Quick Riza-centric piece here, guys. I've been writing other Royai, but I don't want to post it on this site due to it's rating... ah well. Enjoy! I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
The good soldier kept everything that represented him or herself on a thin silver chain. It was the person's own identity in the Military; the heavy silver tags engraved with intricate details on the soldier should said soldier come back from a mission mutilated beyond recognition. Riza was thankful that she was not yet one of those unfortunates.
The dog tags hang heavily about her neck. She knows all too well what they say from her days of staring blankly at them in Ishbal. i Hawkeye, Second Lieutenant under Major Mustang. Blood Type A. No allergies. /i The opposite side of the tag was bedecked with a large motif of the Amestris Army insignia. This was who she was and still is, regardless of irrelevant change in rank.
Unlike most soldiers, however, Riza Hawkeye chose to keep things other than her own chiselled identity close to her. Absently, she draws the thin silver chain from under her shirt and tangles it about her fingers. Next to her own dog tags hang two slightly rusted strips of metal were her deceased parents' ID tags, salvaged by her grandfather for both their sakes. He had once said to her (shortly after their joint funeral and burial) that she had to live for both of them. She replied that she lived for herself, and he had given her a weak grin and handed her the tags. She had been wearing them ever since.
The second thing hanging around her neck that was not hers was her mother's engagement ring; a simple gold-plated band that her mother and father had left with her before the mission that has ultimately taken their lives. More reminiscence on her behalf. She had rarely been one for being caught in the past but at the time, it had seemed appropriate for her to keep this safe. It held the dedication of both her parents; a dedication she had very apparently inherited.
The third and final trinket was one of the many cheap, superfluous gifts Mustang had given her over Christmases. This is what they and indeed his whole group of subordinates did for each other; general gifts that could neither be exchanged or really refused; decorations for desks, blurred photographs in rough wooden frames. This Christmas the Colonel had apparently acquired some sense of sarcastic humour, and with Hayate bounding around his feet had presented her with a simple steel charm in the shape of a paw print. She had never told him she had worn it ever since.
The thin silver chains and all of its attached pendants quickly disappeared back under the confines of her jacket as the Colonel entered the room. With a slightly suppressed grin, she continues her work. Riza Hawkeye lived for herself, but those she cared for were never forgotten, and are always close.
END