SHORT INTRODUCING NOTES

This is a translation from an Italian Story. You can read it in Italian at this link: Hallelujah

This story comes from my love for Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen's song, that I don't own.

This is the analysis of Riza's adolescence, and all her interaction with love. In every chapter I'll quote a part of the song; the chapters will be chronologically indirectly connected, so between each one of them there could be temporal jumps (obviously specified). All the other information are on the Author's note at the end of each chapter, that I recommend to read

Hallelujah

#1 – The First Meeting

Well I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do you?

Riza let herself slip on the bed. Her arms and her back, aching from the cleaning she did that afternoon, didn't let her breath. Usually she didn't struggle so much, but that day was, so to speak, special. Or, at least, different from the others.

That day the boy arrived.

'Mr. Mustang' she corrected herself 'It's better if I don't give him too much confidence. I don't want to have anything to do with him or with Alchemy.'

She had met him that morning, when she'd opened the door to go out drying rack.

"Hello" he said smiling "My name is Roy Mustang and I'm looking for Master Hawkeye."

The girl, caught off guard, stared at him for seconds, until she pull herself apart to let him go inside.

"I… I'm Riza Hawkeye. I'll…I'll call him."

"I guess you're his daughter."

"Guess right, Sir Mustang."

So she made him sit down on the couch, while she walked on the long hallway that separated the light and warm house from her father's creepy studio.

"Da…dad, there's a boy at the door. He's looking for you. He called you Master."

The man, perpetually bent over his books, get up his head, nodding.

"Send him there. And let us alone until we'll go out."

Riza excused herself and called the young man, that in the while had gotten up from the couch and was observing the room. When the girl arrived, he looked at her and, always smiling gently, approached her.

"Do you two live alone? Are you the one who does all the cleaning?"

"Yes to both the question, Mr. Mustang."

Then she sent him to the studio and started to clean, feeling ashamed for the situation, guessing the boy had seen the dust all over the house.

While she was polishing the floor, she thought about what the boy could want from them.

"He called my father Master, so I guess he want to be his pupil. And the only thing my father pay attention to is…'

Alchemy.

Thinking about that science, which gave her shivers, a disgusting expression distorted her face. She never liked it, and that erased her damaged bond with her grouch father. After Riza's mother's death he always studied for his Search of Power, almost forgetting her. It was like that science has taken her family away from her. Each time she thought about it, she became gloomy. Although, she smiled thinking about how her father would've probably treated Sir Mustang.

'In the end, I don't care about neither him or Alchemy.'

Still on the bed, Riza admitted she lied to herself, that afternoon: when Mustang left the studio, along with Berthold Hawkeye, she felt really at unease. That boy, in a few hours, caught her father's interest and made him left his studio, which neither her, who was his daughter, could do easily.

"Oh, Riza! You did a great job! This house now is much more comfortable than this morning."

Riza looked amazed at Mustang, putting down a flower pot she had just filled up.

"Thank you, Sir. Since it's late, I've prepared a room, if thou want to stay for the night. Don't hesitate ask for something if thou need."

"Very well, Riza. Anyway, Sir Mustang will stay with us as my pupil from now on."

An astonished expression was painted on the girl's face, but she managed to remain silent at the sight of her father's firmness; she went to the kitchen to cook the dinner, during which she did well.

She took her leave after she said goodbye to Sir Mustang and her father; then, lost in her thoughts, she stared at the dark ceiling of her room, asking herself why the sight of her father giving attentions to that guy was so painful.

The next morning, while she was making the breakfast, Riza almost split it.

"Good Morning! Need a hand?"

The boy had arrived from behind and frightened her, causing almost a mess.

"Everything is okay, Sir Mustang. Do thou want some coffee? There's some milk, too."

"Stop calling me Sir, Riza, really! You made me feel old. Anyway, the coffee is enough."

The girl raised her shoulder, while the boy sat at the table and waited for the drink.

"It's about manners, Sir. People should be respectful of elder ones."

"How old are you, Riza?"

"Eleven years old, Sir."

"I'm only fifteen, Miss. I don't think you should respect me by calling me 'Sir'. Anyway, I'll live there until my education will be fulfilled, so I'll be very pleased if you could call me simply Roy."

"As your wish, Sir… ehm, Roy…?"

Riza made it sound as a question, and the boy laughed slightly, hiding himself with the cup of coffee.

'Actually, he's not so bad.' Thought Riza 'He's kind, careful, and has good manners; probably he comes from the city. It may be worse.'

"Yesterday I had the opportunity to know your father. Master Hawkeye seems a trustworthy person. Of course, he's strange and grouch, but a good man I would say."

Riza's thoughts stopped abruptly at Mustang's words, and she froze while washing a cup. On her mind came up memories of inhuman screams, foul flavors, and the terror that reigned when her father was near to the final solution, but he couldn't reach it. She remembered the sound of the study put on a mess, the books thrown against the walls and the shouts of frustration that echoed along the house, even under the table where Riza hid to escape that chaos.

She hated the fact that Roy Mustang didn't understood who he was talking about, but moreover she hated that the good impression that her father gave to that boy was again the demonstration that an alchemy pupil was more important than his daughter.

She went to the door, looking to Mustang.

"Trust me, Roy, thou have still to know him. When he will have one of his crisis…don't hide with me under the table."

Roy turned around, but she was gone.

"Hiding under the table? Who knows what she was talking about…"

Author's notes:

I'll admit that writing this first chapter have been very difficult, and so did translating it.

I choose to try to translate this story because it is very important to me and I wanted to reach the more readers I could, to make people read it and give me their opinions. So, if you notice any grammatical mistake, tell me and I'll immediately correct. After all, I'm only an Italian-almost-eighteen-years-old girl and even if I love English, I'm only human.

Said that, I would like to briefly talk about this chapter.

This time I analyze father-daughter relationship. Riza wants her father to look at her, to notice and award her diligence on housework and cooking, all her little wins, but it's not like that. He only thinks about his alchemy, and this is why Riza hates it. Obviously, at Mustang's arrive, who achieves to gain his Master attention which Riza had never had, she's very angry. So, this is a testily, angry, wounded Hallelujah: Riza still sees that man as her father, and she's been hurt by his indifference.

Obviously the good relationship between Roy and Berthold won't last long; Riza knows well his father and his demons.

About the quotes: I made a parallelism. David is Roy, the Lord is Berthold and Music, obviously, is Alchemy.

Tell me what you think, I'd be very pleased.

With love,

Elizabeth