FMA fanfiction
Feb. 14th, 2005 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swordageI give into the sudden rush of lovely ficcage that is Valentine's Day. Even though this is really more of an Easter piece. >_> It was supposed to be a drabble. I've gotten wordy in my old age. (Haha, old age!)
Title: Observance
Series: FMA
Rating: G
Ramifications: Spoilers for, um, 41-43? I forget. OMG SCAR FIC.
Summary: In Lior, Ed learns of Ishvalla.
Edward turned a corner, muttering under his breath about the dust and general dishabille, and nearly ran into Scar’s makeshift shrine. He cursed loudly, catching a wobbling candle before it could fall off the carefully-stacked crates.
“What the hell?” he demanded, glaring at Scar and the brightly-colored fabric draped along the crates and the small candle-stubs he had managed to scrounge. “Don’t just put stuff like that in the hall! I could have died! Been set on fire!”
“Hush. The baby is sleeping.” Scar ignored the questions, keeping his head bowed for a moment longer before rising and snuffing the candles out one by one.
Edward growled his irritation, but did so quietly. Scar supposed it was to be expected. “What the heck is all of this?”
“It is a holy day.” He felt no need to elaborate to a non-believer, and instead began to shift the still-soft candles to a more sturdy surface. Edward muttered something under his breath before helping. Scar turned to hide his smile.
“What kind of holy day involves taking over a perfectly good hallway and lighting people on fire?” Edward grumbled, and Scar sighed. The boy was spectacularly single-minded.
“It is the day we celebrate the births of our holy men,” he told the boy.
“That’s kinda weird. You celebrate little babies?” Edward arched an eyebrow expressively, not noticing the wax dripping onto his right hand. “I mean, babies are great and all, but a holy day devoted to them?”
“That will be hard to clean.” Scar didn’t bother indicating his meaning, just left Edward to figure it out on his own - it only took a moment for the profanities to stream forth. Sharp boy. “You expect us to celebrate their deaths, then? I understand that is the custom elsewhere.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Edward was picking disconsolately at the dried wax, leaving Scar to finish cleaning up. “But usually it’s something they did right before they died that made them really important, right?”
“No. Their lives were what made them holy, not their deaths. By living, they shared the wisdom Ishvalla had given them, and we are thankful for it.” He began folding the scraps of fabric, carefully smoothing the edges. “So we celebrate the beginnings, with all the promise they hold, rather than their deaths.”
Edward was quiet then, gaze withdrawn and thoughtful. Scar felt his chest tighten at the familiarity of the look; he had often seen his own brother finish a passage in a book and contemplate it in the same way. He moved the crates to their original out-of-the-way corner to distract himself.
“That makes sense,” Edward said finally. “But why do you celebrate them all together, instead of on whatever day they were born?”
“Because their greatest contributions were to the whole, unselfish in their generosity.” He couldn’t help a small smile at the irony of their situation; a heretic preaching the love of Ishvalla to a skeptic. “By celebrating them together, we see the parts come together into a whole, each adding to the previous.”
“So if, say, one of these saints had never existed, or if one were killed as a kid or something, the whole thing would fall apart.” Edward frowned, and Scar realized where the small crease between the boy’s brows had come from. “That’s really delicate.”
“Yes,” Scar agreed, “Life is very precious.”
“That’s not what I…” Edward trailed off on his own, then looked up at Scar with an odd half-smile. “I guess that is what I said.”
“You’re welcome.” He put a hand on Edward’s shoulder, smiling a little at the automatic bristle. “Tomorrow I will teach you of materialism.”
“Hey!” Ed stalked after him when he left the room, headed to the makeshift kitchen that was still better than anything he‘d had since childhood. “That wasn’t an invitation to convert me! I just wanted to know why I was being set on fire! Are you listening to me?!”
“Yes, Edward Elric. I hear you quite clearly. And so does the baby.”
“Aw, crap, don’t cry…”
Title: Observance
Series: FMA
Rating: G
Ramifications: Spoilers for, um, 41-43? I forget. OMG SCAR FIC.
Summary: In Lior, Ed learns of Ishvalla.
Edward turned a corner, muttering under his breath about the dust and general dishabille, and nearly ran into Scar’s makeshift shrine. He cursed loudly, catching a wobbling candle before it could fall off the carefully-stacked crates.
“What the hell?” he demanded, glaring at Scar and the brightly-colored fabric draped along the crates and the small candle-stubs he had managed to scrounge. “Don’t just put stuff like that in the hall! I could have died! Been set on fire!”
“Hush. The baby is sleeping.” Scar ignored the questions, keeping his head bowed for a moment longer before rising and snuffing the candles out one by one.
Edward growled his irritation, but did so quietly. Scar supposed it was to be expected. “What the heck is all of this?”
“It is a holy day.” He felt no need to elaborate to a non-believer, and instead began to shift the still-soft candles to a more sturdy surface. Edward muttered something under his breath before helping. Scar turned to hide his smile.
“What kind of holy day involves taking over a perfectly good hallway and lighting people on fire?” Edward grumbled, and Scar sighed. The boy was spectacularly single-minded.
“It is the day we celebrate the births of our holy men,” he told the boy.
“That’s kinda weird. You celebrate little babies?” Edward arched an eyebrow expressively, not noticing the wax dripping onto his right hand. “I mean, babies are great and all, but a holy day devoted to them?”
“That will be hard to clean.” Scar didn’t bother indicating his meaning, just left Edward to figure it out on his own - it only took a moment for the profanities to stream forth. Sharp boy. “You expect us to celebrate their deaths, then? I understand that is the custom elsewhere.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Edward was picking disconsolately at the dried wax, leaving Scar to finish cleaning up. “But usually it’s something they did right before they died that made them really important, right?”
“No. Their lives were what made them holy, not their deaths. By living, they shared the wisdom Ishvalla had given them, and we are thankful for it.” He began folding the scraps of fabric, carefully smoothing the edges. “So we celebrate the beginnings, with all the promise they hold, rather than their deaths.”
Edward was quiet then, gaze withdrawn and thoughtful. Scar felt his chest tighten at the familiarity of the look; he had often seen his own brother finish a passage in a book and contemplate it in the same way. He moved the crates to their original out-of-the-way corner to distract himself.
“That makes sense,” Edward said finally. “But why do you celebrate them all together, instead of on whatever day they were born?”
“Because their greatest contributions were to the whole, unselfish in their generosity.” He couldn’t help a small smile at the irony of their situation; a heretic preaching the love of Ishvalla to a skeptic. “By celebrating them together, we see the parts come together into a whole, each adding to the previous.”
“So if, say, one of these saints had never existed, or if one were killed as a kid or something, the whole thing would fall apart.” Edward frowned, and Scar realized where the small crease between the boy’s brows had come from. “That’s really delicate.”
“Yes,” Scar agreed, “Life is very precious.”
“That’s not what I…” Edward trailed off on his own, then looked up at Scar with an odd half-smile. “I guess that is what I said.”
“You’re welcome.” He put a hand on Edward’s shoulder, smiling a little at the automatic bristle. “Tomorrow I will teach you of materialism.”
“Hey!” Ed stalked after him when he left the room, headed to the makeshift kitchen that was still better than anything he‘d had since childhood. “That wasn’t an invitation to convert me! I just wanted to know why I was being set on fire! Are you listening to me?!”
“Yes, Edward Elric. I hear you quite clearly. And so does the baby.”
“Aw, crap, don’t cry…”
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-15 09:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-15 11:25 pm (UTC)Episode 15 is all kinds of love, mainly the hurting kind.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-16 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-16 03:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-16 04:53 am (UTC)