, it's true." According to Heinkel and the others, Kimblee had been dying anyway, but Ed really didn't want to tell this pleasant older lady that her son, twisted and despicable as he might have been, had been eaten by a Homunculus when all she seemed to want for him was a decent burial. They emerged from the variegated shade of the orange trees and continued off away from an impressive two-story white house and garden toward a silent, empty cemetery. This was where Daniel had rushed ahead to. Ed guessed he was looking for bugs or something the way he had knelt down, peering between the stones. "The state didn't deprive you of anything just because he was a war criminal. There really was nothing to send home. It was a rough end, but I think he was satisfied."
"I imagine Solf managed to convey that feeling to you in one way or another."
...She had no idea. "Is that where you live?" Ed shifted the subject, pointing back toward the white house. "It's impressive."
"Yes, thank you. ...I suppose we're the local gentry..." The unmown grasses waved high around them. There was that look. That "I would've traded all of this" look. Ed imagined how it would have felt for someone like his mother to be in Lydia's place. ...It was hard to be a parent.
He supposed he'd found out what he wanted to know. All there was now was ride this somber scenario out to the end.
Lydia's destination was a pair of gravestones, side by side. Lon Thomas Kimblee. Solf James Kimblee. Dates of births and deaths (Lon died too long ago to be Daniel's father). White flowers had been left for both of them (would Kimblee have preferred red?). Daniel had reached down to the day-old blooms and found a ladybug. He turned his hand this way and that, keeping the speckled insect from reaching its goal of the highest point, until he finally relented and allowed the ladybug to climb to the tip of his index finger and fly away. Lydia folded her hands and stared at the graves of her sons. "Thank you for visiting, Mr. Elric."
Ed thought of the pair of graves he frequented back home. He wondered what Kimblee would have made of his visiting his hometown. He considered saying something to Daniel about how pleased his father would be that he was such a good boy, but there were so many things potentially wrong with this because of his uncertain paternity and how even if he were Kimblee's child, Kimblee probably wouldn't have wanted to praise him for being good, but for being clever or something like that, so Ed refrained. A slight breeze blew a large petal from one of the flowers. Ed compared the dates and realized that Kimblee had been an older brother, just like him. Strange.
"Oh," Lydia apologized suddenly, "You've been carrying your suitcase this whole time. I should've offered to let you leave it in the office back in the factory. I'm so sorry, Mr. Elric."
"Grandmom," Daniel leaned against Lydia, "When's tea time?"
"I'll, uh, let you go," Ed figured it was about time for him to break away and find out when the next southbound train would be coming so he could resume his journey.
"If," Lydia had her hands on Daniel's shoulders, "If you're not in a hurry, you could come into the kitchen and share tea with us." She had an inkling of what time table he might be running on. "The next train won't be here until five after the hour."
"Please come," Daniel urged him.
"Okay," Ed agreed. Daniel interested him. It seemed mutual.
[to be concluded on Tuesday, June 21st! See you then.]
Day/Theme: June 19, 2011 "The living and the dead are watching you."
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Ed, OCs
Rating: G
Author's comment: Happy Father's Day. This story sort of goes along with that, doesn't it?
This father might be as unhappy with the bond with his son as Ed had long felt concerning his own father, but denials would not change things.
The father was hard, but the mother, kneeling down to the height of the small boy, seemed soft. It didn't hurt that Ed's feelings for his own mother were unconfused. "Could I talk to his mother?"
"If Lydia wants to..." James shrugged and broke away, "...Do as you like." James had already said all he could stand to on this touchy subject. He was cold to this possible source of pain.
Ed picked up suitcase again and approached the woman in gray and purple. She rose from her kneeling position and met his eyes. Where James had pushed him away with a look, she pulled him in. "You look really elegant, ma'am. It seems like everyone in this family is well-dressed."
She laughed at this, a light sound not so far removed from sobbing. "Solf made all of us a bit more fashionable. Both of my sons were something of dandies, you see, Mister..."
"Elric. Edward Elric."
She announced what he had wondered if James knew. "You're- you were- the Fullmetal Alchemist. The very model of a State Alchemist, I'd wager. It's a pleasure, Mr. Elric," she shook his hand. "I'm Lydia Kimblee."
The boy's attention had been hooked by Ed's old title. His gaze did not stray as he seemingly attempted to take in every detail of Ed (what part made an alchemist?). Ed didn't expect him to speak, so he addressed himself to Lydia. "How about the little one? What's his name?"
"Daniel," the boy spoke up on his own. "Nice to meet you. Alchemy's sooo cool."
It was strange to Ed to see a look of discomfort cross Lydia's face that felt identical to his own. He wasn't sure how much she knew about Kimblee's exploits, but she had to know enough about the war to be aware of his being court-martialed. "Why don't you go on ahead, Daniel?" she trembled, though whether out of frailty or emotion Ed couldn't say. "We'll take a walk. Get out of this gloomy factory." Daniel heeded his grandmother's words and scuffed on ahead, sending a flash of light into the dim building as he opened a back door. Lydia's overcast eyes kept tightly to him until he vanished from sight.
