Ten
Feet Tall
A FMA Fanfic
By Jaelle
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it.
Spoilers: None.
Rating: G.
Pairings: None.
Edward Elric always rather enjoyed
the Fuhrer's Birthday celebrations.
Oh,
the speeches were dull as hell, and the formality of the occasion was
annoying, but the flags and decorations were pretty, the parade was
usually fairly enjoyable, and it was the only damn day of the year that
Roy Mustang didn't pick on him. Instead he was polite to Ed all day long
and refrained from smirking, making rude comments, criticising, or even
talking very much to the young Alchemist. For this one special day they
shared a tacit, unspoken truce.
It pleased Ed, to be treated
like an adult in this way. And in return for this consideration, he
kept his head down and his mouth shut, and generally behaved like a
properly brought-up child for the day. He even dragged out his Best
Manners for the occasion, the ones his mother had taught him so long
ago.
The best part of the celebrations,
in his opinion, was
the evening meal. He would sit through the interminable speeches and
boring platitudes, itching with the need to get out and DO something
energetic, and aching to make a snide comment about the pompousness of
age. Instead of doing any of those things however, he would sit
quietly, refusing to wriggle or squirm, until the last old fart sat
down and Roy, as the highest-ranking Officer on base, rose to his feet.
All the other soldiers, and Ed, rose to their feet with him, and as one
raised their glasses high.
"To the Fuhrer!" Roy would announce.
"The
Fuhrer!" They'd all obediently chorus, and drink to his health, Hawkeye
always pausing first to shoot a disapproving look at the wine in Ed's
glass. The first year they'd done this she'd tried to give the then
12-year-old Alchemist fruit juice, but a single curt order from Roy had
seen to it that Ed always got wine like the others. This was most
likely done in recognition of the fact that there was absolutely no way
they could prevent him from simply transmuting any drink they gave him
into something alcoholic, but Ed liked to think that it was an
acknowledgment of his maturity. Consequently he never did anything to
jeopardise the privilege, such as trying to have more than one glass.
He didn't actually like the taste of wine anyway, and would have
preferred juice, but that wasn't really the point.
After the
toast, everyone would quietly eat, and then wait to be dismissed from
the table. At this point the port and cigars would usually come out,
and Ed would quietly head home to Al, who was not invited to the
military celebrations. On the way out, he'd always pass Roy, stationed
by the door, and wish him a good night. Roy would return the
compliment, and then put a hand on Ed's living shoulder and squeeze
gently, before releasing him into the night.
Ed never ever
mentioned that part of the evening to Al. He never told anyone how, in
that one brief moment, he felt as though he was ten feet tall.
End.
Author's Notes:
Despite
the fact that I like Ed/Roy, I always seem to end up writing their
relationship as anything but! In this one we see FatherFigure!Roy and
DesperatetoMakeDadProud!Ed.
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