The surface of the large wooden table seemed to sparkle as light from the dusty chandelier above refracted through near-empty wine glasses. Last sips rested in the bottom of each one like a forgotten crimson gem. The chair beneath him creaked dangerously as Roy Mustang leaned against it.
"Sir!"
The harsh whisper barely escaped the tightly-pursed lips of Riza Hawkeye seated to his left. Unlike her superior officer, the captain remained militarily perched on her chair, her shoulders thrown back and her posture rigid. Roy rolled his eyes, which caused Riza's right brow to twitch as she fought to maintain a neutral expression.
"Relax, Lieutenant," he whispered as a lazy grin slinked across his lips, "You're twitching."
The blond soldier didn't respond, but the downturned corners of mouth was enough to signal her disproval of his comment. Not only did he habitually forget her new ranking, get enough wine in him, and Amestris' choice for furher-to-be acted no better than a six-year-old. Roy only leaned back further, sending another jarring creak across the silent dining room and causing Riza's frown to deepen.
"Please, sir."
Her pleading words leaked nearly inaudibly out of the corner of her mouth. Roy's boyish grin only broadened as he further tested the limits of his seating arrangement.
"See, Lieutenant?" he drawled, his words slowed by the copious amount of red wine now coursing through his veins, "Nothing's going to hap—"
Suddenly, the assurance caught in Roy's throat. The plain beige walls mixed sickeningly with the heavy green curtains blocking out the Central night as the angle of the chair passed the point of no return. Then, as quickly as his descent began, the room snapped back into focus. Roy eventually became aware of Riza's iron grasp on his wrist. Despite the sudden reaction to the alchemist's ill-fated bet with gravity, Riza's expression was oddly neutral. When the front legs of the chair returned to their rightful place on the dining room floor, she released him.
"Is everything alright in there?" came Gracia's lilting voice from the kitchen.
"Yes," replied Riza evenly, "Everything is fine."
Only then did she let a knowing smirk curl across her lips. Roy hung his head, his cheeks tinged nearly as scarlet as the lingering wine in their glasses.
"Mama?"
Roy and Riza shifted in their seats to see Elicia leaning again the doorframe, her delicate features drooping slightly from fatigue. A ratty periwinkle elephant hanging by one of its ears from her small hand now barely grazed the floor, thanks to a recent growth spurt that left her with comically long legs. With respect to height, she certainly took after her father. Gracia stuck her head out the kitchen door, her light brown hair slightly frizzy from the heat still leaking from the oven.
"What is it, Eli?"
"I'm really tir—"
Before she could finish her sentence, a yawn took over to complete it for her. Gracia's expression split into a tender smile. It wasn't long before the same smile infected Roy and Riza as well.
"I'm just finishing up dessert, darling, but I'll be along in a minute, okay?"
Elicia nodded slowly, her emerald eyes barely visible beneath sleep-heavy lids. Roy quickly rose from the table.
"I can put her to bed," he offered.
Visible relief flooded Gracia's expression as she glanced back quickly into the kitchen.
"Oh, you wouldn't mind?" she asked.
Roy nodded as he easily lifted a groggy Elicia into his arms, "Not at all!"
"Thank you, Roy! You're a saint," replied Gracia as she turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Riza watched as her commanding officer faded into the dark hall, Elicia's head lolling across his shoulder, the smile never wavering from her lips. Roy shifted the weight of the small girl as he fumbled for the doorknob to her bedroom. The switch near the door turned on a delicate pink-shaded lamp. The small pool of golden light revealed that the rest of the tiny room was also infected by every shade of the color. As her leaned over to draw back the rosy blanket, the toy elephant fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Once Elicia was tucked in, Roy retrieved the well-loved companion and nestled it next to one of the little girl's disheveled pigtails. Suddenly, his retreating hand was ensnared in Elicia's tiny ones. Her half-open emerald eyes shimmered in the artificial light.
"Night night, papa," she whispered.
Roy froze, a toxic mixture of fear and disbelief clamped down on his heart. He didn't move even as he felt her grip slip and her eyes droop shut as sleep finally claimed her. After what seemed like an eternity, Roy rose to his feet, shut off the lamp, and let the bedroom door click shut. As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway towards the dining room, the clink of dishes and Riza and Gracia's voices tangled in conversation polluted the silence.
"What an angel!" her heard Riza remark.
Gracia's musical laugh followed, "Usually she doesn't go bed so easily!"
"How old is she now?" asked Riza.
"Nearly seven," replied Gracia, "I can't believe how quickly the time's going by."
"She's gotten quite tall as well," noted the blond soldier.
"All legs!" Gracia giggled, "She can thank her father for her height."
Roy froze at the mention of their fallen comrade. The thoughts behind his eyes swirling too quickly to grasp.
"Roy?"
His head snapped to attention at the mention of his name, quickly realizing he'd been lurking in the doorway without a word.
"Are you going to join us?" asked Gracia, a veneer of concern polluting her usually cheerful smile.
Roy nodded, and wordlessly made his way towards the dining room table. Unsurprisingly, when Riza caught a few seconds of eye contact, she saw right through him. Once seated, he quietly watched the once snowy dollop of whipped cream melt into a puddle over his slice of apple pie. He didn't even notice the cheery conversation around him finally sputter and wither to silence.
"General?" asked Riza, momentarily forgetting the casual setting.
Roy didn't look up. Riza exchanged a quizzical glance at Gracia at her commanding officer's odd behavior.
"Gen—"
"She thought I was him," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Who are you talking about?" asked Gracia.
"She thought I was Maes," he admitted to Riza, unable to look his friend's widow in the eye.
"It was just a silly mistake," Riza quickly added shrilly as she picked at her half-eaten piece of pie, "You saw how tired she was, and it was dark—"
"She's been forgetting," whispered Gracia.
The alchemist finally forced himself to look up. The thin brunette's gaze bore into the milky cup of coffee trapped in her white-knuckled grip.
"I mean, she was quite young when it happened, but she went to the funeral," Gracia reasoned with a trembling voice, "Granted, she didn't really understand what was going on, but I told her about it afterwards. I show her pictures and tell her stories all the time!"
Gracia gestured wildly to a framed picture of her and her husband on the dining room wall. Her eyes had gone starry with tears.
"He's in every room! His.. his clothes are still in the closet…"
Roy watched as Riza rose from her chair.
"At first it was just little things. Like specific memories of going to the beach or… or her first day of preschool. Just little things," she continued, no longer addressing her dinner guests, "But the other day she asked me why she has green eyes. I said it was because me and her father have green eyes…"
Riza knelt and wrapped a comforting arm around her friend. Gracia didn't seem to notice.
"She… she didn't remember," the words fell haltingly from Gracia's lips, "She didn't remember that he had them too…"
"It's alright, Gracia. I'm sure she remembers!" offered Riza helplessly.
Gracia buried her face in her hands, "I try so hard… Why doesn't she remember?"
Riza looked towards Roy. Already his soul was pulling away from the surface as he retreated inside himself. As Gracia dried her tears on a nearby napkin, already apologizing for her outburst, a determined grin formed on Riza's lips. Roy returned her expression with a quizzical stare.
"I have an idea."