A/N: Hey all, long time no see. Check out my profile if you want my excuse. If not, please enjoy the story.
Just a little pointless something I came up with while shoveling snow…for the millionth time.
Obligatory Legal Crap: I own nothing. Literally.
The Origin of Flame
"Son," Thomas Mustang said, squaring his shoulders and looking at his nine year-old son with a serious expression. "Today you will make an important step towards manhood."
Under a bundle of warm clothes, Roy looked at his father and attempted to talk around the warm, snugly fit wool scarf that his mother had wrapped just slightly too tight around his young face. "Whmph?"
"Roy, as a man you hold certain responsibilities in the household that are done in order to protect and care for your family. Usually, they are simple tasks. However, this one takes quite a bit of effort."
Roy felt the first traces of foreboding as he looked out at the snowy landscape and then back at his father. It was then that he noticed what his father was leaning on. Schooling his features into his best puppy dog look, he glanced back at his father. Unfortunately, the knit cap, hood, and scarf obscured too much of his face and the expression went unnoticed by the elder Mustang.
"I know it's unpleasant, but it must be done, and the sooner you start, the sooner you'll be done."
Without another word, Roy's father handed him the shovel and began the trek back to the house. Roy stood, glancing between the snowy drive and walkway and his father, silently pleading for the man to turn back. His heart leapt as Thomas paused at the door and looked back at him.
"Roy, try not to get too close to the edge of the walk and tear up the lawn, would you?"
And with that, Thomas Mustang disappeared into the inviting warmth of the house. Roy stood a moment more, then, turning back to the seemingly endless expanse of white, he let out a curse and began shoveling.
******
An hour later, tired, hot and sore, Roy looked over his work with a small amount of pride. The drive and walkways leading to the front door and garage were clear (with only hints of dirt where he had accidentally nicked the edge of the lawn). He had even managed to clear the sidewalk up to the property line. Satisfied and hungry, he placed the shovel back in the garage and made sure to stamp his boots off before entering the house. Quickly shedding his wet clothes, he hurried to the kitchen where he heard his mother preparing lunch and eagerly awaited his reward.
With a soft smile, his mother placed a bowl of hot soup and a sandwich in front of him, along with two fresh cinnamon cookies.
"Looks like you did a pretty good job, son," his father remarked proudly as he entered the kitchen and sat at the table.
"Thanks, Papa," Roy smiled around a bite of sandwich.
Shortly after Roy polished off his lunch, he sat back and enjoyed the cozy warmth of the kitchen and the soft conversation between his parents. Far more tired than he thought, he began to drift off to sleep in his chair when the sound of two sets of feet came clambering into the room. Roy opened his eyes to glare at two of his sisters as their chatter interrupted his nap.
"Oh look!" the eldest sister exclaimed, pointing out the window "It's snowing again!"
Barely managing to suppress a groan, Roy slunk out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.
******
Two days and four more shoveling excursions later, Roy tromped back in the house and stiffly made his way to the living room. Sinking in front of the fireplace, he stretched and looked at the various family members scattered around the room. His father sat reading in his favorite chair, his mother sat by the window mending a pair of pants, and Elena, his eldest sister, sat chatting with a guest Roy recognized as Richard, an alchemy student his father had been tutoring.
"Have you decided on whether or not you'll take the military exam to be a State Alchemist?" Elena asked Richard.
"The exams are coming up in a few months," Thomas commented, putting his book aside. "If you decide that's the way to go, you'll need to study even harder to be ready in time."
"I haven't made any final decisions yet," the young man answered. "What do you think, Roy? What would you do, if you were me?"
Blinking at his sudden inclusion in the conversation, Roy enthusiastically answered, "I would. I've been thinking a lot about it too, especially since Papa has been letting me study his books."
Thomas tried not to cringe when he glanced at his wife, who had stopped her task to glare at her husband.
"Oh? And what type of alchemy would you specialize in?" Richard asked.
Roy contemplated quietly for a few moments, debating on whether or not to bring the subject up. He had two or three areas of interest, and one wasn't much of a choice, considering it was one that many considered borderline taboo. He became distracted when his mother sighed.
"Oh dear," she said as she glanced out the window. "It's started to snow again."
Looking despondently out the window at the fat flakes falling from the sky, Roy's answer was suddenly and startlingly clear.
"Fire," he firmly stated. "I'm going to learn fire alchemy." Just so I never have to shovel snow again.
*End*