Tokens of Her Esteem
S J Smith
Word Count: 494
Rating: K+
Characters: Edward, Hohenheim (Ed/Winry implied)
Summary: Who knew six pieces of silver might mean so much?
Disclaimer: Sekritly, I put on a cow suit and fight crime at night…er, not really.
Warning: Spoilers for the gaiden, "Simple People", chapter 72, "Negative Consequences – Positive Consequences" and beyond.
Series: Manga
A.N.: Thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits. Written for the live journal community, "FMA Fic Contest" for the prompt "talisman".
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"What have you got there?"
Edward jumped, whirling around, his hand clenched tight and trembling though he couldn't have said it was in rage or something else. "Stop sneaking up on me like that!" he howled, going with rage. Anger was easy and the old man was a perfect target.
"I'm not sneaking." The light from the fire caught on the lenses of his glasses then Hohenheim raised his head and the weird demonic cast to his face vanished. "I said your name twice." His mouth curled faintly. "You seemed to be," he cast around for a word, "entranced with whatever's in your hand."
Eyes narrowing, Edward managed to shove his fist in his pocket rather than into his bastard father's face. "Just thinking."
"Really?" Hohenheim's smile widened. "About a girl?" He gestured at Edward's pocket. "Those are earrings, aren't they?" He leaned a little closer. "Winry's earrings?"
"What if they are?" And Edward had to spare a thought as he snarled that out as to how the bastard knew they were Winry's. Who'd told? Alphonse? Winry? Neither of them would have, would they?
The bastard completely ignored Edward's question, sighing, obviously off in his own thoughts. "I know what it's like, a lovely girl giving you a token of her esteem, a favor of hers for you to carry into battle."
"Wait, no! It's not like that!" Edward stumbled over his protests, horrified that the old man would've dreamed up that crap.
The smile that lit the old man's face was indulgent and bittersweet. "I hope for your sake, son, it is." He raised his hand, almost as if he would tousle Edward's hair, then walked past him, his palm falling back at his side.
Edward frowned after Hohenheim, unconsciously fingering the bits of silver. When he, Al and Winry were little, their moms had read them the same fairy tales about ladies and the knights who fought for them. The ladies gave tokens to the knights, to urge them on to greatness with the simple reminder that someone was thinking of them as they rode off to battle. Was that part of the reason Winry had given the earrings to him in Briggs? She could've just tucked them in her coat, right? She could've. And he could've given them back to her in Rezembool – but he didn't. And now, Winry's earrings rode in his pocket, a physical link to her.
Pulling out the earrings again, Edward studied the six tiny pieces of silver. He'd bought them on a whim, as a way to keep Winry from beating him senseless for screwing up her automail. Now, they were the reminder of the promise he'd made to the girl back home – that he would fight, that he would live, that he would return to her. Not just his promise but hers, too – that she'd wait for him.
Until then, he'd have to prove himself worthy of that honor, the best way he knew how.
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