Welcome to Royai Week, Day 1! My goal this year is to make a one shot for each day this week, and this is only the first of the Royai one shots. I hope you all enjoy this (as much fun I had typing this in an hour and a half). Please do not forgot to review this when you are finished, I want to hear your thoughts. Constructive criticism is always welcome :-)
The infernal war raging outside the makeshift tent was oddly silent that night.
Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye was wide awake in her cot, staring at nothing except the "ceiling" of the tent hastily put together by herself and her apparent roommate, Second Lieutenant Nogomi Arami. She was glad that her roommate had an alcohol problem and drank every night in an effort to not remember the day's horrific events, but on the days that she actually tried to sleep in her cot, she would snore loudly and wake the entire squadron as she saw vivid nightmares, which only keeps Riza up all night and puts her in a very bad mood the next day. On those days of course, no one walks pasts Riza and stays alive to tell the tale.
Tonight, thankfully, there was a secret meeting between the Second Lieutenant and one of the Warrant Officers. Riza believed the Warrant Officer had just been shipped straight from the academy right to the battlefield, and for a second, an image of a young woman with short blond hair with a white coat donned over the normal military coat of the Amestrians holding a rifle on top of a crumbling building in Ishval crossed her mind. Riza shivered in her cot, clutching the rough blanket even closer to her body. No, there shall be no memories of Ishval tonight.
"I should probably try to get some shut eye," Riza mumbled to herself, "or I won't be any use to the Major General tomorrow."
After the Promised Day ended, General Gruman quickly rose to the spot of Fuhrer. Any and all people that betrayed the country of Amestris were executed on the spot, according to Law 4938 that was enacted almost a week after he was promoted. Any and all military personnel that helped to save their country, like Mustang and his subordinates, were promoted accordingly. Mustang became a Major General in Central City, and was allowed to keep his former set of subordinates. Hawkeye had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, Havoc (when he came back), to First Lieutenant, Fuery to Warrant Officer, Falman to Second Lieutenant, Breda to First Lieutenant. Edward Elric originally had been promoted all the way to Lieutenant General, but quickly left the military, opting for the quiet life in Resembool. Alphonse left for Xing after he was well enough to go about on his own, hoping to find May Chang again.
"Ugh, go to sleep already," Riza commanded her body, but to no avail.
Suddenly the flap on the tent moved inwards. Riza thought at first it had been the wind, but there was almost no breeze tonight. Instead tonight was one of those silent nights out in the South, with only the crickets chirping nearby. Riza realized then it had to be a movement of the fingers. A simple flick can move a piece of fabric in the direction you want it to, and Riza was pretty sure she had also heard something hit the tent.
Riza rose out of the cot and grabbed her gun from underneath her pillow. Putting on her slippers, she walked quickly to the flaps of the tent. She stopped there, listening in for any kind of sounds. However, no sounds were out of the ordinary, and Riza sighed. What had hit the flap of the tent?
"Lieutenant Colonel, are you there?" a low voice whispered. Riza knew that voice anywhere.
From inside the tent, she replied quietly. "You weren't supposed to be discharged until tomorrow, General. I doubt that wound has healed yet." Her tone remained professional the entire time. Now was not the time to be messing around; at this rate, Mustang will be found here and get dragged all the way back across the forts to the makeshift hospital ward.
"It's fine, Colonel. Now am I going to stand out here and die in the cold?" His voice sounded impatient. Perhaps he had gotten some important information from the higher ups, or even better, the enemy themselves.
Riza sighed again and opened the flap the tiniest bit, giving Major General Roy Mustang the invitation to come inside. Once inside, Riza put the gun in the holster on the side of her pants.
"What are you doing out here so late at night?" Riza asked first. It was best to get that out of the way first.
"The hospital ward is overcrowding right now with all the new patients and the injured people from today's bombings. Did you know that Aerugo bombed us twelve times?" Mustang deflected the original question, as usual, as he scratched his hair. Riza internally groaned.
"Must you always be such a child sometimes?" she asked. "To answer your question, no I didn't, not until now anyways. However we did take out a few of their higher ups. Hopefully we will be able to end this war soon."
"Yes, it has gone on long enough," Mustang said, looking off to the side, particularly at the bouquet of flowers sitting on the nightstand. "Who gave you those flowers? They're beautiful." A smirk started to form on his lips.
