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It truly was like a dream.
It was the midst of winter, and though frozen sleet was all too common in the small, farming town that was Resembool, nothing could prepare its inhabitants for the unusual wintery transformation that had beset their home overnight.
Winry placed a gentle hand against the chilled glass of the french doors leading out to the balcony, an unfamiliar coldness seeping into the heel of her palm as she wiped the fog away. Her sapphire eyes widened in utter shock at the sight before her, the drowsiness that came with waking seemingly being zapped out of her in an instant.
The rolling hills and rural farmland, which were normally a vibrant gold colour in the colder months, now lay covered in a thick, white blanket of snow for as far as the eye could see. The ice-covered fields glistened beautifully like crystallized amber as dawn broke, casting a warm glow over the breathtaking expanse of white.
A gasp hung in Winry’s throat as she peered at the state of the land, her eyes sparkling with growing excitement. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she raced to her wardrobe to fetch a warmer change of clothes before rushing downstairs.
As always, Granny Pinako was waiting for her in the kitchen with breakfast, though this morning, in obvious preparation for the new weather, she donned an olive, thick fleece parka over her usual clothes. Den, the family dog who was not quite a puppy anymore, perked up upon noticing Winry’s approach. He greeted her excitedly, growing rowdy until Granny hushed him with a firm command.
“Did you see how much snow’s outside, Granny?” Winry could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she sat herself at the table, dangling legs kicking fervently. “Can I go play after breakfast?”
Granny looked outside through the narrow window over the kitchen sink, adjusting her small spectacles. “Only if you grab a scarf and mittens before you go,” she hummed firmly, cleaning her smoking pipe with a striped rag. Then, to seemingly no one in particular, she added, “That certainly is a lot of snow, and so suddenly too… Hopefully the pipes didn’t freeze.”
“Yes ma’am! Thanks, Granny!” Winry exclaimed, abundantly overjoyed and deaf to the adult’s developing concerns. She usually wasn’t one to be so brusque in nature, but the sheer exhilaration of the bizarre weather outside caused her to scarf down her serving of biscuits and gravy as though she were starved to death.
After cleaning her dish, the young girl obediently scurried back upstairs to fetch the extra articles of clothing as requested, before hurrying for the front door.
From her balcony, the snow already looked to be at least a foot thick, more than she had ever seen in her 8 years on the earth. Though she knew she’d be wearing mittens, Winry wondered how cold the snow would feel in her hands as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. Would it come up to her knees? Would she be able to have a snowball fight? Or make snow angels? The possibilities stood just outside the front door…
Winry turned the knob and tugged.
Just past the porch, the yard was shrouded in white, untouched and pristine like a fresh sheet of parchment. Winry couldn’t tell where the bottom step ended and the ground began as she gingerly descended the stairs, her eyes fixed on her boots so as not to slip.
Suddenly, she heard a scuttle behind her and before she could turn around, Den had raced past her in a blur of black and white, knocking her off her feet and sending her tumbling onto the undisturbed layer of ice. With a groan, Winry pushed herself up onto her knees, wincing as the cold bit into her mulberry leggings.
Pinako appeared at the door, having accidentally let Den out. Her face contorted, both in annoyance and concern. “Oh, dearie, that reckless dog! Winry, are you alright?”
Winry stood up, patting the snow off her clothes. Despite the fall, she grinned warmly. “I’m okay, Granny! No need to worry!” She couldn’t suppress a giggle as she observed Den bound restlessly through the cold powder, kicking up clouds in his wake.
Winry watched the canine frolic for a while before her gaze caught sight of two figures approaching in the distance. They stood out quite prominently in the starkness, side by side and bundled up head to toe. Winry shielded her eyes with a flat hand against her forehead, squinting.
“Hey, Winry!!” A shrill voice called, and Winry perked up. One of the two people was waving at her eagerly with both arms.
