Conjunction

By: Nabuca

Fullmetal Alchemist

December '04

As an alchemist, Edward had a trained eye that was rarely present among the common masses, yet was something that his brother Al understood very well. Most people went about their daily routines as numbly as the cattle that grazed in the fields, taking for granted, for the most part, the dirt under their feet and the movement of the heavenly bodies in the sky above. Yet to Edward everything around him was untapped potential, and if he could not pause to appreciate his own flawed beauty from within, he could at least take time to admire the beauty that blossomed in the world all around him. Even in his younger brother, who was little more than cold metal on the outside, Ed could easily see the scared little boy who dwelled within, and for that Al was always grateful for what little humanity his sad existence accorded him. Edward drew close to the burning fire of that boy's spirit and took comfort in it, warming his own cold and tired being. Together they where as rich as lords, when most things children are familiar with, such as a warm home and motherly love, had long since withered away like old flowers on a grave.

It would be time once again for the brothers to depart from their hometown of Reisenbul. They already had tickets reserved for an early train set to leave tomorrow morning for Central City. The tension at the Rockbell house was so thick you could cut it with a knife and the silence was equally so, bearing the foreboding quality of thunder heads gathering on a stark horizon. Grandma Pinako sat at the head of the table eating silently, her lined and weathered face grim and set. Winry watched her warily from the other end of the table. She could only imagine what was thinking. To the rational mind one would think that she was hoping the boys would decide to forsake their chosen path and return home, but this was no rational situation, and there was no turning back. The painful truth of the matter could be seen just by watching Al sit in his lonely, empty spot at the table, large metal hands folded demurely in his lap, watching the tense proceedings at the dinner table with softly glowing eyes. Next to him sat Ed, head down over his plate, intent on his meal. Winry could clearly see the nervousness in his eyes and...something else. Guilt? It was there, burning deep and steady in those golden eyes, carefully concealed. Winry could see through those defenses, and Ed secretly knew it and silently resented her for it. Whenever their eyes met from across the table, he would quickly flick them back down to his plate, guarded and shameful. She knew it was also the reason why he wore those thick layers of clothes, he wanted people to see him unsullied and pure, a normal boy. But it was all a ruse, and his eyes betrayed it all. They where the eyes of an old man, eyes that had seen enough for a whole lifetime, tired and disillusioned.

Winry watched as he cleaned his plate and headed upstairs to his room, Al following behind him. She noticed that he hadn't bothered to clean up after himself, shook her head and collected the dirty dishes from the table. As she placed them in the washing tub, she could hear his bedroom door shut from upstairs and sighed. Grandma Pinako got up from the table and retreated into her workroom, slamming the door roughly behind her. Soon the sweetish smell of tobacco began to filter from the door. Winry knew that her grandmother had retreated into her own place of solitude, a place of quiet reflection where she could deal with the conflicting thoughts in her mind. Outside, the stars began to slowly peep from their heavenly shroud, the moon softly ascending to her heavenly throne above. Upstairs she could imagine Ed disappearing behind a book or a sheaf of research documents, Al quietly sitting in a corner watching him, or perhaps reading himself. She could feel a heavy, deep feeling in her heart, like lead. It was something she couldn't really put a finger on, or at least not entirely. She crossed the kitchen, opened the front door and proceeded to head out into rolling, hilly fields awash with silver light. She needed to find clarity, and she knew exactly where she could seek it. It was an old and silent ritual to Winry, something secret and sacred, its origin in the pain of deep and terrible loss.

----

Ed sat in on his bed in his room, silently reading over his notes and chewing on the end of his quill. Al sat quietly in the corner, perusing a book. Ed felt relieved that he had managed to survive dinner and escape Grandma Pinako's wrath. He knew that, regardless of his reasons, that she would never be at peace with his choice to become a dog of the military. He knew that her anger was borne out of love for him, but it was something he could never fully acknowledge or appreciate. Not yet. Nothing could get in the way of his path. He was too scared to let these emotions betray him, and yet he secretly craved it. Al knew, he always knew, he could see his brother toss and turn at night, muttering softly in his sleep with tears glistening softly on flushed cheeks. No longer requiring the need for sleep, Al would simply sit and watch, both protective as well as envious, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him, understanding though that he could not feel his brother's softness or warmth, and that the cold touch of his hand would make him uncomfortable. There was so much discomfort in his older brother's life as is, both physical as well as emotional, and he did not wish to increase it due to what he saw as a selfish desire for affection that he would not be able to feel anyway. Right now though, Al was content to sit and watch him read. The thought then occurred to him that Winry had not bothered to come up and wish the two boys goodnight. It was not like her, and he wondered at that. He watched Ed for awhile, wondering if he should disrupt him from his studies with this thought, hesitated, then spoke.

