For Kira Yanami and her fanfic challenge.
It was another military function, the typical ball involving all of the 'significantly' ranked personal for the mingling and nose rubbing of dignitaries to form new alliances and to smooth out ruffled ones. Personally, Riza loved these events. Not because of the diplomacy, she despised that part, necessary evil that is was, but because she could dress up in formal wear outside the military uniform. For some reason, she suspected it had something to do with it being easy on the male half's eyes, the female personal were allowed to forego the formal uniform for these events in favor of more traditional cloths. But the reason she enjoyed this the most was because she got to see Roy decked out in full regalia. The look really did compliment him to a seriously dangerous degree, and few were the occasions he looked so distinguished. She loved seeing him dressed up.
He hated getting dressed up! Hated it! From the tight stiff-necked collars to the confining jacket that restricted arm movement and basically made him behave like some clunky armor. He sighed in general displeasure as he stood with formal posture and watched all those of higher political standing mill about. He felt so naked without the longer bangs to hide behind when his hair was secured back like this, and that his face was so much more open he felt he had to put in extra concentration to keep it unreadable. Apparently, though, it had slipped as he was nudged in his left side. And looking that way briefly, he scowled softly at Hawkeye, but did school his features as he continued to wait to be introduced to the newly arrived.
Thankfully, that went painlessly enough, and they were now seated at one of the elaborately decorated round tables. Solid silver candelabras cradling pure Ishbali wax candles were complimented by the delicate tablecloth of white Xing silk, upon which the beautiful dishware of famous Xing thinness sat reflecting the soft glow from candlelight flames. It was all very well orchestrated, he thought, but of course it was designed with impressing the wealth that an alliance with Amestris would bring you. A fitting theme for such a purpose as tonight's ball.
Hawkeye was at his side, of course, still seated on his left, while the other four occupants of the table were lesser delegates than those of tonight's goals. All of the seating was just as carefully arranged as the decorations topping the exquisite table. Some of the more conservative members of the council took great care to make sure that none of the easily offended or skittish officials were placed with the often radical Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist applying to more than just his alchemic specialty. He was currently watching a gloved hand play with his wine glass, sitting back in his chair and observing how the smooth red liquid gently swayed as his nimble fingers twirled the glass by its stem.
It was so much more entertaining than the psycho-babble he was half listening to coming from one of the delegates across from him. Oh, he was still paying attention, and as soon as this particular dirigible finished, he would call him on some of the major faults in his theory. Riza leaning forward to rest her head on her long-gloved intertwined hands interrupted his musings and he glanced at her momentarily before quietly releasing a breath and dropping his hand to rest at the base of the stem. Catching the man spewing 'facts' about happenstance occurrences and what-have-yous in the eye as he traveled around the table, Roy unintentionally drew attention solely to himself and brought the rant to an end as said man directed a question to him.
"So, Mr. Flame Alchemist," he started in with a patronizing tone, "I take it you disagree with my statements." Lifting his own wine glass up for a sip, he smiled sardonically and challenged Roy with his eyes, so confident in his being right. "Or is it that this is too intellectually in depth and beyond the mental bounds of alchemists?" he finished, smug smile still in place, the other guest on his right somewhat snickering as well. That's how they were seated, though; the two with the closest ideals next to each other, while the other pair differed in thinking and frowned somewhat at the poorly delivered barb.
Roy simply flashed his eyebrows quickly and raised the wine-glass rim to his lips, gazing at the tabletop and appearing to be in thought. Pulling his lips inward to remove any of the bittersweet and somewhat tart wine, he allowed his eyes to follow his hand as he set it back upon the table. Fingers automatically grabbing the very base of the stem and turning it so very slightly, Roy lazily brought his eyes up to strike the man's words away with a piercing stare of slightly narrowed eyes and a smile easily upstaging that across from him. He was aware of Riza looking at him from his peripheral vision before she ducked her head, hiding her lips under her folded fingers in knowing what was coming from his predatory smirk. He may not be the monarch, but he was king of all things constructed in arrogance.
"Now, now," Roy said too calmly as he glanced at his fingers once again wrapped around the wine stem. "Surely an overeducated man such as your self," he punctuated by glaring into the man's eyes, "realizes that such a solution is negated by the fact that the two opposing sides completely contradict themselves not only by one degree, but by a total of three degrees cross-referenced on four dimensions. This is, of course, considering that any politician would even take such conversations for face value. He'd be a truly naïve one, for certain, if he did. But let's put that particular contradiction aside and examine the others by their degrees." Taking another sip of his non preferred alcohol to wet his throat, what kind of place didn't' carry scotch, honestly, he continued, "Shall you or I begin?"
The other man was cut off mid-laugh at the Flame's audacity to correct him on a matter that had been flawlessly presented as the delegate to his far left commented, "He's right, you know. I can see what he means."