“Well, look who it is,” Granny Pinako, who had cleared off a seat and placed it near the top steps of the porch, murmured to herself. She packed some tobacco into her pipe and lit it, expression appearing relaxed, maybe even relieved. Winry turned to her for a moment before peering back out as the two unidentifiable visitors became more visible.
“Some snow, huh?!” Edward’s voice finally met her ears, it sounding almost foreign for just a heartbeat. She hadn’t heard from the Elric brothers in some time now… Their visits to the Rockbell home had become less and less since…
“There’s so much of it!” Alphonse’s voice chirped, breaking Winry from her train of thought. “Can we make snow forts, Brother?”
“I s'pose,” came Ed’s response, “Though I don’t know if we can make teams for a snowball fight with just the three of us.”
As the boys came nearer and Winry was able to see their faces more clearly, she smiled at them, the expression feeling so natural. “Hey, guys!”
The Elrics returned a greeting, both looking happy and truly unphased by the circumstances that had plagued Winry’s mind just moments before. She pushed the thought away.
“I can’t believe it!” Ed grinned widely, “There’s snow! Here! In Resembool!” He kicked at the white with a thick boot lined with fur. “It’s incredible!”
The older Elric was clad in a large, brown coat and dark pants. His golden hair poked out wildly from under the baby blue knit cap atop his head, while matching gloves kept his hands warm and toasty. Some flecks of snow were already visible on his jacket, and Winry guessed that he and Al had already been up to some hijinks before their arrival. The younger wore a similar fit, although his clothes looked a bit oversized in comparison.
“Have you boys had breakfast?” Granny Pinako called out to them from her place on the porch, rings of smoke pluming from her mouth.
“No worries, Gran!” Ed responded, and Al nodded in agreement, albeit a bit delayed. “We came to play with Winry!”
Bashfully, Winry laughed, cheeks flushing a deeper pink than what was caused by the cold. She held her hands behind her back, fidgeting.
After waving goodbye to Granny, Winry and the Elric brothers started for the wide fields. While they were still in proximity of the Rockbell house, they had created some significant distance between them and the run-from-home business. For what seemed like forever, they were silent save for the crunching of snow underfoot, making for an almost awkward journey.
“I’m gonna make a fort!” Alphonse finally broke the quietude, stopping a couple of feet away from Winry with a broad smile. He started scooping a pile of snow together by the armfuls, eyes hardened with concentration as he began patting it into shape.
Edward, who was crouched down and shuffling the snow around with gloved hands, let out a scoff. “We can’t have a snowball fight with teams though!” He reminded him, and he glanced at Winry. She blinked innocently in response.
“Well, I’m gonna make my fort anyways!” Al replied adamantly in typical younger-sibling fashion, earning a scowl from Ed.
It wasn’t long before the children were in the midst of a heated snowball war. It started when a lone snowball struck a busied Alphonse on the back of the head, knocking his beanie clean off and covering his blonde hair in white frost. The boy whirled around, expression twisted with a look of betrayal.
“No fair!” He had pouted, clambering behind his fort with an accusational glare. “Brother!”
Edward, who looked devilish behind his newly erected fort, smirked cheekily. “What?” He feigned innocence, pointing at Winry. “Winry was the one who threw it!”
“What?! Nuh-uh!!” She argued, springing to her feet defensively. She had barely scraped together enough snow to build a wall of protection in front of her, not to mention any ammunition of her own in case things got intense.
The battle lasted for a good half hour, with most conversation lapsing into yelps of those being struck by snowballs or whoops from those administering them. Winry had launched a few snowballs of her own at Edward for lying about the first attack on Al’s fort, and she could hardly stifle a cackle when they met their mark—which happened to be square in his face.
Edward let out a howl, wiping at his eyes with frantic hands. “Hey! That’s an illegal throw!” He’d shouted furiously, but Winry simply ignored him with a smug look.
“You’re just making up rules as you go!” She called back, before glancing across the battlefield at Al’s fort and lobbing a few balls of ice his way too. It was only fair after all.