"Winry hasn't come up to say goodnight yet."

Ed laid his papers down on the bed.

"So? She's probably busy in the workroom obsessing over some machine she's taking apart."

Al paused for a moment, considering.

"Maybe." He fidgeted uncomfortably with the book he was reading.

Ed sighed and looked idly out the window, but was surprised with what he saw next. A small form sitting atop the highest hill, awash in the pale light of the full moon, stark yet peaceful. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the window, resting his hands on the windowsill and peering intently out. Al noticed his interest and watched him inquiringly from the corner of the room.

"What is it brother?"

"I...I don't know," Ed replied distractedly. "I think its Winry."

"Winry? What's she doing out there? Its dark out."

"I don't know, Al. I'll be right back," and with that he hurried out the room and down the steps, and soon Al could hear the front door slam. He got up and walked over to the window, wondering.

-----

Winry sat on the cool crisp grass, hugging her knees tightly to herself and staring up at the moon. As long as she could recall she had always been attracted by the moon. Its subtle glow was always healing to her, its soft rays like the gentle touch of the mother she missed so deeply. After the death of her parents, Winry began talking to the moon, be it at her bedroom window or atop the rolling hills. It was ever the silent listener, but she didn't mind. It brought her great comfort unburdening herself, for she never had to worry about it leaking a secret, or criticizing her unjustly. She simply sat and talked, partaking in her sacred ritual under the stars.

"I wonder sometimes if its selfish of me to want him to stay. I always worry that one day he will go too far beyond my reach, and yet I know that at least as long as he has his automail I can still be the person he can come back to. Is it wrong of me to think that way? It probably is. I hope he knows that he always carries a piece of me with him wherever he goes. I hope he knows I made it with love, because dammit if I can't make whole his spirit, at least I might make his body whole. But I feel like he doesn't fully appreciate me, that he takes all this for granted. When he leaves tomorrow, will I ever see him again? Will he ever remember, or know? Or will he be too far gone in his own personal demons to understand that he isn't alone...that he never was...."

Winry buried her head in her knees and wept softly, not realizing that Ed was standing right behind her, watching her the whole time, and listening. He realized that what he had witnessed right now was something sacred and forbidden. Knowing this, he felt a deep stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but it was something that paled in comparison to the explosion of emotion that her words evoked in him. He suddenly felt the urge to reach out with his left hand, to feel the softness of her moonlit hair, and he wondered at that. Deep in the privacy of his own mind and heart, he could not deny that she was unusually beautiful in the moonlight, as frail and as vulnerable as she was sitting before him. Taking a deep breath, he carefully sat down beside her, but she took no notice at first. He gulped deeply and stared up into the sky.

"Uhm...nice night out, huh."

Yeah. Brilliant move.

Winry jumped and gasped with surprise, eyes wide and carrying a look of fear and violation.

"Ed! Oh, Ed you must think I'm so..so.." She stammered, fresh tears leaping into her eyes.

Ed smiled awkwardly, reaching out shyly with his arm and brushing the matted hair from her eyes. Winry jumped at first, it was so strange for Ed to initiate any sort of physical contact. It was something that he distanced himself from, largely out of fear. She saw this as a strange sort of privilege, for him to lay bear a side of him rarely, if ever, seen.

"Ed, I'm so--" he grabbed her wrist sharply with a cold metal hand, striking down the words that still hovered on her lips.

"Winry? Shut up."

And before she had time to react, he leaned forward and their lips locked in a deep kiss. The ritual has changed suddenly, and from a distance Al held witness to this sacred conjunction under the stars. He wanted to feel happy, but all he felt was that much more alone. Lifting his gaze to the moon above, he uttered silent prayers in the cool breeze of the night, feeling his heart become one with the Lady of the Night. And, as quickly as it happened, Ed pulled away and was heading down the hill back to the house, leaving Winry breathless and shaken under the light of the full moon.

The brothers would leave the next morning in that strange dawn-time where the sun and the moon momentarily hang together in the dusky sky. They seemed to Ed like two lovers bearing witness to each other's love from above. As the moon receded over the horizon, the train pulled away from Reisenbul, and as Ed looked out the window he wondered if the sun would miss the presence of the moon when she was gone.