Fanfiction: Framed of Four Elements
Apr. 11th, 2008 09:47 pmTitle: Framed of Four Elements
Fandom: FMA (anime or manga version)
Character(s): Izumi, Sig
Pairing(s): Izumi/Sig
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 400 (i.e. 4 drabbles)
Warnings: Implied spoilers for Izumi's backstory.
A/N: This has been on the drawing board since "The Four Last Things", but I was a lot more nervous about dealing with the central tragedy of Izumi's life than I was Hohenheim's. I'm still not completely convinced this isn't a ghastly act of hubris, but like Odysseus, I can't resist claiming my work in public once it's complete. Concrit welcomed with something better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. Crossposted from
nebroadwe to Höllenbeck (i.e.
hagaren_manga,
fm_alchemist,
fullservicefma,
fma_het,
fma_writers and
fma_fiction).
Dedication: For
fractured_chaos as an early birthday present. Many happy returns!
Fire
Wrapped in groundsheet and blanket under the fallen spruce, she watches a small pyramid of deadwood burn itself to embers at the mouth of her den. Fire is a chancy friend, her teacher said. Kept too close, it smothers; too distant, it pleases only itself -- treated too generously, it gossips, but too stingily, and it writes its discontent in smoke for all the world to see.
A proper fire is the size of your fist, her teacher said. Twice, before and after rapping her knuckles for inattention (will she never learn stray kittens can keep?). The size of your heart.
*
Water
She sits in the tub, breasts half-covered by liquid even her numb flesh can tell has gone tepid. It's the first time she's bathed since -- she pulls her knees toward her chin -- since the last time, when she wallowed from side to side while Sig washed her back, mimicking the movements she felt beneath her heart ...
Her skin drags against the side of the bath as she sinks lower. Water fills her ears without stopping them, just as grief does her mind, and she drums her fingers on the wooden slats in time to the litany of her failure.
*
Air
She walks with Sig to the lakeshore at dusk and looks across at Yock Island. When the wind is in the right quarter, it may bring the sounds of battle to her quick ears: the commotion in the brush that presages a flock of birds taking indignant flight, or even the high-pitched war cries of her two would-be apprentices.
But tonight, all is quiet. The air is sullen, threatening rain, and uncooperative. Frowning, she ponders convection and potential vorticity while heat lightning silhouettes the island's canopy.
"They all right?" Sig asks.
"Of course!" she answers, and turns away.
*
Earth
The long road home is dry as well as lonely; each step raises enough dust to coat her feet to the ankles. She coughs carefully to avoid overstimulating her lungs. If she must faint into the ditch, she'd rather her husband were at hand to haul her out again.
Or, better, join her.
She grins, bending to brush her shoes momentarily clean. One day earth will have her in a bed two paces long and half as wide, but till then she'll keep her favors for a lover whose embrace sweeps her off her feet, not the other way around.
[Acknowledgments: Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) was created by Arakawa Hiromu and is serialized monthly in Shonen Gangan (Square Enix); the anime of the same title was directed by Mizushima Seiji and story-edited by Aikawa Sho. Copyright for these properties is held by Arakawa Hiromu, Square Enix, Mainichi Broadcasting System, Aniplex, Bones, and dentsu. All rights reserved.]
Fandom: FMA (anime or manga version)
Character(s): Izumi, Sig
Pairing(s): Izumi/Sig
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 400 (i.e. 4 drabbles)
Warnings: Implied spoilers for Izumi's backstory.
A/N: This has been on the drawing board since "The Four Last Things", but I was a lot more nervous about dealing with the central tragedy of Izumi's life than I was Hohenheim's. I'm still not completely convinced this isn't a ghastly act of hubris, but like Odysseus, I can't resist claiming my work in public once it's complete. Concrit welcomed with something better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. Crossposted from
Dedication: For
Fire
Wrapped in groundsheet and blanket under the fallen spruce, she watches a small pyramid of deadwood burn itself to embers at the mouth of her den. Fire is a chancy friend, her teacher said. Kept too close, it smothers; too distant, it pleases only itself -- treated too generously, it gossips, but too stingily, and it writes its discontent in smoke for all the world to see.
A proper fire is the size of your fist, her teacher said. Twice, before and after rapping her knuckles for inattention (will she never learn stray kittens can keep?). The size of your heart.
Water
She sits in the tub, breasts half-covered by liquid even her numb flesh can tell has gone tepid. It's the first time she's bathed since -- she pulls her knees toward her chin -- since the last time, when she wallowed from side to side while Sig washed her back, mimicking the movements she felt beneath her heart ...
Her skin drags against the side of the bath as she sinks lower. Water fills her ears without stopping them, just as grief does her mind, and she drums her fingers on the wooden slats in time to the litany of her failure.
Air
She walks with Sig to the lakeshore at dusk and looks across at Yock Island. When the wind is in the right quarter, it may bring the sounds of battle to her quick ears: the commotion in the brush that presages a flock of birds taking indignant flight, or even the high-pitched war cries of her two would-be apprentices.
But tonight, all is quiet. The air is sullen, threatening rain, and uncooperative. Frowning, she ponders convection and potential vorticity while heat lightning silhouettes the island's canopy.
"They all right?" Sig asks.
"Of course!" she answers, and turns away.
Earth
The long road home is dry as well as lonely; each step raises enough dust to coat her feet to the ankles. She coughs carefully to avoid overstimulating her lungs. If she must faint into the ditch, she'd rather her husband were at hand to haul her out again.
Or, better, join her.
She grins, bending to brush her shoes momentarily clean. One day earth will have her in a bed two paces long and half as wide, but till then she'll keep her favors for a lover whose embrace sweeps her off her feet, not the other way around.
[Acknowledgments: Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) was created by Arakawa Hiromu and is serialized monthly in Shonen Gangan (Square Enix); the anime of the same title was directed by Mizushima Seiji and story-edited by Aikawa Sho. Copyright for these properties is held by Arakawa Hiromu, Square Enix, Mainichi Broadcasting System, Aniplex, Bones, and dentsu. All rights reserved.]
no subject
Date: 2008-04-12 03:18 pm (UTC)I wonder: has anyone done training stories about her? I haven't seen any, but I haven't done a thorough search.
Believe it or not, my own
no subject
Date: 2008-04-12 05:13 pm (UTC)