In the end, Ed and Winry had allowed Alphonse to claim victory in the snowball fight, mainly because he was on the verge of tears after accidentally being pelted by two snowballs at once— each being thrown by Ed and Winry respectively. Despite the sniveling moments before, Al looked prideful now, satisfied that he had come out triumphant in the face of adversity.
While they were growing a bit cold now having been out in the snow for so long, not one of the three children were quite ready to go home yet. In fact, it was Winry who suggested a new game.
“Why don’t we build a snowman?” She had wanted to propose the idea sooner, but the violent snowball fight broke out before she could even form the words.
The Elric brothers’ faces lit up at the idea, and they exchanged a glance that Winry couldn’t quite read.
“Let’s use alchemy, Brother!” Al leapt up and down in place, and Edward bounced with him, quite visibly in agreement.
The two boys got down on the ground and with careful precision, began digging a circle in the snow with their hands while Winry watched. At first she had rolled her eyes, slightly discontented with the use of alchemy for something as simple as building a snowman. But her annoyance soon gave way to awe when the brothers placed their hands down on the rune and sparks came flying out of it.
Winry shielded her eyes with a yelp, the crackling sounds making all of the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The cyan light from the transmutation flickered for a few heartbeats before dying out, revealing a cold, lumpy figure in its place.
A small ‘snowman’ made up of two spherical hunks of snow and ice was poised stiffly, its face donning a frozen expression of resilience despite the fact it barely stood 2 feet tall.
Winry stared at the creation with wide eyes, whereas Ed looked utterly dumbstruck, brows knitting together almost angrily.
“What the hell?!” He frowned, throwing his hands up in the air. “What kinda snowman—?! I mean, c’mon!”
Al peered at their creation, looking flummoxed. “It’s so ...little…” He mumbled and Edward’s face twisted as he stifled his rage. Winry bit the inside of her lip to avoid laughing aloud.
“That’s it!” Ed gave the snowman a look that conveyed pure spite. “You’re outta here!” He approached the mounds of snow and reared his leg back, fully intent on kicking it out of existence, but Winry stepped in front of him.
“Hey, don’t destroy it!” She cried, maybe a bit too passionately for what it was. Edward staggered, confusion washing over his enraged expression.
“W-What? Huh?” He stammered, disbelieved. Winry’s cheeks grew hot as the boy’s golden eyes pierced hers. “Why not??”
“Because there’s nothing wrong with it!” She argued resolutely, folding her arms over her chest. “We can still play our game just fine.”
Alphonse looked up at her curiously as he fiddled with his mittens. “Oh, what game are we playing?”
“‘Snow family!’” She announced it ceremoniously, swinging her arms wide for emphasis. She crouched down in front of the snowman while Ed backed away without saying anything. “We’re a family and this snowman is gonna be the baby.” She decided, patting the sculpture on the head lovingly. “I, of course, shall be his mommy.”
Her eyes flickered up to look at the boys and both brothers flinched, a vibrant blush colouring their faces scarlet. Upon noticing her stare, the Elrics sheepishly looked away, fixating their attention on anything but her now.
“I-I’ll be the older brother!” Al stuttered, forcing the colour to leave his cheeks. Edward immediately gawked at him at the mention of being the snowman’s older sibling.
“Wait, how come you’re the older brother?”
“Well, why not?”
“Because you’re already the younger brother!”
“But that’s for real life! That doesn’t count for the game!”
While the two boys bickered amongst themselves, Winry had formed a small, protective barrier of snow around the snowman, a sort of improvised home for the snow infant.
“Guys!” She finally huffed, and the Elrics immediately fell silent. “We mustn’t argue in front of Melton!”
“‘Melton’?” Ed echoed, sounding baffled.
Winry hummed, nodding her head. “That’s his name! He’s our baby after all. He surely can’t be nameless!”
Subsequently, the older Elric’s face resumed a shade of red that resembled a ripe tomato. “R-right!” He replied quickly, scratching the back of his head with a gloved hand. “So, now what?”
