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31_days2011-06-21 10:55 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-06-21 10:55 am
[June 21] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Native Son (3/3)
Title: Native Son (Part 3 of 3)
Day/Theme: June 21, 2011 "Something of that fire burns still"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Ed, OCs (set post-manga/Brotherhood)
Rating: G
Tea was a low-key affair in the kitchen of the Kimblee house. There were several photos out of a messy-haired, wide-eyed young man. While Lydia busied herself taking out teacups and heating water over the stove, Ed came closer to inspect them. A shot of two boys confirmed that the diligently chronicled one was Kimblee's younger brother.
It was kind of funny to look, knowing he was being watched himself as he did so. Daniel's eyes were fixed on him. The spark within them had not varied in brilliance this whole encounter. "You look a lot alike," Ed touched his fingertip to Kimblee's childhood form. He smiled gently at Daniel, curious as to what he would say.
"No one says that, but Grandmom says everyone wants to." Daniel was impressed by Ed's honesty. Even if Ed knew that this late member of the family was a touchy subject, he wasn't afraid to speak about him openly.
It was hard to tell how Daniel felt about the family resemblance. "Do you wish people would say or not?"
"I wish they wouldn't be scared of me because of somebody I didn't ever know. He's him, I'm me." Ed nodded. He could relate.
"Daniel, can you come in here and help me carry these things?"
"Yes, Grandmom." He started to zip off, then turned and delivered a stiff bow in Ed's direction, before resuming his kitchen-ward trajectory. Such politeness wasn't second nature to Daniel, but he tried. Ed continued to note his attempts at fancy manners over the tea. Despite his clear liking for them, Daniel managed to offer the last peach cookie to his guest and grandmother instead of snatching it for himself (thankfully, they both turned it down).
Lydia made pleasant small talk with Ed, asking about what he was doing now that he had resigned his commission, about his wife's work once he mentioned her, if he planned on having any children... She was a rare parent who didn't want to hand him off some preemptive piece of child-rearing advice. He looked away from Daniel to the innocent portrait of her two dead sons and found sadness at the root of her reserve and modesty. She wasn't the most dedicated follower of political news, but the role she believe Ed had played in "stopping the attempted coup" at such a young age quite impressed her. She wouldn't let a "national hero" help with the dishes either.
"Go on, you'll want to head back now so you can catch your train," Lydia gently shook Ed's hand on the doorstep.
"Thanks for treating me so well after I just burst in like that. Unannounced and all, asking weird questions..." He was still doing that sort of thing, but now, a little older and in a more peaceful time, it felt more awkward than before.
Daniel bowed with a one word, "G'bye," from his grandmother's side.
Ed picked up his suitcase and headed back the way he'd come when Lydia first lead him out this way. The main difference was that this time he didn't cut through the factory, but skirted around its borders. Inside, he could hear the endless thrum of whirring machinery. Unbidden, Winry's horror stories of limbs severed in places such as this rose to the forefront of his mind. Daisy Cunningham's automail hand was a result of one such accident, wasn't it?
It wasn't until he struck down the thought that he realized the boy was following him. Ed stopped and turned around without preamble. He and Daniel exchanged curious, thoughtful looks. Ed waited to see if Daniel would say anything, but even though he was bold enough to match the visitor's gaze, one pair of golden eyes to the other, he didn't speak up. There was nothing wrong with being quiet. Maybe it was even a virtue in some people (Ed wouldn't go so far as to say everyone- he didn't see how being quieter would make him a better person).
"You be good for your grandparents, okay?" Ed leaned down, closing the gap between them.
"Yes, sir," Daniel answered promptly. Ed wondered why no one else seemed capable of giving him half as much respect as this random kid- and those people knew he'd helped to save the country, if not the world. The Kimblees might have raised one psycho, but they knew how to teach a kid manners.
Of course, even after this exchange, Daniel lingered. "Something on your mind?"
"You're an alchemist."
"I used to be." Ed knew a lot of kids thought alchemy was cool. He'd been one of them.
"But not anymore?" Daniel's eyes fell from Ed's face to his feet. He was clearly disappointed.
"No. It was fun while it lasted, but there's more to life than alchemy."
"Grandmom and Granddad think alchemy is bad. They don't want me to learn about it. They said I'm not allowed to."
The scar on his side was not actually throbbing, Ed told himself. He was just imagining it. James and Lydia might not know all the things their son had done, but they knew enough. Ed had a more nuanced view of alchemy, but, under the circumstances he couldn't blame them for discouraging it. On one hand, forbidding a child from doing something only made him or her more likely to want to do it. On the other hand, who could blame Mr. and Mrs. Kimblee for not wanting to go through that again?
Daniel's paternity had been sidestepped, but Ed had a hard time seeing anyone but Kimblee (or perhaps James?) in that face. It didn't inspire comfort. He and Al were pretty different from their father, but in a few crucial ways, they were painfully similar.
"At your age, you should listen to what your grandparents say, but later stuff like that will be up to you, Daniel. Alchemy can be used for a lot of good things. Or it can be used for bad ones. It all depends on the will of the alchemist who wields it."
Daniel didn't smile, but he met Ed's gaze once more. He seemed so serious. "Was I that serious back then?" His eyes were that all-too-rare shade of gold, but they lacked the cold spark of his predecessor. "Yeah, I know. I'll be good," Daniel stepped back, effectively allowing Ed to go. "Have a fun trip, Mr. Elric. I bet Aerugo will be neat."
