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Title: Home
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Written for my cinco de mayo meme - and yeah, I do know it's September. For yukiwiththeawesome.
Characters: Ed x Winry
Summary: "Amestris didn’t have Christmas."
Amestris didn’t have Christmas.
They have a winter solstice festival, and some things are the same: the lights in the trees, the swirl of parties, the gifts, the mistletoe, but across the gate, there was no God attached.
People attach God to everything here.
So really, there’s no reason that it should remind Edward of her, no reason he should walk past a street corner preacher histrionically lying about God making the world in six days and think of her pulling all-nighters to finish his automail. No reason for him to smell chestnuts roasting on metal grates and think of Winry burning her first pot of stew.
He shouldn’t be out here, standing on a bitterly cold, snowy street, the wind slicing at his cheeks like Lust’s claws, listening to the high, eerie singing that’s spilling out of the church.
It’s the candlelight.
The windows - all the windows- are practically bleeding warm, homely light, and Ed can’t help but think of Risembool, of Winry calling him and Al to dinner with her father’s old signaling lantern, can’t help but remember tromping into the Rockbell house with Al at his side, their fingers ink-stained and their bellies growling.
Christmas in Europe is about home, and even if he has Al now, has his family, he realizes he doesn't have a home.
Winry was always home.
Author: redbrunja
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Written for my cinco de mayo meme - and yeah, I do know it's September. For yukiwiththeawesome.
Characters: Ed x Winry
Summary: "Amestris didn’t have Christmas."
Amestris didn’t have Christmas.
They have a winter solstice festival, and some things are the same: the lights in the trees, the swirl of parties, the gifts, the mistletoe, but across the gate, there was no God attached.
People attach God to everything here.
So really, there’s no reason that it should remind Edward of her, no reason he should walk past a street corner preacher histrionically lying about God making the world in six days and think of her pulling all-nighters to finish his automail. No reason for him to smell chestnuts roasting on metal grates and think of Winry burning her first pot of stew.
He shouldn’t be out here, standing on a bitterly cold, snowy street, the wind slicing at his cheeks like Lust’s claws, listening to the high, eerie singing that’s spilling out of the church.
It’s the candlelight.
The windows - all the windows- are practically bleeding warm, homely light, and Ed can’t help but think of Risembool, of Winry calling him and Al to dinner with her father’s old signaling lantern, can’t help but remember tromping into the Rockbell house with Al at his side, their fingers ink-stained and their bellies growling.
Christmas in Europe is about home, and even if he has Al now, has his family, he realizes he doesn't have a home.
Winry was always home.
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