“Well,” Winry paused, placing a hand on her chin in thought. “I’ll be making our dinner,” she decided, and already began forming a makeshift table out of the snow in front of her. She looked at Al with a cheerful demeanor. “Do you mind fetching us some twigs and leaves for our food, big brother?”
“Yes ma’am!” Al beamed, and scampered off across the field, leaving the two ‘parents’ of little Melton to their own respective duties.
While Winry made do with her limited resources— she could hardly call the snow limited given how well it held its shape — Edward had sidled up next to her. He awkwardly joined her on the icy ground, his boots thunking together as he crossed his legs. Winry was certain the back of his pants would be drenched now, but it didn’t seem to bother Ed at the moment. He simply watched her movements in an uncomfortable and rather sudden silence. This alone made Winry feel self conscious, and for a fleeting heartbeat she hoped Alphonse would come running back with materials in tow and break the stillness for her.
“So,” Edward’s voice was strained, as if he were suddenly forcing his enthusiasm. “What should I do since I’m the dad?”
Winry could’ve sworn that Melton, despite his inanimate features, wore a despondent expression. The snow around her felt colder just then, and she couldn’t shake the full-body chill that followed. Nevertheless, Winry continued on with the game, taking Edward’s query quite seriously.
“The father should be home helping the mother with setting the table.” She directed a small look of encouragement his way, giving the table she made a few finishing pats as she smoothed it off. She then swiveled to one side and gathered a smaller handful of snow and began to shape the plates for their dinner. Following her lead, Edward did the same, crushing the snow between his palms and squeezing the ice in his hands until it looked somewhat saucer-shaped.
Winry fully expected the young boy to utilize his alchemic talents to transmute the snow dinnerware, but he didn’t, much to her surprise. Contemplatively, she bit the inside of her lip, feeling as though something had changed in the icy air between them.
The repetitive task of making snow plates soon proved to be hypnotic, and Winry’s thoughts began to stray. She thought of the last time she had seen Edward this withdrawn before now, and a painful memory resurfaced; one she longed to forget.
The boy had stood next to a grave, hauntingly still, forced into a jet-black suit by the cruel hand of fate. The shoulder pads looked far too sharp and broad for such a small child. His eyes, once bright and warm as two suns, now seemed empty and dull, like two stars snuffed out by the universe. From across the cemetery, Winry could see despair radiate from his person. Al sat beside him, his head buried in his arms, shreds of grass clinging to his slacks.
What struck Winry most was the oppressive silence that had enveloped the two boys during the service. Their young age belied an expected outburst of grief, but instead, they remained eerily quiet, frozen in their sorrow. It was as if they had been drained of all emotion, leaving behind only a hollow, dispirited existence.
Later that day, after the graveside service had concluded, Winry had slipped past Granny to try and meet with Edward and Alphonse, hoping to offer them the support they so terribly needed in their shared bereavement.
The cemetery was still alight at sundown, headstones were bathed in a reddish-haze as the summer sun loomed over the horizon. The breeze was hot and dry, making Winry feel as though she had cotton in her mouth as she approached the Elrics. Her footfalls had gone unnoticed until a particular patch of grass, brittle from the relentless heat, crunched loudly under her ebony flats. She had sucked in a breath when Al lifted his head, teary gaze meeting hers. Edward was sitting now, but his expression remained stoic, and he didn’t respond to his younger brother’s movement.
A dreadful silence stretched between them as Winry wracked her brain for the words of consolation she so desperately wanted to offer them. Her black dress flapped at the bottom as a gust of wind surged across the field, sending blades of grass skittering and awakening a symphony of cicadas in the distance.
Hot tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at them, heart bleeding and aching and shattering into a thousand pieces. Edward’s shoulders moved from within the suit at the sound of her taking a deep breath, but he didn’t turn to face her. Instead, he hugged his knees tighter.
