I was going through my documents and found this little gem, all there and waiting to be posted. I hope you enjoy it! Happy New Year!
Riza Hawkeye stood over the bathroom sink, hand covering her mouth and tears silently trekking down her face.
In front of her was her worst nightmare confirmed: a positive pregnancy test.
The invention was fairly new, and she had been apprehensive about the accuracy, but the positive result coupled with the bouts of sickness she had continually experienced over the past few weeks left no doubt in her mind. Riza Hawkeye was going to be a mother at the age of seventeen.
Contraception was hard to come by, especially in the rural area she lived in, so whenever she and her father's alluring apprentice, Roy Mustang, managed to sneak in quickie, it had always been a gamble – a stupid one, she now realised.
Her father was going to kill her. Instances like this were pretty uncommon, and even when they did happen, the couple was usually immediately married to avoid public ridicule. But since Roy had left for the military several weeks ago that was impossible, and Riza was quite sure her father wouldn't want him back anyway.
"Riza!" almost as if on cue, Berthold Hawkeye rapped his knuckles loudly on the door. "Hurry up in there!"
"Sorry father" she called out listlessly, quickly wrapping up the test in toilet paper and shoving it in her back pocket. There was no way she was going to leave it around where he could find it, even if it was in the trash. No, she would discard of it outside the house, unwilling to take any chances.
Dear Roy,
No, that sounded too intimate.
To Roy,
Too detached.
Roy,
Ah yes. Short and straight to the point, the perfect metaphor for their relationship.
I keep delay writing this letter because I'm afraid of what your response may be – or lack thereof in fact. I've tried at least about a hundred times but then get too emotional or paranoid that my father will come in and see it.
Riza looked over her shoulder out of habit.
I'm not sure when or if you'll ever see this, but you deserve to know. I'm pregnant. It's yours of course, but I don't expect you to return or do anything for me. I understand. I'm not even sure if I'm going to keep it. I know I wouldn't be a good mother. It would probably be better off with someone else. I just thought you should know there's a child out there with your genes, as cold as it sounds.
Best of luck in the military.
Riza Hawkeye.
She exhaled loudly as she finished the letter, quickly folding it up and slipping it into an envelope as she prepared to leave and mail it.
"Riza?"
The young girl almost screamed as her father startled her. "Father! Uh, yes?"
Berthold gave the girl a once-over as Riza prayed he didn't notice the letter in her hand. She had few friends, and those she did have she visited often, so there was no reason for her to be mailing or receiving mail from anyone.
Thankfully, he didn't comment on it. "Come with me to my study. I need your help with something."
Riza breathed a sigh of relief, and in her panic tossed the envelope into the fireplace, watching the paper curl up and burn before joining her father in the study.
It hurt.
God, her back stung so badly and she could do nothing but scream silently, having lost her voice minutes ago.
She let tears fall silently as her father held her down, scarring her body with the disgusting array, simply praying to whatever gods she could think of that her baby would be okay.
There was no way she could keep it.
She couldn't even keep herself safe.
At five months, a faint baby bump finally became visible through Riza's normal clothes. At six months, it surpassed her baggier attire, leaving nothing to be assumed.
By some odd twist of fate, it was also around this time that Berthold became dreadfully sick to the point of being bedridden.
A blessing in disguise, Riza supposed as her father shouted to be left alone.
The first time she felt the baby kick, Riza couldn't stop the happy feeling bubbling up inside her. That, she decided, was the moment that it finally felt real.
She began speaking to it, spilling her secrets like she had so often found herself doing to Roy before, leading her to tell the foetus stories about its father.
"I'm sorry you couldn't meet him" she found herself apologising one sleepless night, "I'm sure he would have loved you, but I couldn't do that to him. I suppose that's unfair to you" she admitted, stroking her stomach absent-mindedly, "but you'll have another father, another mother too, I suppose. They'll be able to look after you."
It was true, Riza had long resigned herself to the fact that she would give up her baby, but she couldn't help but feel disheartened at the notion. She was quickly becoming attached to the being inside of her, but knew it would be best to give it up.
She couldn't intrude on Roy's life, take away his dreams of alchemy and the military. He deserved to be successful, and Riza couldn't begrudge him that.
Admittedly, Riza had entertained the notion of keeping the baby, but knew it couldn't be done. She and her father were currently living off of his savings, and once that run out, Riza wouldn't be able to get a job with a baby to care for. She couldn't condemn a child to a life of beggary, not when she could ensure they were given a good home and loving family.
"I'm sorry" she whispered to the child, smiling slightly as it kicked back.
Perhaps that was their way of telling her they forgave her.
Riza never told her father about the pregnancy, but as time passed the two reached a 'don't ask don't tell' understanding.
As he was cared for by his now seventeen-year-old daughter, Berthold simply stared silently at her. One day he broke the silence, simply saying "I wonder if it'll be an alchemist."
Riza bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to hold back insults. "I guess you'll never know."
Much to Riza's surprise, Berthold regained the little health he had left to witness the birth of his grandchild, who came a month too early.
The teenager was woken up by the painful contractions in the early hours of the morning and endured it for the next few hours until Berthold sent her to the hospital, complaining that her pained noises were exhausting him.
Riza walked to the small hospital in town alone, frightened and desperate for some kind of relief by the time she arrived.
The nurses weren't comforting and sympathetic, or judgemental and cold, but rather calm and methodical. The process seemed to last hours when in reality Riza only had a half-hour left in labour before finally, between her own screams, she heard the wails of a child, and suddenly the rest of the room seemed to black out as Riza set her eyes on the tiny infant in one of the nurses' arms.
"It's a boy," one of the nurses informed her monotonously.
Riza smiled weakly and tried to push herself up in bed as they brought the baby over to her.
"Would you like to hold your son?"
"Y-yeah" she said, her voice strained from all the screaming.
The nurse carefully placed the child in his mother's waiting arms and Riza sobbed.
He was tiny. Smaller than a newborn should be as he was premature, and while it had initially frightened her, he was still perfect.
"Hey, baby. I'm your mummy" she said shakily, all thoughts of adoption out the window. She loved this child with all her heart and now that he was here, she couldn't stand the thought of someone taking him away.
"Would you like us to alert the father now? We can have all the paperwork here soon for him to fill out while you rest" a nurse asked kindly.
Riza didn't look away from the baby "oh, no, my dad is-" she paused, realising they meant the father of her child, not Berthold. "There's no one" she said quietly.
The nurse simply nodded.
"Okay, well I'll get those papers ready for you now. You'll need to fill out his birth certificate along with several medical documents."
Riza didn't reply, too wrapped up in the baby in her arms.
He had to be the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
He clearly favoured Riza, with her skin complexion, eyes and little tufts of blonde hair sticking up in an almost antenna-like way. However he did have his father's nose and bone-structure. She suspected he would look more like Roy later in life.
When he opened his eyes for the first time she was surprised to see the dazzling gold most reminiscent of the Xerxian people. She had no idea where those genes could have come from.
"You need a name, don't you little one" Riza said quietly as the infant stared up at her, almost as if he was studying her face. "How about Edward?"