Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2006-01-19 12:49 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2006-01-19 12:49 pm
100_women fic: Maternal Instincts
Title: Maternal Instincts
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theladyfeylene
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character: Trisha Elric
Prompt: 012, tears
Word Count: 613
Rating: G
Summary: There's nothing stronger than a mother's need to protect and care for her children. For my darlingmikazuki, who requested something with Trisha being a mother and the prompt 'tears'.
It was snowing hard outside. Trisha stood by the window, a slight frown turning down the corners of her mouth. She could dimly make out the two small, dark shapes of her children as they played outside. She was loathe to call them in, but the weather was growing worse and she feared that the storm would reach dangerous levels.
Sighing, Trisha opened the front door, the snow whirling around her as the wind sought entrance into the house.
“Edward! Alphonse! Time to come in!” They were going to be dripping wet and freezing. She turned away to return to the kitchen, intending to heat a saucer of milk for cocoa. But a small and startled cry rose about the howling wind and Trisha turned on her heel as though pulled by a string. There was one small figure standing on the steps and one sprawled at the bottom.
“Alphonse!” Barefoot and coatless, Trisha ran out into the snow, her feet burning from the cold. The snow bit at her bare skin and her teeth were chattering within seconds. She stumbled down the steps, the painful wailing of her son sounding high above the wailing of the wind. Trisha slid on the steps, falling to her knees and immediately gathering Al up in her arms. He was cold as ice.
“He just fell!” Ed supplied, wide eyed as his mother.
“It’s so icy out here it’s a wonder you didn’t both fall.” It was freezing out. Trisha held Al close to her, her voice distant. She was struggling to keep the fear out of it. Children fell all the time. But it was her child.
“Come on. Inside.” She hauled herself to her feet using the porch railing, her knees stinging. The snow had soaked through her house dress already, plastering it to her skin. She carried Al up into the house with laboured and aching steps. Ed followed along silently behind.
“Alright, here we are.” Still wet and hurting, Trisha set Al down in a chair and knelt before him. “You’re not bleeding,” she said, pulling off his boots and rolling up his trouser legs. “But that’s a nasty bruise.” Her voice was tinged with desperate relief, her fear melting away with the snow that clung to her hair and dress.
Ed was hanging behind her, fretting and fussing with his own worries. Al was whimpering, red faced and teary eyed.
“You’re alright,” Trisha assured him, wiping at his face with her fingers. “It was just a little spill, that’s all.” She hugged him again, her heart beating fast. He’d sounded as though he were dying, and she had feared the worst. She almost laughed at herself, running out in bare feet into a snow storm!
“Mom? Are you crying?” Al sniffed, and Trisha did laugh now.
“I’m just happy you’re alright, that’s all.” She sat back and wiped her eyes, feeling silly. All this over one bruise. And she'd gotten Ed all worked up over nothing! “You boys get those wet clothes off, and I’ll have cocoa ready for you. And be careful.”
“Yes mom!” they both said at once, Al’s bruise already forgotten with the promise of cocoa. Trisha scrubbed at her eyes once more as her boys bounded upstairs already laughing, Al limping slightly on his bruised leg. They were so small, so fragile looking. How could she not worry about them the way she did? There would be plenty more falls and scrapes and most likely a broken limb or two. It was unavoidable, really. Children hurt themselves, no matter how closely they were watched or protected.
Sighing, Trisha wrapped a robe around her own wet dress and got out the milk, wondering if it ever got any easier. Somehow, she doubted it. But that was alright, really. It was just part of being a mother.
Author:
theladyfeyleneFandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character: Trisha Elric
Prompt: 012, tears
Word Count: 613
Rating: G
Summary: There's nothing stronger than a mother's need to protect and care for her children. For my darling
mikazuki, who requested something with Trisha being a mother and the prompt 'tears'.It was snowing hard outside. Trisha stood by the window, a slight frown turning down the corners of her mouth. She could dimly make out the two small, dark shapes of her children as they played outside. She was loathe to call them in, but the weather was growing worse and she feared that the storm would reach dangerous levels.
Sighing, Trisha opened the front door, the snow whirling around her as the wind sought entrance into the house.
“Edward! Alphonse! Time to come in!” They were going to be dripping wet and freezing. She turned away to return to the kitchen, intending to heat a saucer of milk for cocoa. But a small and startled cry rose about the howling wind and Trisha turned on her heel as though pulled by a string. There was one small figure standing on the steps and one sprawled at the bottom.
“Alphonse!” Barefoot and coatless, Trisha ran out into the snow, her feet burning from the cold. The snow bit at her bare skin and her teeth were chattering within seconds. She stumbled down the steps, the painful wailing of her son sounding high above the wailing of the wind. Trisha slid on the steps, falling to her knees and immediately gathering Al up in her arms. He was cold as ice.
“He just fell!” Ed supplied, wide eyed as his mother.
“It’s so icy out here it’s a wonder you didn’t both fall.” It was freezing out. Trisha held Al close to her, her voice distant. She was struggling to keep the fear out of it. Children fell all the time. But it was her child.
“Come on. Inside.” She hauled herself to her feet using the porch railing, her knees stinging. The snow had soaked through her house dress already, plastering it to her skin. She carried Al up into the house with laboured and aching steps. Ed followed along silently behind.
“Alright, here we are.” Still wet and hurting, Trisha set Al down in a chair and knelt before him. “You’re not bleeding,” she said, pulling off his boots and rolling up his trouser legs. “But that’s a nasty bruise.” Her voice was tinged with desperate relief, her fear melting away with the snow that clung to her hair and dress.
Ed was hanging behind her, fretting and fussing with his own worries. Al was whimpering, red faced and teary eyed.
“You’re alright,” Trisha assured him, wiping at his face with her fingers. “It was just a little spill, that’s all.” She hugged him again, her heart beating fast. He’d sounded as though he were dying, and she had feared the worst. She almost laughed at herself, running out in bare feet into a snow storm!
“Mom? Are you crying?” Al sniffed, and Trisha did laugh now.
“I’m just happy you’re alright, that’s all.” She sat back and wiped her eyes, feeling silly. All this over one bruise. And she'd gotten Ed all worked up over nothing! “You boys get those wet clothes off, and I’ll have cocoa ready for you. And be careful.”
“Yes mom!” they both said at once, Al’s bruise already forgotten with the promise of cocoa. Trisha scrubbed at her eyes once more as her boys bounded upstairs already laughing, Al limping slightly on his bruised leg. They were so small, so fragile looking. How could she not worry about them the way she did? There would be plenty more falls and scrapes and most likely a broken limb or two. It was unavoidable, really. Children hurt themselves, no matter how closely they were watched or protected.
Sighing, Trisha wrapped a robe around her own wet dress and got out the milk, wondering if it ever got any easier. Somehow, she doubted it. But that was alright, really. It was just part of being a mother.