White Hats, Short Hair.
Selim and Edward's son meet. They talk, and it soon becomes clear that the second generation is different than the former.
Don't own. Random spoilers throughout. Be warned.
Selim wandered through the flower gardens, identifying each one as he went past. In the edge of his vision, he could still see the guards lurking. They were always there, watching. When he first realised that they were ALWAYS there, all day, all night, only watching him, it had been quite creepy. Although, when he was younger, they would stand quite close, but they had gradually been more distant as he grew up. He hoped that meant they were going to stop one day.
Selim awkwardly adjusted the white hat on his head, so that it was further down his forehead. It was unbearably hot, but he didn't want to take the hat off. It hid a red circle on his forehead, and he never liked people staring at it. With his head down and his white hat pulled low over his face, it gave him a uncommonly shifty look, that the adopted son of the wife of the former Fuhrer shouldn't really have, but he didn't care. He wasn't planning on going into the military, anyway. He was only twelve, after all. Plenty of time.
He remembered, when he and Mrs Bradley had shopped for a headband to hide the circle, the only one he had seen and liked was black with a red triangle on the front. It reminded him of someone... something, but he couldn't for the life of him remember who, where or what. He hadn't been allowed to get it though, so Mrs Bradley had quickly suggested buying hats.
When he had seen the white hat, he had the same feeling that he had seen it before... but a different feeling than the other one. He didn't know how to describe it... other than that it was different. Mrs Bradley hadn't opposed his wanting to buy it though, so it was okay. He really shouldn't be so greedy, though.
you're not greedy... you're proud
It was boiling. Selim undid his second-to-the-top button. As he walked along, he came to a bench that was conveniently in the shade. He sat down, tugging down his hat out of habit. He sat there, half-registering footsteps coming towards him, but not really caring.
"White doesn't suit you." A voice suddenly remarked, and Selim looked up in shock.
A boy stood in front of him, hands in pockets, quite close to his own age. He had short gold hair, golden hair and pale skin. He wore a black waistcoat over a black shirt, black shorts and black boots. All the black made his golden eyes stand out, which looked at Selim with curiosity.
that fullmetal kid... the human sacrifice? no...
Selim blinked. "Who are you?" he finally asked.
"Hoenheim Elric," The boy - Hoenheim - answered. "You?"
"Selim Bradley." Selim answered.
Hoenheim walked over and sat beside Selim. "Selim Bradley... Where have I heard that name before?"
"I'm the second one," Selim said. "You might have heard about the first Selim Bradley, that Fuhrer's son that was killed in that coup in Central ages ago?"
"Yes," Hoenheim replied. "That was something I remember the adults talking about, but it was mixed in with words I don't understand, like "Pride" and "Wrath" as names, and "Homunculus", whatever that is."
"Something to do with alchemy?" Selim lightly said.
Hoenheim shrugged. "I suppose. I don't really understand it."
Selim stared at him in shock. "But you're the son of Edward Elric?" he exclaimed.
Hoenheim rolled his eyes. "So what? I'm not interested in alchemy. I'm going to stay in Resembool for the rest of my life. I don't want to go adventuring."
Selim looked away. "That's okay, I guess."
Hoenheim glanced at him. "What are you gonna do?"
"Sorry?"
"What are you going to do when you grow up?"
Selim would have looked at the sky, but his hat would have slipped, so he tugged his hat lower and stared at the ground.
never seeing the sky... never seeing the world for what it is...
It took a while for Selim to answer. "I'm... going to be a writer. Imagine a world at your control... anything can happen. There could be peace, happiness... no one could ever fight or hate again. I don't think I'll ever have a choice in whether I'm going to be adventuring or not... so my characters could adventure for me."
Selim looked sideways, at Hoenheim, and smiled. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah... You know, you shouldn't wear all white. You have black hair and eyes, so white all over the rest isn't good. You should grow your hair longer into a ponytail. A bit of black would be a good contrast, maybe a black tie..."
Selim looked at his outfit, black shoes, white shorts, white shirt with a white waistcoat over it and a white hat. The first two buttons on his shirt were undone. He looked back at Hoenheim, still chattering on about black and white contrast. Selim laughed.
my influence is still strong...
Hoenheim stopped talking and stared at him. Selim stopped laughing. "What?" Selim asked.
Hoenheim fixed his gaze on the flowers instead. "It's just that I didn't think a person like you would laugh like that."
Selim glanced at him. "It's the way you kept on talking about fashion. You have a natural talent for colour coordination. You should be a fashion designer."
Both of them promptly burst out laughing.
Hoenheim wiped tears from his eyes. "Nah," he disagreed. "I'll probably be a mechanic. But you should be an adventurer."
Selim stopped laughing and stared at the ground in surprise.
