A/N:
this was ultimately inspired by yuuba's edwin mermaid au fanart on tumblr (also the cover image for this work, and all credit goes to yuuba). hence the mixing of modern/mermaid. and because really, every ship needs a mermaid au, alright (why else would you be here, tbh). the general world building can be left to some interpretation because of this particular form of au (which can generally be pulled from the fanart), and i encourage you to have fun with it! it's written almost like a string of drabbles, which isn't typically my writing style, so please excuse any mishaps in advance. dedicated to all those swept up in this au, especially to oceane, caitlin & cassidy. c;
i hope this fulfils some mermaid au desires for the time being, and i hope i get to write more soon!
disclaimer: unfortunately no, i do not own fma or it's characters. cover image belongs to yuuba tumblr
The small town of Reseembool is known to be a melting pot for Amestrian myths and legends. Despite the modern age, the town has kept its medieval charm of superstition and enigma over the years, resistant to industrial change. Storytellers delight in telling locals and tourists alike of the strange creatures hidden in the caves just past the wheat fields, and swear that a living shadow dwells deep within Reseembool's abandoned coal mines. For centuries sailors have claimed the dark water of the bay host terrible monsters, made up of overgrown sea urchins that devour small children, infamous water dragons, and most mysterious, the melancholy songs of the mermaids.
Edward Elric can only scoff at such fairytales. Monsters are made of man's greed, sea urchins are the equivalent of sea hedgehogs, dragons are the result of faulty reasoning, and mermaids? Mermaids don't exist.
He is ultimately wrong, of course.
Ed doesn't believe in luck or fate, so he sticks with the scientific term, chance.
And that is exactly how they meet.
He walks the cliffside alone, dangerously close to the edge, and yet not quite caring about the drop or the ferocity of the building wind. It's all just white noise, which he gratefully needs, and the sharp salty air is welcomed. Behind him lies the path back to Reseembool and his house, where his father's abrupt and unwanted return waits for him like lead in his stomach.
Frustrated at his predicament and no-good-father, Ed kicks out, which lets loose a rubble of rocks and sand into the ocean. Instinctively his eyes follow the trail down, furiously stuffing his fists into his pockets. It takes him a few moments to realize that what he's staring is not simply water, and he blinks, momentarily distracted from his thoughts. He squints below him at the dark waves, and a glitter of green catches the weak sunlight. Briefly, the shine reminds him of the reflective scales of fish, and his eyes widen in intrigue.
(It's because they are.)
Several minutes pass with nothing but the whistling of wind, the crashing of waves, and the glittering mirage just out of reach. His eyes stay transfixed below, ignoring the insistent snap of his coat in the wind, or the rapid beating of his heart. Immediately his mind draws reasonable conclusions; it's the underbelly of some large fish, or an illusion of light hitting the bottom of the sea. But something pricks at the corner of his consciousness, which makes it impossible to turn away. He's never seen anything like this before, either at the fish market or on the beach. It's as if each scale is fixed together with ribboning gold thread-
"Brother!" A voice startles him, and Ed pulls his gaze from below in surprise. Alphonse Elric trudges up the steep path towards him, his face bent towards the wind in a grimace. Forgetting their current disposition, and the probability that Al is probably there to retrieve him, Ed points excitedly at the water, calling to his brother to hurry.
"Quick, Al, you've got to see -" But there is nothing, and the illusion of light has disappeared. All that is left is the crashing of waves against the jagged black rocks, and the pale luminosity of the current is now dark and foreboding. Ed stares, momentarily at a loss. It isn't long until Al coughs politely, a small smile easing up at the corners of his mouth. And because he's his younger brother, and because he knows how Ed feels about their town's superstitious tales, innocently slips a passing comment.
Ed scoffs automatically - naturally - punching his brother in the arm as Al laughs. "Don't be a fucking idiot," Because there is no such thing as goblins, ghosts, monsters and least of all, something as silly as mermaids. Intelligence and reason outweighs any myth or legend.
