Mother and Mentor

His hair was soft against her fingers, the bed he was sleeping in, a comfortable cushion that she perched herself on the edge of. Quiet snoring could be heard from the young boy's open mouth, and with her other hand, she clicked his teeth back together; chuckling quietly to herself. This wasn't her first trip to their room, she knew that much, but to what number exactly this travel would raise the tally she hadn't the slightest.

Izumi wondered vaguely why she came to check on the boys so often, though she knew very well that her musing was a formality. It was clear to her why these two young boys had her up so late with maternal worry and gentle concern. Edward and Alphonse were her children, and she felt that same desire that all mothers do to see them comfortable and happy.

Edward's lips twitched, a blissful dream showing happiness on the outside of his mind as well. At that Izumi smiled in return, and continued to stroke his soft blonde hair.

In the sun, she was their teacher; a strict mentor grinding the toughest aspects of science into their young minds, and strengthening their small muscles with the most rigorous of training methods. To say that she enjoyed working them so hard was a lie, but it was the truth that she desired to see them get stronger. And the only way she could attain that view was through long days of studying with punches and kicks, as well as books, in the front yard. It was her duty as their guide to teach them all she could with the best of her ability.

The smile she'd seen him bear faded suddenly, and he shifted under the covers, murmuring something in a pained, incoherent whisper.

But in the light of the moon she was more than merely an instructor. When her children had said their goodnights, and she had told them her own, she felt as so much more than what they'd originally asked her to be. In the quiet darkness, she felt like the mother she'd never gotten the chance to be; in their childish faces, she saw the baby boy she'd never gotten to see past a moment of birth. The love she held for the young brothers went far beyond that of teacher and apprentice, and it was that love that brought her to the edge of his bed-that indelible affection of a mother to her son.

Once again he shuffled uncomfortably in the sheets, shivering at an unseen touch of ice and muttering something into the air above him.

Izumi's slender fingers found the warmth of his cheek, and with a warm smile she hummed the melody of a familiar lullaby she'd been saving for her baby. Instantly she felt his tensing muscles begin to relax and that content grin she hoped for rose with the fading of his nightmare. As she looked down at him, his eyes opened just wide enough to view his pupils; golden pupils that slowly shifted to look up at her.

"Tea…cher…?" Ed murmured groggily, awake enough only to move his eyes and mouth.

"Shh," came a kind hiss to put a hold in her melody. "Everything's all right. Go back to sleep."

Closing more out of pure exhaustion, his eyelids fell shut and he snuggled himself deeper beneath the blankets.

Her son would sleep just fine for the duration of darkness, she was certain now. Slowly, as not to bounce the mattress, she stood up and straightened out her nightgown. With a mother's gentle touch, she pulled the covers up to his neck. Leaning down slowly once she was sure of his comfort, her lips found the center of his small forehead.

"Goodnight, Edward. See you in the morning, my son."