"Only the very best flowers from the local stall nearby Southern Command, and lilies of them all. Of course they were delivered by dear Vanessa, how sweet she is." Riza smiled. "Although the idea behind it was very enchanting, General."
"So you got the message," he said. "I wonder why he's back. He said he wouldn't, but he is. Why?"
"I haven't the slightest clue, General. I have yet to see him on the battlefield as well. Have you come across him, sir?"
Roy didn't answer the question. "We're alone, Riza."
"Then go by code names. It's far too dangerous out here. We could be heard by the higher ups, and then you know what will happen."
Riza collapsed on the bed. Normally with Mustang around, she would be wide awake with the idea of rage, but tonight, she wanted to sleep more than anything else. That was strange, she thought. Why am I not mad at him like usual?
"As you wish, Elizabeth." Mustang bowed. "Are you tired? I'm pretty sure I woke you up. I do apologize for my poor manners. I should let you sleep now."
Riza shook her head. Was her apparent drowsiness showing on her face. "I'm fine, sir. Your health is more important."
"I cannot do things if my back is not guarded as well as it should be. You should be worried about yourself, never mind me."
"And you are also walking around with a flesh wound on your thigh, one that shouldn't have healed in two days. At this rate you will - sir!"
Riza watched as Roy Mustang swayed left and right, obviously still imbalanced since his wound had not fully healed yet, and collapsed on the ground. She quickly raced to him and dropped to her knees, checking first the wound, which had turned to a nasty shade of purple and black, with green on the side, and then his forehead, which was burning slightly. Gasping, she got up and hoisted Mustang up and carried him onto her cot. The hospital ward was too far away to make him go to, and he did not seem like he would die within the next forty eight hours. Riza decided to let him stay in her tent that night, and come up with a story for this in case the higher ups caught wind of this.
Laying him down on his back. Riza elevated the injured leg on an extra pillow (so what if the extra pillow was the Second Lieutenant's?) and placed a cold compress on the General's forehead. She felt for his temperature, and after deciding that it was best to make a bowl of soup for him, Riza went to the small burning fire outside the tent to heat up some water and the leftover dinner that she had secretly snuck to her tent. Maybe it was a good thing she saved her leftovers.
When she came back inside, she heard a moan come out of the General's lips. "Riza," she heard, then a moment later, "Riza."
"You're delusional, General," was all she said. Just because her superior officer was sick did not mean that she lowered her guard. No, this was a battlefield, she had to keep it up. In Central City, she can lower it the tiniest bit, but not out here. Not out here.
"Ishval," he moaned. "No, no, no."
So that was it. Under the spells of the illness was a Mustang who still had nightmares of the Eastern Rebellion that occurred so many years before. Riza knew. After so many years of having to not only deal with her own wild nightmares that replayed so many nights out there but also take care of Mustang and his flaming nightmares, she knew how to tend to this. But would it be okay? Would she be found out by the higher ups? For all she knew, the Fuhrer could be out there, inspecting the camp.
"I'll take the risk," she muttered under her breath. "It is, after all, for the General's benefit."
She sat down on the portion of the cot that wasn't occupied by Mustang, which was to say, the edge of it. She grasped the man's hand, but then one of her hands mindlessly wandered over to the cold compress on his forehead. It was warm, and Riza got up instantly. She immediately went outside to the water bucket and dipped the cloth in the cold water. Taking it out, she carried it back inside and laid it back on his forehead.
"Cold," he muttered, "it's chilly out here."
For a second, Riza wondered if he was going to catch the influenza going around Sector Four right now, but a thought in her head dismissed the idea. It was the middle of the winter, and he was only wearing a hospital gown right now. Of course he'd be cold. Riza picked up the blanket from the Second Lieutenant's cot and draped it over the General.
"General?" she asked quietly a few hours later. The sun was beginning to rise over the hills to the east.
"Major," came a response. "What happened?"
"You collapsed a few minutes after you came here. What were you thinking? You are obviously not healed yet; you need to stay put in the hospital ward. Now they're going to make you stay overtime and you won't be able to catch up in your work," Riza scolded.
The General hung his head in shame. "Falman, Fuery, Havoc, Breda?"
"All should be in Sector Seven today, working on the cleaning up of the buildings over there," Riza reported. "The bombings were the worst over there. I doubt Aerugo will be making a move between now and a few days from now."
