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[one-shot] Fullmetal Alchemist ~ Tact
Tact
Roy/Ed. Gen. PG. 427 words.
warnings: spoilers for end of series.
author's notes: There's a lot of subtext in Roy and Ed's interaction in ep. 48. Thus, I wrote this. Criticism is very much appreciated.
Roy extended his hand, thin lips twisted in an imitation of apology; a brave face, one most definitely not his. That sharp-looking idiotic fedora (all the rage in a city more fashionable than Central) hung heavy over his face, transient protection against the golden sun and prying eyes, but offered little relief from a combination of the two; these particular gold eyes brazenly glared such resolve that Roy had changed his orbit to make revolutions around them. Those immutable eyes had been a catalyst for his final selflessness; revolution was never without sacrifice.
It had been more than a political or military gamble; Roy had been taught by a boy half his age about compromise. everything I need to know I learned in kindergarten, Roy almost snidely murmured, but he held his traitorous serpent tongue, distracted by the flash of emotion across Edward's face.
The blond stared at the proffered hand in transfixed pain; he didn't want this gift, a casually tossed box of equality, more ribbons and tissue than anything, because Roy was feeling sentimental
pompous bastard, thinking you can *give* something like that
--never mind that was what he had wanted, fatherly pride in a simple gesture, a word-- because that would mean Roy was finished; they would fail and die, their years of work and blind hope and pain like smoke in a military hurricane. Ed was losing focus. Keep moving, the mantra hissed inside him, but he drifted, frozen and at sea.
Roy's hand was bleached, aged, a dead man's hand
black looks so much better on me-- what an aging peacock --
Ed's eyes softened for a millisecond; the man was, like it or not, the only hero Ed had, in a sea of monsters. He entertained the thought of reporting damages to the colonel after all this, watching the man blow a gasket and make some comment about his height, all jabs now made amicable by the completion of their quests. And then maybe they'd go on a walk and Roy would be a hell of a lot nicer than that Hohenheim asshole.
But colonels had feelings too. Ed's eyes hardened with mock carelessness into amber, fossils of youth, and knocked aside the offered hand with a half smile, a promise. He willed the proud lump in his throat down into the base of his stomach. He felt childishly lonely, the orange light of a dying day glaring in his face.
Roy felt a smile on his lips. You little punk, he almost said, but "Farewell," came out first.
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epicdisaster) wrote,
