Prompt 19, Gold, "Denouement"
Title: Denouement
Author: Fubuki (shiroandfubuki)
Series: Umm... Possibly manga-verse, I guess...Post-series, no matter where you put it.
Word Count: 451
Rating: G
Characters: Mostly Winry, but with surprise guests. :)
Summary: It was Gracia's recipe, but Winry's creation.
Warnings: This story...is really happy! :D Angst level is pretty much zero, or at least really close to it. :P
A/N: This fandom has too much angst; feel-good fic time! :D
The recipe is something that Gracia had first made for her husband. Its secret is in the glaze - eggs, beaten and brushed across the surface, gave the crust of her pie the distinct golden hue that Maes was always so excited to see when he came home from work.
Now, it is Winry who holds the brush, thick but managed precisely with a mechanic's touch. She doesn't quite understand that such a steady hand is hardly needed in the making of pies, too used to the strain that comes with lives depending on her work. She understands well enough, however, the mechanics of the oven - she could probably take it apart a thousand times if stricken by the urge - and the pie bakes for exactly the correct amount of time.
Elysia is off in the dining room setting the table, and can hopefully entertain their guests for a few minutes more. The oven, opened, lets forth a billow of smoke that Winry must fight through to retrieve the steaming pastry.
She sets it down on the table. Only a few minutes, now until it cools. When the color of the crust properly sets to cornflower yellow, said Gracia when relaying to recipe to Winry for the very first time, the inside will have cooled enough to slide gingerly down one's throat without burning it.
Her melody of her anticipation is laughter from the other room, light and, for once, carefree. How long had it been since there was nothing to worry about?
Winry waits patiently for the crust to cool, strips of yellow-brown and yellow-white, not daring to stray from Gracia's recipe and bring out the pie one second too soon. She ignores the sounds of impatience from beyond the wall with the hardened expertise one would expect from perhaps a trained soldier, but not a teenage girl.
The cooking timer goes off right as Winry thinks that the pie should be completely cooled, a testament to precision. Winry takes off her oven mitts and picks up the pie with two bare hands, bringing it in to the dining room.
The smell reaches the room before she does, and everybody becomes silent.
The guest of honor, surrounded by endearing glances and familiar faces, still shakes with leftover laughter at everybody's antics. They all joke that he should be at least the slightest bit impatient; he had insisted on refusing all other food until this one small miracle was accomplished.
Winry places the pie in front of him. His body, a much larger miracle, shivers in glee and relief and cold all at once.
The first thing Alphonse Elric eats in a very long time is apple pie.
Author: Fubuki (shiroandfubuki)
Series: Umm... Possibly manga-verse, I guess...Post-series, no matter where you put it.
Word Count: 451
Rating: G
Characters: Mostly Winry, but with surprise guests. :)
Summary: It was Gracia's recipe, but Winry's creation.
Warnings: This story...is really happy! :D Angst level is pretty much zero, or at least really close to it. :P
A/N: This fandom has too much angst; feel-good fic time! :D
The recipe is something that Gracia had first made for her husband. Its secret is in the glaze - eggs, beaten and brushed across the surface, gave the crust of her pie the distinct golden hue that Maes was always so excited to see when he came home from work.
Now, it is Winry who holds the brush, thick but managed precisely with a mechanic's touch. She doesn't quite understand that such a steady hand is hardly needed in the making of pies, too used to the strain that comes with lives depending on her work. She understands well enough, however, the mechanics of the oven - she could probably take it apart a thousand times if stricken by the urge - and the pie bakes for exactly the correct amount of time.
Elysia is off in the dining room setting the table, and can hopefully entertain their guests for a few minutes more. The oven, opened, lets forth a billow of smoke that Winry must fight through to retrieve the steaming pastry.
She sets it down on the table. Only a few minutes, now until it cools. When the color of the crust properly sets to cornflower yellow, said Gracia when relaying to recipe to Winry for the very first time, the inside will have cooled enough to slide gingerly down one's throat without burning it.
Her melody of her anticipation is laughter from the other room, light and, for once, carefree. How long had it been since there was nothing to worry about?
Winry waits patiently for the crust to cool, strips of yellow-brown and yellow-white, not daring to stray from Gracia's recipe and bring out the pie one second too soon. She ignores the sounds of impatience from beyond the wall with the hardened expertise one would expect from perhaps a trained soldier, but not a teenage girl.
The cooking timer goes off right as Winry thinks that the pie should be completely cooled, a testament to precision. Winry takes off her oven mitts and picks up the pie with two bare hands, bringing it in to the dining room.
The smell reaches the room before she does, and everybody becomes silent.
The guest of honor, surrounded by endearing glances and familiar faces, still shakes with leftover laughter at everybody's antics. They all joke that he should be at least the slightest bit impatient; he had insisted on refusing all other food until this one small miracle was accomplished.
Winry places the pie in front of him. His body, a much larger miracle, shivers in glee and relief and cold all at once.
The first thing Alphonse Elric eats in a very long time is apple pie.