"On the contrary. They will use the time to hopefully kill us all," Mustang sighed. "I should - "
Riza cut him off. "No. That's an order, even if you are higher up than me." Her hand rested on the gun holster, ready to take it out and aim whenever necessary.
"I didn't think so," Mustang sighed reluctantly. "Do you still have them, by the way?"
Riza turned to look at him. "Eat your cold soup, then I'll answer your question."
As Mustang sat up in the cot and began to sip at the liquid, Riza took the time to think. Why is still concerned about Ishval and those nightmares? Shouldn't he be more concerned for his own? I mean, he did prove to me last night that he still had them, but then again, I also thought about Ishval last night, and those horrors. Though mine were not as bad as his, maybe I didn't kill masses at once with a single snap, but a pull of the trigger and a life ends right then and there, and the last thing you see is an innocent face crumble into nothing.
No, I can't let him know that I still scream and cry over it. It's in the past, I should let it stay there. I need to learn from it and move on, not reminisce in it like it only happened yesterday. The Promised Day nightmares are nothing compared to Ishval, why can't I have those a little more?
I didn't feel guilt when I killed the betrayers, maybe it was because they had committed treason against their own country, but I didn't feel remorse. Why can't -
"Elizabeth, always lost in your thoughts," Roy Mustang commented. "I know what you're thinking. The Eastern Conflict still concerns you?"
"It is nothing," Riza dismissed with a wave of her hand, but Mustang stopped it.
"I am not going to dismiss it as nothing, Elizabeth," Mustang said. "I know you too well for that. You will beat yourself up over it night after night, you will yell in the dead of the night and clutch a blanket harder than you hold a gun, you will cry into this exact pillow right here in the middle of it with teardrops from the rain, you will pretend the thoughts don't exist, but you always forget that I know you too well. So many years spent together with both happy and painful memories, and yet you forget that I, Roy Mustang, know you. Don't pretend, because I can read you like an open book."
Riza said nothing as she stared hard and coldly at the empty cot belonging to the Second Lieutenant. Suck up the tears, Major, don't let him know.
"And I know you're pretending to suck up the tears over there too. You've always been a sucker for some things, and this is one of them, Elizabeth."
It's too late, he already knows, her conscience says. You can't fake it any longer, Riza.
"And I know that you see the fire burning every time you blink, every single person that burns to their death. You see buildings catching fire, you see fire burning even in the pits of hell, you see their faces turning into horror as a snap of your fingers ends their innocent life. You see nothing but flames but yet you continue to use it, and I know you suffer oh so painfully as every time there's a snap, there's Ishval replaying again and again, like a tape that rewinds every single second of Ishval. When you sleep, the guard goes down and all there is is Ishval from you, and I know you still suffer, even though you pass it off as the Promised Day the next morning. I see you getting drunk every other week and I know, it's Ishval that got to you that day, regardless of the day's events. Even paperwork makes you remember, and sometimes when I see the fire dimming down in your eyes, I take a portion of your stack, hoping you forget. Then you go out to Madam Christmas's that night, taking the men with you and myself for the supervisor, and you get all drunk and have sexual chat with the ladies that night, trying to forget, even though you remember the scene the very next day. Yes Roy Mustang, you too also forget that I know you and can read you like a book. The simplest turn of your ankle lets me know that you are indeed thinking about the Eastern Conflict, like you are right now."
Roy Mustang shook his hand, letting out a laugh. "I guess we are the pages we write."
"I suppose, if you word it like that. Are you done with your soup?" With a nod of his head, Riza took the bowl and set it in the corner designated for the washing today. "Now, we should get you to the hospital ward, or otherwise - " Riza was cut off by the snores of the General.
"You are always a difficult man when you can be," Riza smiled. Noting the time on her watch, she set an alarm for the next hour. "I suppose we can rest together for the next hour, and then we get up and take you over to get checked at again."
As Roy Mustang, Major General of the Amestrian Military and the Flame Alchemist, laid on his side, Riza climbed into the same cot and was held closely by her superior officer. His hands enveloped around the woman, and her arms were wrapped around his toned abs.
Neither of them dreamed of Ishval or anything particularly horrific for the next hour, and even though they would never admit it themselves, they both quite liked it sleeping together in that position very much.
Neither of them knew that Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Fuery had captured pictures of this event, nor of the money they handed over to each other as they gossiped over their one true pairing. Royai is real, they declared, and left the two of them like that, until their alarm clock shrilly woke them up a few minutes later.
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