"What!?" the pompous man asked incredulously. "Well, then, you must have faulty reasoning along the lines of this Flame Alchemist, because this is the truth, not some theory!"
"No, it's not even a theory," the smaller man continued, Riza's and Roy's eyes meeting as he was going to save Roy the trouble. "Let me show you what I mean…"
Still looking Riza in the eyes, Roy smiled triumphantly at her over the glass as he drank and set it back down, once more sitting back to soak in the much more agreeable atmosphere. He hadn't really paid much attention to what was being said over the argument, but was only aware of the increased rate of breathing of the ignorant dignitary as he huffed in humiliation and of his eventual hasty departure from the table. Riza had once again moved her head downward, letting her amused lips hide the smirk they sported under her hands. If he didn't get in trouble for this, he'd be praised. The seating had been carefully arranged, after all. The higher ups knew Roy's personality well, and even if they didn't like him, they'd put it to good use by having him weed a bit, and Mr. Huffy could consider himself 'weeded'. Brigadier General Roy Mustang excelled at pushing buttons, and tonight, that's what the council was counting on.
Roy had said something about going to mingle and play 'make friends' with those who could potentially help him get to the top while waiting for dinner to be served and Riza sent him off with a nod. With one leg atop the other, the decent split in the dress's sides showcased her legs from hugging knees downward. Her forearms entirely gloved, sat vertically in the air as her elbows perched on the table, fingers still weaved as she momentarily lifted her head off them to watch him cross over and work his charm. She flicked her head a bit harsher than needed when turning to follow so that the hair framing her face would sway out of her line of sight. Idly, she wondered if she would regret leaving those strands down and not putting them up with the rest of her hair in the elaborate bun. Wouldn't do to have them in the way of her aim… But she thought she'd positioned it just right. The left bit slid forward again but she had no trouble seeing him clearly, so she decided that the hair was fine. Besides, it'd been somewhat of a pain to get it the way she liked it and she'd rather not mess with it.
She was always watching him, that was her job, and such a type never really had a shift. Protection had to come at all hours of the day, and Roy hardly stopped moving at the day's end. Rather, he was just beginning. Technically, she was only assigned to him on his clock. When he was at work, so was she, between certain hours. But she felt she always had to be there, to watch him even when it wasn't required of her, so there were many times where she kept beside him even when she wasn't being held to it. Tonight was a military ball, and with the surplus of guards for the foreign visitors, she wasn't overly concerned about anything happening to Brig. Gen. Mustang, and opted to stay seated. But she was on the look out all the same, and armed as always, being especially careful tonight as Roy had decided to forego his arrayed gloves for formal whites in caution of undue intimidation. Though knowing him, they were on him somewhere, and she was pretty sure he had his gun, as well.
Her gown had been chosen with deception in mind so that she would look every bit the daintily refined female flashing as much skin within 'her' comfort zone as possible while being significantly armed. The deceptively low cut back and fitted material made it impossible to think of anyone concealing anything under it, but there was a gun strapped onto her thigh and the hair-piece securing her bun could be used as a make-shift knife easily. She was going for the 'couldn't possibly be a threat' look and thought she'd succeeded rather nicely, thank you. Even the better informed of his enemies knowing who and what she was would remain unsuspecting of her armament in such dress, and that was just what she was going for.
After watching him circle to more than a few people, her neck grew tired and she allowed her attention to become exhausted. With all the guards and State Alchemists stationed here, she had concluded that the environment was safe enough for her charge to roam freely. The small orchestra was playing some wonderful pieces tonight and they carried nostalgia in their notes, the dancers eliciting more as she remembered her parents in her youth at a similar event. She didn't know how long she'd been spacing out but a gloved hand heavy with warmth upon her right shoulder startled her into characteristic alertness. She was quickly aware of Roy and how his presence surrounded her, leaning on the table with his left arm so his face was beside hers, other hand at the back of her shoulder.
He nodded to the dancers out on the floor as he leaned over her and spoke for her alone, "Did you want to dance?"
"Eh?" It just tumbled out. "Um, no, not really," she said somewhat unconvincingly, a slight blush tinting her cheeks as she reflexively sat up and back into the chair and Roy's arm, the heavy uniform coat protecting them from an otherwise slightly uncomfortable episode.
He pulled away from her in disbelief at the obvious lie and just looked at her, eyes roaming her face, his forearm in contact with most of her bared shoulders now. "Then what's with that face?"
The blush deepened a bit as she looked away from him in a small huff, arms crossing. "I was just remembering my parents."
"Hm," the ever eloquent Flame Alchemist put forth, eyes roving over the fabric that reached up to wrap around her neck, the dark color setting her simple necklace and earrings off. How ironic that he'd given all of it to her, and even more so that she was the only female that he's given jewelry. Bringing his attention to her face once more, he shot it over to the dancers and then to her crossed arms.