“Ed…Al…” Winry had begun shakily, overwhelmed by so much emotion. “I’m so sorry..”
That was all she could manage before the dam broke and sobs tore through her frame, weathering her down until she was a shaking, sniveling mess. Her palms were wet with sweat and tears as she grieved for them both, crying and crying for the childhood that had been wrenched away.
She remained like this for an unprecedented amount of time, clutching her arms around herself and leaning over as she wept. She thought of the few times where she had visited the Elrics at home. Their mother’s famous cherry pie came to mind: the buttery and expertly crafted lattice-crust covered a vibrant, ruby-red cherry filling. Winry always was captivated by the level of deftness visible within such a simple dessert, and she never failed to leave the Elric home without some remnants of it stuck to her face. How she’d miss that pie… Images of Edward’s smile flashed behind her eyes. How she’d missed that smile….
“Winry,” Edward’s voice tore her from her thoughts, and instantly she was transported back into the cold. The snow plate she had been making was disfigured from her turning it over in her hands so many times, looking more like a misshapen snowball than a platter. She let it fall out of her mitted grip.
“Winry?” Ed’s face stretched into concern, and Winry heard the snow under him crunch as he seemed to shift his weight. “Are you okay?”
“It was silly of me to want to play this game,” the words fell from her mouth, sounding almost impassive. “I’m sorry,” she excused the tears that were beginning to swell, hiding them with the back of her mitten. Why was she crying now?
“Are you crying?” It was as if Edward had heard her thoughts. He huffed, tone taking on something reminiscent of his usual raillery. “What could you be crying about now?”
Indignation surged in her chest. “Sorry that I have feelings!” She blurted turbulently, standing up. Edward stared up at her with wide eyes, still clutching his own disc of ice. He placed the plate in front of Melton before rising too.
“S-Sorry,” The older Elric mumbled.
Winry wiped her face, the snow that had clung to her sleeve cut at her cheek a little. “I…I miss my parents.” She finally announced, trembling.
It had seemingly come from nowhere, she realized. But having been truly thinking of Trisha’s passing and the Elrics’ pain, she couldn’t bring herself to share what had actually been on her mind. As terrible as it sounded, her parents were an afterthought just then, and that on its own brought even more pain in her heart.
Edward, unknowing of the extent of her mourning, offered her a hug of assurance, and Winry accepted, melting into the embrace. The knot that had formed in her chest loosened just a little, and she could breathe again. She sighed and inhaled, taking in Ed’s scent. She remained this way until her heart slowed to a calmer thumping, and only then did she let her arms slide back to her side. His eyes bore into hers for a moment, and Winry picked up the percipience that lined his gold irises. A silent understanding. She exhaled, feeling solace in the wordless exchange.
“It’s really cold,” Edward finally commented once they separated, clutching his elbows. “Do you think Al’s found anything under all this snow?”
Winry, feeling so much better now, cracked a small smile. “I didn’t think about that to be honest..”
As if on cue, brisk steps sounded from across the clearing of white, and Winry glanced over to find Alphonse bounding towards them covered in thick chunks of snow. He held a couple of damp leaves and a tiny twig in his mitts, looking exultant despite what little he was able to unearth in his hunt for the perfect dinner.
“I’m home!” He shouted playfully, earning a chortle from Ed. He deposited his haul on the snow table, while Winry and Edward prepared the plates.
The game concluded with all three children feigning full stomachs, giving Melton a pat on the head, and departing for the Rockbell house in good spirits. Once they had entered the home, they shrugged out of their frigid coats while Pinako stoked the fire in the fireplace. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, and Winry guessed the freshly made cups were waiting for them in the kitchen.
Winry had gone upstairs to change into a dry set of clothes while Granny led the boys to the spare room to fetch them some as well. Abstractedly, she listened as she dried her damp hair with a towel.
“I had so much fun today, Brother!”
“Me too,” Ed’s voice replied warmly, and Winry smiled happily to herself.
Me too.