Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story.
It's been almost half a decade since Roy thought he'd lose his dream forever. Never again would he allow himself to be in a dark place such as that dark inferno Marcoh saved him from. He has reached the top; fulfilled his vision. Tomorrow he will be Furher.
At the eve of his inauguration, Mustang requested to be alone in his house- guarded only by his chief subordinate, Lt. Col. Riza Hawkeye. As they ate the dinner Hawkeye specially prepared for the night, Roy brought up an interesting topic as he played with his wine.
"I see it scarred," he said looking through the red tinted glass.
"What scarred?" Riza asked, though she knew perfectly well which. She fixed her collar to hide it, but Roy would not relent.
"That wound you got from the bastard who almost killed you," Roy continued. Riza dropped her cutlery and looked at him with a serious face. "You know what made being blind worse?" he asked rhetorically, "The fact that the last image I saw was what could have been your dying moment," he finished chugging down the rest of his wine and setting the glass on the table. He stood up and walked to the window. The room was high enough to have a pleasant view of Amestris.
"Don't stand there too long sir, you'll be an easy target for snipers," Riza reminded.
"I did it Riza, I've reached my dream," Roy picked-up, paying no attention to Riza's warning. "Tomorrow, I am Fuhrer," he said solemnly facing her. Riza then stood from her seat and approached him, pulling him away from the danger that came with the window. Roy grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. "Thank you for getting me up here," he said to her.
"Roy, it is well worth the effort," she replied as she lifted her other hand and sandwiched his between her palms, "it gave me something to do." Riza was the first one to break from the moment- catching her senses before things developed further.
"It's time for you to sleep, we wouldn't want you to not look your best tomorrow," she joked and was about to make her way to the door.
"Riza, let's talk about your retirement," he blurted.
"My retirement?" Riza replied, turning around in shock, "Sir, I think it's too early for us to be talking of it."
"Riza," Roy began sweetly smiling at her, "I want you to retire after tomorrow. I think it's about time we both have lives beyond this dream of mine."
Riza was silent, but disapprovingly questioning. She waited for Roy to expound as if waiting for a reasonable explanation to an abominable act.
"Tomorrow I am Fuhrer. Tomorrow I have earned your dowry," he revealed sending sparks of shock in Riza's widening eyes.
"Dowry, Roy?"
"I made a deal with your grandfather a few years back. The old General knew that I burned your back and demanded that I take responsibility for ruining his beautiful granddaughter in more ways than one," Roy explained in a light, slightly comedic tone, "After beating me at yet another game of chess, General Grumman emphasized that I am not allowed to touch you unless I become Fuhrer." Roy made his approach slowly, sensitive to Riza's gun. By the time they were inches apart, Riza was going to speak but was reprimanded by Roy's kiss.
It was the first time, in a long time that he'd done so. The last time was while he was silencing her screams as flames burned through her tattooed skin. She kissed him back fiercely, knowing that it was what they have both wanted.
"You're not Furher yet," Riza whispered when Roy tried to make a pass on her removing her clothes. She stopped the kiss he was about to give her with her finger and smiled mischievously, "let's save something for tomorrow night." She pushed him loose and went on her way to her room down the hall. Leaving Roy happy and amused."I want that letter at my desk by 7 in the morning! Effective immediately Lieutenant!" he shouted to the hall.