"Goodbye, Daniel J. Kimblee," Ed replied. It was like a thank you. He was all in favor of setting loose the darkness of the past and looking toward the future.
Day/Theme: June 21, 2011 "Something of that fire burns still"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Ed, OCs (set post-manga/Brotherhood)
Rating: G
Tea was a low-key affair in the kitchen of the Kimblee house. There were several photos out of a messy-haired, wide-eyed young man. While Lydia busied herself taking out teacups and heating water over the stove, Ed came closer to inspect them. A shot of two boys confirmed that the diligently chronicled one was Kimblee's younger brother.
It was kind of funny to look, knowing he was being watched himself as he did so. Daniel's eyes were fixed on him. The spark within them had not varied in brilliance this whole encounter. "You look a lot alike," Ed touched his fingertip to Kimblee's childhood form. He smiled gently at Daniel, curious as to what he would say.
"No one says that, but Grandmom says everyone wants to." Daniel was impressed by Ed's honesty. Even if Ed knew that this late member of the family was a touchy subject, he wasn't afraid to speak about him openly.
It was hard to tell how Daniel felt about the family resemblance. "Do you wish people would say or not?"
"I wish they wouldn't be scared of me because of somebody I didn't ever know. He's him, I'm me." Ed nodded. He could relate.
"Daniel, can you come in here and help me carry these things?"
"Yes, Grandmom." He started to zip off, then turned and delivered a stiff bow in Ed's direction, before resuming his kitchen-ward trajectory. Such politeness wasn't second nature to Daniel, but he tried. Ed continued to note his attempts at fancy manners over the tea. Despite his clear liking for them, Daniel managed to offer the last peach cookie to his guest and grandmother instead of snatching it for himself (thankfully, they both turned it down).
Lydia made pleasant small talk with Ed, asking about what he was doing now that he had resigned his commission, about his wife's work once he mentioned her, if he planned on having any children... She was a rare parent who didn't want to hand him off some preemptive piece of child-rearing advice. He looked away from Daniel to the innocent portrait of her two dead sons and found sadness at the root of her reserve and modesty. She wasn't the most dedicated follower of political news, but the role she believe Ed had played in "stopping the attempted coup" at such a young age quite impressed her. She wouldn't let a "national hero" help with the dishes either.
"Go on, you'll want to head back now so you can catch your train," Lydia gently shook Ed's hand on the doorstep.
"Thanks for treating me so well after I just burst in like that. Unannounced and all, asking weird questions..." He was still doing that sort of thing, but now, a little older and in a more peaceful time, it felt more awkward than before.
Daniel bowed with a one word, "G'bye," from his grandmother's side.
Ed picked up his suitcase and headed back the way he'd come when Lydia first lead him out this way. The main difference was that this time he didn't cut through the factory, but skirted around its borders. Inside, he could hear the endless thrum of whirring machinery. Unbidden, Winry's horror stories of limbs severed in places such as this rose to the forefront of his mind. Daisy Cunningham's automail hand was a result of one such accident, wasn't it?
It wasn't until he struck down the thought that he realized the boy was following him. Ed stopped and turned around without preamble. He and Daniel exchanged curious, thoughtful looks. Ed waited to see if Daniel would say anything, but even though he was bold enough to match the visitor's gaze, one pair of golden eyes to the other, he didn't speak up. There was nothing wrong with being quiet. Maybe it was even a virtue in some people (Ed wouldn't go so far as to say everyone- he didn't see how being quieter would make him a better person).
"You be good for your grandparents, okay?" Ed leaned down, closing the gap between them.
"Yes, sir," Daniel answered promptly. Ed wondered why no one else seemed capable of giving him half as much respect as this random kid- and those people knew he'd helped to save the country, if not the world. The Kimblees might have raised one psycho, but they knew how to teach a kid manners.
Of course, even after this exchange, Daniel lingered. "Something on your mind?"
"You're an alchemist."
"I used to be." Ed knew a lot of kids thought alchemy was cool. He'd been one of them.
"But not anymore?" Daniel's eyes fell from Ed's face to his feet. He was clearly disappointed.
"No. It was fun while it lasted, but there's more to life than alchemy."
"Grandmom and Granddad think alchemy is bad. They don't want me to learn about it. They said I'm not allowed to."
The scar on his side was not actually throbbing, Ed told himself. He was just imagining it. James and Lydia might not know all the things their son had done, but they knew enough. Ed had a more nuanced view of alchemy, but, under the circumstances he couldn't blame them for discouraging it. On one hand, forbidding a child from doing something only made him or her more likely to want to do it. On the other hand, who could blame Mr. and Mrs. Kimblee for not wanting to go through that again?
Daniel's paternity had been sidestepped, but Ed had a hard time seeing anyone but Kimblee (or perhaps James?) in that face. It didn't inspire comfort. He and Al were pretty different from their father, but in a few crucial ways, they were painfully similar.
"At your age, you should listen to what your grandparents say, but later stuff like that will be up to you, Daniel. Alchemy can be used for a lot of good things. Or it can be used for bad ones. It all depends on the will of the alchemist who wields it."
Daniel didn't smile, but he met Ed's gaze once more. He seemed so serious. "Was I that serious back then?" His eyes were that all-too-rare shade of gold, but they lacked the cold spark of his predecessor. "Yeah, I know. I'll be good," Daniel stepped back, effectively allowing Ed to go. "Have a fun trip, Mr. Elric. I bet Aerugo will be neat."
"Goodbye, Daniel J. Kimblee," Ed replied. It was like a thank you. He was all in favor of setting loose the darkness of the past and looking toward the future.