"Both of my sons were alchemist," Lydia told Ed. "I even think practicing alchemy managed to make both of them happy. But I don't want Daniel to follow that path. I don't want him to join the military either." Ed took the door from her, passing his suitcase from one hand to the other again. He squinted at the comparative brilliance of the outdoors. The sunlight brought all the tiny lines and markings on Lydia's face into bright relief, like candlelight through parchment paper. "I just want Daniel to live quietly to an old age." She strolled ahead under the orange trees. "James really wanted someone we could call family to inherit the factory."
Was it this ambiguous wording that kept Ed's mind from settling? Was Daniel a real, biological part of this family or was he adopted? He looked like he was James and Lydia's real grandson. He could also understand why they might not say so, if he was that Kimblee's child (Was that possible? Timeline-wise? About how old was Daniel? Ed mentally ticked off the years. Okay, but even if it were possible, was it plausible? He just couldn't believe that). But it was too rude to burst out and ask such a thing. Ed knew as well as anyone that your family was ultimately who you made it be.
Lydia's soft shoes were quiet as they passed over the stream by way of a footbridge. Ed's boots clunked out a wooden rhythm. "How well," Lydia proceeded carefully with her inquiry, "Did you know Solf?"
How did he put this? Uh, he tried to blackmail and then kill me? Yeah right. "Uh, it was complicated. ...But in the end, he gave me a hand when I really needed it." It occurred to Ed that perhaps it would've been wiser to use his one lead to fish for information before revealing something potentially awkward. "What did Co- uh, Brigadier General Mustang tell you in his letter?"
"You weren't mentioned. He said Solf was killed during that horrible attempt at a coup. He had been released from prison to tackle a special job for the president. I hate to think what sort of bloody mission President Bradley would have chosen Solf for, of all people, but he was always very sharp. It probably had to do with counterterrorism."
Ed wasn't usually one to hold back hard truths, but this conspiracy was the new party line. How could he explain to Lydia about the Homunculi, ironic and bizarre as it was to hear this generous view of her son's actions?
"I don't know exactly when it happened, but I always think of it as being the same day that I learned that President Bradley and poor little Selim had been killed. I was listening to the radio," she gave her version of what was becoming a familiar tale across Amestris- 'where I was when I learned Bradley died' -"I was mending James' socks, actually. Do you...do you know how Solf died?"
Ed could see some of her son's keen mind in this bent and graying woman. If she were anything like Kimblee, she could probably already tell that he knew.
"Yeah." There was no use in lying. "I know."
"It's true that there were no remains that could be brought back to Fernburg for burial."
"Yeah, it's true." According to Heinkel and the others, Kimblee had been dying anyway, but Ed really didn't want to tell this pleasant older lady that her son, twisted and despicable as he might have been, had been eaten by a Homunculus when all she seemed to want for him was a decent burial. They emerged from the variegated shade of the orange trees and continued off away from an impressive two-story white house and garden toward a silent, empty cemetery. This was where Daniel had rushed ahead to. Ed guessed he was looking for bugs or something the way he had knelt down, peering between the stones. "The state didn't deprive you of anything just because he was a war criminal. There really was nothing to send home. It was a rough end, but I think he was satisfied."
"I imagine Solf managed to convey that feeling to you in one way or another."
...She had no idea. "Is that where you live?" Ed shifted the subject, pointing back toward the white house. "It's impressive."
"Yes, thank you. ...I suppose we're the local gentry..." The unmown grasses waved high around them. There was that look. That "I would've traded all of this" look. Ed imagined how it would have felt for someone like his mother to be in Lydia's place. ...It was hard to be a parent.
He supposed he'd found out what he wanted to know. All there was now was ride this somber scenario out to the end.
Lydia's destination was a pair of gravestones, side by side. Lon Thomas Kimblee. Solf James Kimblee. Dates of births and deaths (Lon died too long ago to be Daniel's father). White flowers had been left for both of them (would Kimblee have preferred red?). Daniel had reached down to the day-old blooms and found a ladybug. He turned his hand this way and that, keeping the speckled insect from reaching its goal of the highest point, until he finally relented and allowed the ladybug to climb to the tip of his index finger and fly away. Lydia folded her hands and stared at the graves of her sons. "Thank you for visiting, Mr. Elric."
Ed thought of the pair of graves he frequented back home. He wondered what Kimblee would have made of his visiting his hometown. He considered saying something to Daniel about how pleased his father would be that he was such a good boy, but there were so many things potentially wrong with this because of his uncertain paternity and how even if he were Kimblee's child, Kimblee probably wouldn't have wanted to praise him for being good, but for being clever or something like that, so Ed refrained. A slight breeze blew a large petal from one of the flowers. Ed compared the dates and realized that Kimblee had been an older brother, just like him. Strange.
"Oh," Lydia apologized suddenly, "You've been carrying your suitcase this whole time. I should've offered to let you leave it in the office back in the factory. I'm so sorry, Mr. Elric."
"Grandmom," Daniel leaned against Lydia, "When's tea time?"
"I'll, uh, let you go," Ed figured it was about time for him to break away and find out when the next southbound train would be coming so he could resume his journey.
"If," Lydia had her hands on Daniel's shoulders, "If you're not in a hurry, you could come into the kitchen and share tea with us." She had an inkling of what time table he might be running on. "The next train won't be here until five after the hour."
"Please come," Daniel urged him.
"Okay," Ed agreed. Daniel interested him. It seemed mutual.
[to be concluded on Tuesday, June 21st! See you then.]