"Come on," he said, hand sliding across her shoulders to fall down her arm and dig out the hand buried there. Pulling her out of the chair, he traded her smaller hand to his left and pulled her arm across his chest where he held it down at his side. His right hand bee-lined to the small of her back as he pushed her along in front of him, gently maneuvering her to the spot on the floor he'd scouted and expertly twirling her to face him as they reached it.
"Oh, don't look so embarrassed, Lieutenant," he chided with that endearing smile of his. "You looked like you really wanted to." His eyes met hers before she pulled away to stare at his chest. Sighing through his nose in understanding, he focused a gentle and personal smile on her. He pulled her to him and assumed the traditional dance posture, placing her one arm in the proper position, raising their hands to let hers float upon his, relishing how they were being intimate this very night in front of everyone and how it was allowed, if only for tonight. Bradley may be dead, but his 'no fraternization' was still official.
Things had shifted quickly between them at his near-death, the experience redefining his priorities with terrifying clarity. But they were careful, so very careful. Personal time and intimate gestures were so very closely regulated, even in extreme privacy. They couldn't take any chances, not with him being so close. Even his staff didn't know anything of what might be going on. Well, he corrected, he thought Farman suspected. Hughes had recruited the guy, so he was by no means ignorant. Come to think of it, his staff had probably noticed the minute changes between him and his Lieutenant. He would bet on them having a pool going on this, the bastards.
"If I didn't get you going, I don't think anyone would." He'd attempted a small joke to dispel their thoughts and hopefully draw Riza out. She was much too into Lieutenant-mode and he wanted to see the Riza he'd become accustomed to. But if this was too intimate at such an open event, then perhaps there was no room for anything else until he obtained that final promotion. Hell, he was only one away from the 'top', and that being general as Amestris was now a democracy ruled by Parliament.
Reforms were still being written so there was hope of a presidential position once again being commissioned, and he was forever working on his foundation of support. Finding sponsors was tough but strangely even more so without Pride to speak on his behalf, ironically enough. King Bradley may have been the ultimate enemy, but Roy had to admit he hadn't been as terribly corrupt as the other homunculi. Bradley had spoken on the Flame's behalf numerous times and often been the only one to hear him out.
Of course Roy knew some things had been to gauge him when given certain opportunities, but Pride had almost always given Roy a chance to perform after hearing both sides. And Roy had gotten away with quite a bit, until he directly threatened Bradley that night, where the homunculus preceded to hand Roy's arrogant ass back to him piece by piece. That man had never stood for any sort of personal attack from anyone, hence the dub of Pride, he imagined. Idly, Roy wondered if he would consider the way they were dancing a slap in the face…
Shit.
Fraternization be damned. Tonight was a special event and he intended to flaunt his rule-bending under all his enemies' noses. Roy Mustang did whatever he wanted as long as it was within reason, rules or no; what was the deal with fraternizing, anyway? But tonight, he wanted this, to be together so publicly with no one being able to do anything about it. He pulled her tightly against him, significant amounts touching enough to be considered indecent given 'the rule'. Riza looked up in alarm, brown eyes large and colored with frantic questioning as shocked gasps and breaths became audible as various people caught sight, "Sir?"
He motioned his head in a small, sharp negative. "Fuck them." And squeezing her hand and applying a bit more pressure against her back, he twirled his way around the floor and before as many of his opposers as possible. 'And fuck fraternization,' he thought. 'That'll be the first thing to go when I'm President.' And he caught sight of a certain general and chess companion smiling contentedly at them as they circled around before becoming lost in the sea of those still dancing.
Riza had been traded a few times and he'd had enough dancing for awhile, so he'd made his way back to his table and removed the small gift in his pocket. It'd gotten extremely heavy since they started dancing and he'd given in to taking it out, unable to get his thoughts off both it and his mind. His head rose from the box and its musings to search for the subject of it all. It'd taken him a bit to find her and that didn't sit entirely too well with him. Roy did not like to wait. He didn't find her until the song's end, and only then because everyone stopped spinning through his sightline. He could see the old man straightening from placing a kiss first on her hand and then her cheek, before waving her off with his typical smile. He'd paused momentarily to get a look at his surroundings before spotting Mustang and heading over.
"The moon sure is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" he said, looking from out through the gossamer curtains at the full satellite as he sat heavily down across from the brooding State Alchemist. "Don't you ever wish you could capture it, steal it away, and make it yours?"
"No. I've no need for such childish goals."
"Well, its improbability is its allure. Surely even a scientist like your self has something comparable to chase after, the Philosopher's Stone aside or the Presidency," he laughed, easing into silence as Mustang nodded slowly with preoccupation.
