Their Darkest New Years

Edit: 2012-09-24 Updated the image
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Okay, so while the writing laptop is still inaccessable *suffer*, let's have more selfserving fanfic fanart.

Ed and Winry in Munich on New Years Eve, from 'Ed's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Couple of Days'.

Chapter 33: "Der gute Kamerad" [link]

Fic excerpt:

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December 31, 1921
8:55PM

Two foreign people walked like a blizzard through a city that bubbled warm with life. The dark look in Ed's gold eyes tightened as he gazed around at the people mulling about this excited part of town. This country did not have any reason to be joyous, Ed concluded. There was nothing joyous in Germany right now. The country had lost the war and the consequences were ruining them on a daily scale; the whole of the country was wrought in pain, waiting to be taken advantage of. The people swam in the false hope of a new year to simply feel the joy of something again. January 1, 1922 was a good enough reason as any to celebrate nothing.

At least, it put to bed the disaster that was 1921.

Ed looked to Winry who walked along in her own little world, bundled in her winter wears. She hadn't said a thing to him. Ed's eyes mingled in the crowds again. Shops, stores, restaurants, bars, pubs, taverns, holes – they all had their doors open wide. Festive decorations and German flags hung from poles and windows. The further Ed walked, the more robust the places seemed to be.

"In here." Ed grabbed Winry by the hand suddenly, and took her inside a noisy, lively place. A drunk patron stood on stage with some friends, belting out something that wasn't German or English, singing horribly off-key. Pushing through the laughing mulls of people, Ed pulled a bewildered Winry to the bar counter. She swept the hat from her head and pulled the mitts from her fingers once Ed let go, stuffing them inside the hat. Ed slipped up onto an open barstool, Winry joining next to him.

"Edward Elric!" a voice lurched into their ears, spouting off a strange tongue of German, "what the hell're ya doin' 'ere?"

"Hey, Sam," Ed suddenly grinned, like a switch had been thrown and someone else sat next to Winry, "so you do work here."

"I own this place, you ignorant Brit! What the hell are you doing 'ere?" the middle-aged man with ruffled, mouse-brown hair and a soggy white towel thrown over his shoulder leaned over the bar counter, "I haven't seen you in years. How ya been and who's yer pretty New Years date?"

"This is Winry," Ed's voice rose to stay above the crowd noise, "she's from Sweden."

"No kidding? My eyes tell me it's no lie: Swedish girls are a might pretty," the man extended a hand to Winry, who gave him an uncertain smile as she shook it, "Hello Winry from Sweden, I'm Samuel from Austria. Can I get'cha somethin' to drink, sweetie?"

Ed rolled his eyes, "Fuck Sam, she's Swedish, don't be stupid. She doesn't understand what you're asking."

"Well, how the hell do you talk to her, boy?" the man at the bar threw the question back to Ed with a laugh, "did ya learn Swedish too?"

"She speaks English," he drawled out, as though Sam should have known.

The barkeep's face burst open with a laugh, "A Swedish doll who speaks English out with a British boy who speaks German, drinkin' in the Austrian man's bar in Munich. Something more to add to my memoirs."