However, he's quiet as he regards the ocean for a few minutes more, before he reluctantly agrees to make the trek back home.
She watches him curiously from her crooked rock, far enough out to sea for the foam to hide her tangled mass of blonde hair. Winry tilts her head to the side, her brow and lips puckered in thought. Behind her, the shine of her green scales flicker in the setting sun, just as a white spray overturns her perch.
Too close, and yet, not close enough, she thinks.
The next time they meet she saves him.
He was too careless this time. Too reckless.
Edward's listless body floats further down, the surrounding darkness of the sea enveloping him in her open arms. His golden hair catches at the filtered light from above, and his bright yellow coat shimmers like a cloud of school fish. The sea is quiet beneath the waves compared to the roar of the storm above, and there is a stillness as he sinks deeper, unconscious under the slight sway of the current.
He continues to sink, further and further, down, down ...
She catches him in her bare arms, tugging his weight upwards, towards the surface. He's heavier than she expected, and her fingers press into his back, grasping clumsily at the slippery material of his coat. Her actions bring their faces close together, and for a moment she's transfixed by his peaceful expression, his lashes fluttering, mouth her, he's the epitome of sublime mystery. He's the myth and legend that's been whispered around coves and the fear that lives in the shadows of their ships; the humans. And here, in her home, under the wrestling spray above, he's joined her for a split moment of watery oblivion.
There was something else, something crucial about humans that separated them from the merfolk. More than the physical trait of legs instead of fins.
A bubble escapes his lips, immediately breaking the spell.
Humans drown.
He was dying.
The blonde mermaid strains towards the surface again, mustering her strength to carry him towards safety. Together they shimmer in the pale light of the storm, her tail sparking green and gold as they shoot upwards. A few curious fish watch as they travel, hidden in the shadows and sway of the deep seaweed.
Together they break the waves, and a furious onslaught of rain meets them with equal force. Beside her, he remains silent and limp in her arms. She shouts against the wind, but her words are lost in the storm. Confusion washes over her, until she realizes she might be too late.
Edward wakes to the sound of seagulls, the soft roll of waves against the sand, and the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. It thrums throughout his body, and he melts into its touch, hand reaching up to catch onto what holds him under its spell. Eyes tightly shut, his hands find soft hands, tentative and shy, which threaten to move the moment he encircles them. "Don't," He murmurs, feeling a peculiar warmth stretch up from within. The hand stills, and he feels, rather than sees, a moments worth of hesitation, before it settles back to its former place, caressing the space between his face and ear.
Lazily he opens his eyes, squinting in the sudden and intense sunlight which spills from the clouds. It illuminates the figure positioned above him, their face cast in shadow except for the whiteness of their hair, falling off their shoulders in soft, spiralling tendrils. And the eyes, a resonating blue that stares back at him inquisitively, reminds him fleetingly of Al's stray cats. They stare at one another for a few more seconds; Ed's relaxed euphoria slowly ebbing away as his eyes trail the curve of her lips as she finishes the last few lines of song.
The pieces start to fall into place, and his mind accelerates out of its contented drowsiness.
His face flushes crimson as his mind registers the curve of her waist, the dent of her belly button, and the swell of her breasts half hidden in .. seaweed? His eyes widen, and his voice is caught in his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he notices something, something green, as if each scale is fixed together with ribboning gold thread-
Ed's jaw goes slack, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. He blinks once, twice, three times, and the tail is still there, happily swishing across the sand. It's her laugh that captures his attention, and he looks back at her, at this impossible being, who seems both as enchanting and dangerous as a shimmering mirage. He jerks away automatically, his hands filling with sand as he makes a grab to steady himself. She tilts her head to the side, regarding him thoughtfully, and it isn't until moments later he realizes she's staring at his automail.
But that doesn't matter because there is a fucking mermaid sitting right in front of him.
