Prompt 176 / Arrogance / Haughty Tongue
Title: Haughty Tongue
Author: Antigone
Series: Any
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG / K+
Characters: Teen!Roy, OC
Warnings: Roy being a jerk (as even the best teenage boys are wont to do).
Summary: Roy belittles a potential rival.
A/N: This is first draft/excerpt from a multi-chaptered gift!fic for mebh_me. It’s loosely based on Prometheus Bound. I think (hope) this ficlet can stand on its’ own. If you’re interested in reading more, you can find previous chapters here.
-o-o-o-
There exists an inflammable element within every flammable substance. Careful measurement substantiates its existence. It has been observed that ash is lighter than wood. Rust is lighter than iron. Thus, something is released during combustion. This is ‘phlogiston.’
Ethon bent over an ancient copy of Physica Subterranea. His back ached. He squinted; his eyes felt strained from long nights reading in the library with a single, paltry candle. But he neared an answer - he was sure of it. Epiphany would strike soon. It had to. It just had to. The secret of flame was just beyond his reach.
He was so engrossed he hardly heard the sound of footsteps nearby.
“What’re you reading?” said a cool, smooth voice.
Ethon glanced up to see a dark-eyed youth approach. He sauntered, hands delved deeply in his pockets. Ethon recognized him immediately: Roy Mustang, fellow cadet and alchemy classmate. Ethon often watched the charismatic boy from afar, quietly admiring his easy, carefree manner with more than a little envy. Roy was his better in every way: He was boyishly handsome while Ethon was a bulky, awkward thing. He was charming while Ethon stuttered and stumbled over words. He quickly made friends while Ethon sat in quiet isolation.
And Roy was popular. Everyone loved the raven-haired youth with the sharp eyes and sharper tongue.
Ethon’s mouth hung open, wordless. The candle guttered in the awkward silence that ensued.
Roy’s bows rose. “Anyone home?” he called archly. He leaned forward and spoke his next words slowly, as though to an idiot. “What. Are. You. Reading?”
“Ph- Physica…” Ethon managed.
Roy’s lip curled. “Phlogiston theory?” He snorted. “Why are you bothering with that?”
Ethon’s hand jerked away from the text as though burned. “I- I just wanted…” he stammered. “For my research. I’m trying to… I want to research flame alchemy.”
Roy stilled. His eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a livid line. “You’re studying flame alchemy?” he murmured slowly. Guardedly.
“Yeah. I think I’m really -”
“You can’t.”
Ethon swallowed. “W- what?”
“It’s impossible. Only the most talented alchemists can create flame.” Roy trailed a critical eye over Ethon’s heavy figure. “Certainly not Becher with his flawed Phlogiston theory.” He emphasized the last words with biting distain.
Ethon simply stared at the handsome youth with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Roy sighed. “Listen, er…”
“Ethon.”
“Listen, Ethon. I’m trying to help you. You’re gonna fail.” Roy’s chest puffed. “I should know. I studied under Master Hawkeye.”
“You know Berthold Hawkeye?” Ethon whispered, awestruck. The Flame Master was a brilliant recluse, rumored to possess the complex theorems necessary to create fire. Ethon’s heart fluttered. “Did he teach you…? Did he show you…?”
“No,” Roy said bitterly. “But he taught me enough to stay away from Phlogiston theory.”
Ethon quailed under the scrutiny. “I guess I can try something…”
“Don’t bother.” Roy shook his head. “Look, I’m doing you a favor. Leave flame alchemy in more capable hands.”
Roy planted his hands on his hips arrogantly.
“Like mine.”