"You've never been outside Central, right?" Selim nodded. "You should go travel the world, see it's sights. I think you would be good with alchemy. You would like to help people. Also, you would like to be independent, on your own in the big, wide world. You could even go to Xing. You're sharp, you're smart, you probably wouldn't have any training in how to fight, but you could talk your way out. Don't just let your characters live the adventure. Go live it yourself."
go see the world, huh... and still remain relatively innocent? impossible...
Selim was silent. Hoenheim stood up. Selim stood up too.
"I think my family are calling me," Hoenheim said. "I have to go."
"Okay," replied Selim.
"You know," said Hoenheim, facing forwards with his hands in his pockets. "Maybe being a fashion designer wouldn't be so bad."
Selim tugged down his hat and smirked.
As Edward and Roy rounded the corner, Hoenheim started to walk forward. He raised a hand in the air and called back to Selim.
"Till we meet again, Selim Bradley."
Selim tugged down his hat.
"Till we meet again, Hoenheim Elric."
Edward and Roy came closer, looking surprised and wary as they saw Selim and Hoenheim.
Selim waited until they had gone before taking another path back. As he strolled along, he thought about what Hoenheim had said. Go see the world... he thought. I like the sound of that. He smiled, and that night he dreamed of freedom, the desert, and returning to see a old friend running a famous clothes shop in Central, for he was an adventurer.
Back with Hoenheim, things were... well.
"Hi," Hoenheim greeted them.
"Was that Selim Bradley? Did he hurt you? You shouldn't talk to him." Edward said as they walked.
Hoenheim rolled his eyes. "Yes, that was Selim Bradley. No, he didn't hurt me. In fact, he gave me very good advice."
"Advice on what?" Roy asked.
"Well... I think I'm going to become a fashion designer." Hoenheim announced.
Edward and Roy stared at him in horror.
"Right... you're never going to Central again." Edward said faintly.
Hoenheim shrugged. "That's alright with me. I'm content to stay in Resembool... with my own clothes shop. Anyway, I bet when Selim travels the world, he'll come to Resembool first."
Roy was suddenly alert. "What do you mean, travelling the world?" he asked, suspicious.
Hoenheim put his hands in his pockets. "He's going to travel the world someday, I just know it," he said happily. "He's human after all, and humans want to see new places sometimes. He's not like me, utterly content to stay in one place. He's only been in Central all his life. He'll travel the world, and when he returns, I bet he'll write a few books and be off again." He suddenly stopped. "Though, if someone taught him alchemy, he'd be excellent at it. He's probably even be the Fuhrer one day. Indeed, between me and him, if he does become Fuhrer, we could probably get all the female officers to wear miniskirts for a week." He glanced at Roy, who, despite being Fuhrer, had not been able to persuade the female officers to wear miniskirts for even a day.
"How do you know he'll be allowed outside Central, even with a guard?" Edward asked.
"What has he ever done to deserve no freedom?" Hoenheim retorted. "He's human. He needs to be free."
That's right, Edward realised. He had been raised as a human, and thought he was one. He deservedfreedom, even if he did convince his son to be a fashion designer. And was (unknowingly) a Homunculus.
That night, as Hoenheim slept in a guest room in the Fuhrer's house, he dreamt of a life running a famous clothes shop in Central. A man suddenly appeared from the desert, a man in white and black travelling clothes, with long black hair in a ponytail and white hat, and he smiled, because he was a dreamer.
A/N: I love spell check. This was just a drabble about Kimbley, Selim II and Hoenheim II. Oh, and what Hoenheim meant by 'between me and him' was like our combined forces. That italic writing with no punctuation was Kimbley speaking inside Selim's mind (but Selim doesn't hear it). I believe that Kimbley is still in Selim's philosopher's stone. Selim must have a few souls left, and Kimbley is too strong to die. Kimbley is influencing Selim, until the day when he will take over. Hopefully Hoenheim will stop him. Oh, yes and the whole 'Hoenheim as fashion designer' was meant to be a joke, but then I liked the sound of it. And Hoenheim's sister will be called Trisha. Reason? I HATE OC'S NAMES, SPECIALLY CHILDREN OF CHARACTERS NAMES. So, I named them after Ed's parents. Oh, wait, should I have named them after Winry's parents? Oh well.
The reason why I wrote this was that I keep on seeing fic's featuring Ed's children on mighty adventures, basically just copies of him. What if they're different from their parents? What if they're not like Ed and not like Winry? What if they're not like anyone and are they're own person? What if they're the type to wait around at home while their friends go save the world? That was what I thought.
But, to everyone who was reading this for another adventure fic, Trisha II travelled the world for a bit, before becoming a mechanic. Oh, and I always see Ed's children as prodies and become State Alchemists at nine or whatever. What if they don't WANT to become State Alchemists?