Her tail keeps making a fwip fwip noise as she apprises him, a curious, excited look overtaking her features. The next words she tells him barely register until he realizes she's waiting for his response. He coughs, clears his throat, and says a rather ungraceful, "Huh?" His voice is scratchy even to his own ears.
Although she is slightly annoyed to repeat herself, it's clear she's too excited to really care. Her words are broken Amestrian at best, and there is a lilt to her speech as if she hasn't spoken in a long time. The fact she even speaks Amestrian is surprising, and he stares, his mouth open like - ironically - a fish.
She starts with a story; it's short and well, rather sad, and it isn't until the very end that he realizes there is a point to it all. It's then he finds out that when a mermaid saves a human life, said human is indebted to them, and in an act of equivalent exchange, the debt must be paid in full. A wave of familiarity washes over him as he stares at her, and something turns in his gut from memory. He isn't quite sure if he's dreaming, or even dead for that matter, but the sand in his clenched fists feels real enough. Fwip fwip.
"You want me to what?" He manages, and feels his head start to swim.
She tells him again, this time gesturing beyond the beach, towards the sleepy town of Reseembool.
Her request is for him to show him his world, the human world, as their act of equivalent exchange.
At first he challenges her, but she remains stubborn in her request. He changes tactic, and convinces himself he's dreaming, he's half dead somewhere three miles down the beach, probably covered in seaweed and missing his automail. Al's frantic and he's already found six stray cats in his efforts to find him. He pinches himself, but no such luck. Doesn't prove anything, he tells himself, If I'm not dreaming, I'm hallucinating.
She warns him at first, about the consequences of denying a mermaid her request, and worse, refusing the debt. Again he brushes it off as a dream, vehemently repeats this fact to her, and stumbles away with every intention to leave, or more importantly, wake up. If he was to even admit to this being real, it would mean a compromise of his beliefs, not to mention a horrifying smug encounter with the local storyteller. He isn't about to swallow his pride, nor his sense of spiritual (or lack of) security just yet. No matter how pretty cute fishy this girl looked.
It's then he learns quickly that there is some sort of freaky mermaid mojo going on, and he immediately gets a pain, a severe tugging sensation in his abdomen, the first ten meters he gets. She shrugs as if to say I told you so, and he scowls, and curses the way his eyes linger for far too long on her face. Curses the way she smiles in triumph, and hates the way it makes his stomach flip. It appears they're tied together, and it isn't hard to figure out what comes next. He slaps his hand over his face, running his fingers down in an exaggerated fashion of defeat.
He slings her unceremoniously over his shoulder.
"Aren't you supposed to trade your voice for legs?" He mutters, and there is a soft 'hmmph' over her shoulder as she gives him a good whack. And although she's not particularly fond of the position, she's momentarily fascinated by his walk, and more importantly, his legs.
When they cross the beach and into the tall grasses, she makes a soft audible gasp, and is instantly enamoured by the stalks of green. She reaches out to touch at them, comparing the texture with the trees of seaweed she's used to. Ed throws a look over his shoulder, shifting his hands awkwardly around her tail - he tries not to think too much on the word tail - so he can catch a glimpse of her expression. Her nearly trips in one of the puddles left over from the storm, and she twists up to look at him, her face coloured in childlike delight.
His face grows red, and he quickly turns away, wondering his reckless decision to walk the cliffs in the storm was worth it.
(It will be.)
The first night she stays in their bathtub.
It's immensely difficult to sneak a fully grown mermaid into the house, and for once he's thankful his father pays no attention. He throws her in the tub, even when her eyes flare and mouth opens in protest, and quickly shushes her before promising to be back. Of course Al would take the first opportunity to confront him just outside the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed furiously as he demands Ed tell him where he's been. He takes in his damp clothes, his straggly hair, and his eyes widen in understanding.
"Don't tell me you were down at the cliffs during that storm, Ed. Please don't tell me you were such an idiot!"
"Shut up," Ed's face heats, and he feels a guilty stab as he recognizes the worry in his brother's voice. "I was at the pub." He lies, and moves in front of the bathroom door in what he hopes is inconspicuous. Al's eyes instantly lock on to the movement, and it's clear he doesn't believe him for a moment.