"I've found another moon."
"Oh?"
"Mm."
"And you wish to bring this one to your orbit?"
"More like secure its orbit," he said, fiddling with the small dark box on the table in front of him, finally opening it to stare at the bright stone inside. "And what can you give the moon but a star to show how greatly it outshines everything else," he spoke softly, almost in a reverent whisper.
"Why not court the sun? That is the brightest of all heavenly bodies if it's light you're after."
"Because it is the moon that is there lighting up the night of your life when the sun has long since turned away."
The other man nodded. "That is true," he conceded. Gazing at the box and the stone it contained, he questioned the Flame burning with things other than philosophical musings, wishing the familiar chess board was between them instead of that black box. "And will this star's twinkle be sufficient to entrance the moon enough to remain in its orbit? Or was it that you could not afford more?" Although he didn't really think this the case, knowing of the Brig. Gen.'s splurging where women were concerned as he did, he just wanted to probe deeper as he wasn't entirely sure on Mustang's reasoning where his granddaughter was concerned. Well, outside her rank, that is.
Roy said nothing, thinking carefully on the not-so-unrealized fear the General tabled before responding, "No, I could afford bigger," he said, watching the candlelight sparkle off the mounted gemstone. "But anything more and it would look like a proposal."
"Is it?" The question was straight forward and void of any betraying emotions the older man was certainly feeling.
Again, he refrained from answering immediately, thinking about…too much, as always. A proposal? Officially, it had to be- "No," he finished aloud. And continuing, he stated firmly, "Just a promise," to himself and to the man across from him that he held in great respect, before trailing off, "just a promise…"
"Of?"
The General hadn't gotten into Bradley's council with his naïve attitude, after all, and his peculiar interrogation method delivered with childish countenance could be unnerving at times...such as now, Roy thought sourly in considerable distraction. Because Roy respected this man on the level he did, the military father figure he'd never had growing up but something of how he'd imagined his own father would have been, he'd given the General the truth, "That when I reach the top, I'm interested in keeping her around."
"For something more than stacks of papers and quality control?" he probed further, still trying to tease the future president into making his granddaughter the 'future president's wife'.
"I don't know that I'll ever get married," Roy sighed. "I like being a bachelor and the freedom that comes with it," he finished in that same quiet tone he'd been stuck in since before the conversation had begun. Besides, being a single president had so many possibilities; some altruistic and for the good of the country, some not. "After I get my crown…then I'll think about it."
The older general smiled with his familiar and comforting childish behavior, lightly slapping his knees. "Well, considering the only thing keeping you from that is General Hakuro, I'd say that could take awhile," he laughed good-naturedly.
Yes, Roy knew. General Hakuro was his biggest opposition in the council, and with the influence he held, Roy was having a hell of a time gaining support and trust. Once the news of Bradley being the homunculus code named Pride was released to the necessary staff, a very small amount in order to prevent a scandal, the 'mock' coup from then newly promoted Brigadier General Mustang went over much smoother. However, General Hakuro was not apart of the Flame Alchemist fan club and continually used the coup as an example of why he shouldn't be trusted with a position any more influential than the one already granted by the now-dead homunculus.
"Can I ask why the moon, exactly?" the General inquired lightly and Mustang half-smiled, the box still taking up the majority of his attention.
Exhaling deeply, Roy sat up slightly so that he could turn to look out at the full, pure light filling the sky. "Because it protects me from the dark and keeps me from falling prey to that which would otherwise consume me." His gaze fell from the moon, to stare at some distant point in space. "She saves me…and keeps me safe."
"Ah, yes," the General agreed. "There is much in this world to be saved from." Looking out to the moon and then out over the crowd, he placed both hands on his knees and sighed before fixing the vacant Flame Alchemist an appraising look.
"Don't worry, my boy," the general smiled at him warmly, standing and letting a hand grip Roy's left shoulder. "I'll try to work something out." And giving him a gentle yet solid push in the shoulder, the General left Roy to his thoughts once again as he sought out the Parliament members necessary to amend a certain doctrine.
Completing a turn of the box with his fingers, he mused aloud to no one, "If I did ever get married…I think…" Breaking off with a shake of his head, he searched her out, finding her smiling as she danced with Jean, no doubt from one of his jokes or piss-sorry stories of being dumped again. "I would…only if it was you."
The inference of Riza being the General's granddaughter is taken from pg. 166 of Chp. 25. Unfortunately, I could not find out his name, so it will have to be considered a not-so-subtle implication of RxR on Arakawa's part. .;;
Inspired by Roy as he looked at Maes's funeral and kept alive by the fanfic challenge!
Editted 12-30-04: I've started a second chapter, but not sure that I'll post it. Lol! I probably will, though. But that will be the last one, no more for this story after that. P