"What's in there." He asks slowly.
"Nothing."
"What's in the bathroom, brother." Al asks again, and reaches a hand around Ed. He quickly swats it away.
"I said nothing - now will you leave it alone, okay?" It's no use, and Ed, after a staring contest with his littler brother, relents. How was he supposed to hide something like this to his brother? If there was one person in the world he was going to tell anything to - including mermaids - it would be Al.
He sighs, and runs an agitated hand through his hair.
"Fine, fine. You were going to find out anyways. Maybe you'll tell me there's nothing there and I've swallowed too much sea water."
Al glances at him strangely, and if he wasn't already opening the door, Ed is sure his brother would have asked further.
In this case, Al is rendered speechless for a good five minutes, closing and opening the door three times, before finally going into the bathroom and meeting the blonde mermaid. He keeps looking back at Ed as if there is some sort of punchline, but Ed can only shrug. So it's not a dream after all.
It's another good hour before everything is explained, Ed is scolded for his carelessness - although it seems a bit hollow, given the predicament - and Al is updated on Ed's so-called debt. Al readily accepts to keep their secret, taken with the young mermaid, who finally introduces herself as Winry.
(Ed was expecting something along the lines of Shelly. When he says this, Winry looks offended.)
"You never asked her for her name?" Al looks a his brother, horrified.
"She never asked for mine!" Ed counters, and Al quickly apologizes in his stead.
In the end, Ed thinks Al is taking this a little too well. Al only shrugs in defence, "I've never been as pessimistic as you, brother."
Winry seems, of course, enchanted with his younger brother, who is bursting with questions. Questions Ed realizes have been on the tip of his tongue, but his stubbornness has gotten the best of him. Al patiently talks her through his inquiries while Ed glowers from his position on the counter.
(She's been living in the surrounding bay area for years now. No, she's never been on land like this before. Yes, she can communicate similarly with fish and people - can't humans? - and yes, she saved Ed's life with something known only to mermaids.)
It isn't long, however, until the conversation goes to Ed's automail, and he catches that excited look again in her eyes. He evades most of the questions, and absently tugs at his sleeves to cover the gleam of metal. Al's eyes softens, and Ed uncomfortably shifts under her attention. He coughs awkwardly, interjects he should get some sleep, that they both should, that he nearly died, remember, and makes an attempt to get her settled. He sees she's disappointed, but makes an effort to ignore it. Instead, he tells her he's in the room over, and to knock on the wall should she need anything. Under no circumstances was she to attempt to leave the bathroom otherwise, and he explains a brief rendition of their arrangement with their father. Additionally, he doesn't think her tail could take on the tile floor, not unless she was half octopus.
Winry, as he is already guessing, isn't too happy about this arrangement nor comment, and sticks out her chin. She ducks her head underwater seconds after.
When they leave her at last, Al starts to make plans, discussing ways to hide her from their father while also taking into consideration how Ed was going to gain his freedom. He seems rather amused by his inability to leave her.
"That means you can't leave her in the bathtub all the time," He says with a pointed look.
Honestly, as if he expects for her to stay in his room.
"Yeah, yeah."
(She will in time.)
A pause.
"Mermaids, huh." Al lets out a shaky laugh.
"Mermaids." Ed replies dryly, not without irony.
Winry's eyes can't seem to drink everything in fast enough; the sights, the sounds, the smells, even the air tastes different this far from the sea. It's as overwhelming as it is thrilling, and she feels like she won't ever get a chance to experience it all. And the humans - the humans are not what she has expected. Bright gold eyes, the colour of her favourite fish, limbs made of metal ... Her fingers itch to unravel it, to see how it works. She's never seen anything like it before, and the desire to know more is almost obsessive.
But now that she's alone in the dark, the whistle of wind blowing through the cracks in the foundation, Winry starts to feel the crushing realization of what she's done. And she's scared.
The items on the counter grow shadows, the scratches on the edge of the tub dig into her palms, and the lack of water all around her terrifies her. The confidence from before fades with each moment of silence, and her tail flicks nervously.
She jumps at the sound of thunder, the eerie and unfamiliar echo vibrating through the house. Winry ducks down under the water of the tub, but it's too small, claustrophobic compared to the great vastness of the sea. She feels the pricks of panic seize her, and braces her hands on either side of the tub.
This is what you want, she reminds herself.
(She can feel the pull of the sea, missing her.)
You want this.
(It calls her back.)
The rain comes again that night, and it pounds against the glass of his window. A lesser, follow up storm.
Unsurprisingly, Ed can't sleep. He closes his eyes and the suffocating feeling returns, the repressed trauma of drowning resurfacing from the depths of his subconscious. His thoughts then drift to the impossible made possible; the girl in the room over. His vaguely defined debt. It's too surreal to contemplate logically.
There's a soft, tentative knock, that had he been sleeping, Ed wouldn't have heard.
Immediately his eyes lock onto the wall separating their rooms, and in seconds he's off his bed, two more until he's at the bathroom door. He hesitates, hand hovering over the knob, before murmuring a soft curse and easing the door open. Ed doesn't know what to say when he sees her, and neither does she, and he stands in the shadows doorway while the sound of the rain drums against the roof. Winry sits with her arms hugged around her tail, and she looks so miserable, Ed averts his eyes. A voice that tells him this is his opportunity to wiggle out of his deal, or whatever they have, but he almost doesn't have half the heart to do it when she's looking like that. Fuck it, he's not going to have a sad looking mermaid cry in his tub.
"You okay?" He asks, although it's clear she's not. He sits down next to the tub and awkwardly folds his legs under him, and clears his throat uncomfortably. "The uh, water is alright?" He waves at the bathwater, and she cups a handful absently, nodding her head.
He watches her, but when she says nothing, he sighs.
"You can always back out of our deal, you know." Ed tells her, his eyes flashing a rich luminosity in the dark. Winry's head jerks towards him, and he knows it was not right thing to say.
"Don't think you're getting out of your debt so easily -" She starts to tell him crossly, her voice rising, and he can't help but smirk.
" - Okay, okay, I get it; no mountain or storm will weaver you." He raises his hands in a symbol of defeat. "Just asking." She leans back down in the tub, eying him suspiciously. He can't help but think he's hardened her resolve, no matter what she's feeling.
The thunder grows louder, and Ed shivers instinctively. The storm seems to be unsettling her too, and they unconsciously pull closer together, parted by the lip of the tub.
Fwip, fwip. Her tail distracts him once again.
"Ed?" Her voice is soft.
"Yeah?"
"What do humans," She pauses, searching for the right word. "What do humans do when they feel ..." It's clear she doesn't want to say anything she's thinking, or rather, feeling.
" - Hungry?" Ed supplies with light sarcasm. Their eyes meet briefly, and he shrugs before he looks away, one finger tracing the edge of the water. "Read, or well, yeah, I read." He answers her unspoken question.
"Read," She repeats her herself. He wonders if she even knows what that means.
"Do you know how?"
She shakes her head, and he can tell it frustrates her.
"I'll teach you." He promises before he catches himself. Damn, already making promises. Her eyes light up, and it suddenly feels worth it. "We'll start tomorrow." Because he can't seem to stop making them with her eyes on him like that. He can already feel the mood shift in the room, and she slips her head halfway beneath the water, hiding her smile.
They sit together like that for what feels like hours more, but must only be minutes. In the silence and darkness of the encroaching shadows, he finally says what's been bothering him ever since they got home. What he meant to say back at the beach.
"Winry? Uh, thanks for saving me."
A/N: hope you enjoyed! it's my first time really writing these guys, so i hope i did them some justice. winry will have more of a speaking role later on, especially when she gets practice with the language (and a wrench soon enough).