Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and its affiliates do not belong to me, nor will they ever.

Tadaa! My first ever RoyAi, inspired by episode 50 and an obscure fixation on scars… and eye patches.

By Rights

By Tanya Lilac

The apartment was growing dark. Silence had settled like the sun over the horizon and the dust on the hardwood floors. A bouquet of white lilies tied with yellow ribbons sat in a glass vase by the window; one of the few feminine touches to the room. Otherwise, this apartment was clearly one that belonged to a soldier. The bed sheets were blue and infinitely soft- another one of her luxuries- but completely unwrinkled. The kitchen was orderly and what constituted to the lounge room was neat and orderly; almost uncomfortable looking in its cleanliness.

Roy Mustang smirked. Their clothes had looked out of place, scattered across the floor. He hadn't thought she would have minded.

Black Hayate barked playfully, his tail wagging enthusiastically, breaking the man's reverie. Roy absentmindedly crouched down and scratched behind the dog's ears as he stared unseeingly at the floor.

Silence. It seemed to have a … song, yes. Silence had a song of its own. Funny, he would never really have thought this bef-

Both the dog and the man stilled as they heard the soft footfalls of a woman. Roy stood and inclined his head at the woman he'd come to call his lover.

"You spoil him," she said quietly, her eyes bemused as Black Hayate padded out of the room.

He shrugged. "Well, with you as a mother, I can only suppose he needs it."

She was silent, but continued to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, posture habitually perfect, a thin robe warding her against the slight autumn chill. She looked up suddenly and met his gaze. "Have you been waiting long?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Did you want something to drink?" She asked, finally shutting the door behind her as she walked to the kitchen, each step light and fluid, and Roy close behind her.

He didn't say anything, but she noticed he was looking at the flowers again.

"Perhaps-"

"Leave them there," she said quietly, as she poured wine into two glasses. Red wine- she'd never been able to enjoy the lighter, white wines. "It's fine where you put them." She handed him the glass and paused. She looked at him again. Time had changed them both. She liked to think it had all been for the better.

He smirked as if he knew her thoughts, and their glasses chimed softly as they made a silent toast. Finally, she took a sip, the wine warming her limbs.

Suddenly, Riza took another fluid step, closing the gap between them. He took her hand silently as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

"You should come more often," she murmured quietly, breathing in the smell of his cologne. Something about it made her blood rush violently; he was far more potent than wine. With another one of those quietly assured smiles of his, Roy leaned down and captured her lips chastely, releasing her hand and pulling her close to him.

"Maybe you should ask me to come over more often," he replied, his lips brushing against hers. Her eyes were half lidded, framed by lashes that gleamed gold in the setting sun.

"Perhaps," she smiled, taking another sip.

He placed the glass back onto the bench, the blood red liquid no longer swirling inside. Taking the unspoken hint, she copied his actions and reached up to cup his cheek with her cool fingertips, grazing across the strap of his eye patch. He had not worried as much as she had. By rights…

All rational thought fled from her mind as he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss, far less chaste than their previous one. His fingers tangled in her damp hair while his other hand pressed her body into his, fingers splayed possessively against the small of her back.

They pulled away for air, chills running across his skin, as always. He wasn't sure what he said, but as he kissed the soft skin of her collarbone, he growled something low and fast. She had understood the lust and groaned softly as he left his mark on her, almost breaking through porcelain skin.

Her hands began to work feverishly on the shirt he wore as he guided them back out of the kitchen towards her bedroom.

Yes, this was how it had been the first time- and should be.

One button, then two – her heart was fluttering and his shirt was gone. They were in her bedroom now, panting. He was murmuring words of lust against her skin, and she was tracing the planes of his shoulders with her eyes shut as he kissed her worshipfully.

With a blissful sigh, they fell back onto the bed, lost in the sudden sensuality of crisp sheets against heated skin. Reverentially, he kissed her lips softly, with another smile, as his fingers danced across her skin, opening the cotton robe.

"Tease," she murmured.

"Surely, you would have expected it," he retorted, placing swift kisses on her cream hued skin as the garment fell open at his touch.

Riza growled in frustration and pulled him back to her mouth, capturing his lips roughly. He responded in kind and she winced as he drew blood from her. When he pulled away, her lips were swollen and her eyes glazed with lust. She lay still, her chest rising and falling with her breaths, as he ran his calloused hands from her exposed shoulders to her slender hips. She murmured appreciatively as he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse thudding in his mouth. Soon, there was no telling where she ended and he began. Yes, he thought as he caressed her yet again, this was how it was meant to be.

Later, as the couple lay satiated and replete within the plush folds of her blanket, Riza's thoughts returned suddenly to what she had been thinking about earlier.

She silently reached out and traced the scar on his chest, one of the few marks on his body. He watched her as he lazily drew circles on her back with his finger. Riza looked up at him and kissed him wordlessly before returning to her musings.

Yes, now, they could take their time to think. Resting her head against his chest as she breathed in his scent, Riza could not help but wonder. They had said everything they would ever say about that night- not because there was nothing else there was to talk about, but because they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Roy hadn't known her for twelve years for nothing.

She reached up and ran her fingers through his luxuriant hair, her eyes sliding shut as he caressed her cheek. By rights, he should not have been able to survive. Between the Homunculus and the power crazed Archer, Roy should not have been able to walk away with so few injuries. Equivalent exchange demanded an eye for an eye. All of those lives, lost, stolen; Ishbal… surely, retribution…? No, he had been a means to an end. The problem solver, not the problem.

She sighed, watching as his skin turned to gooseflesh. With a smile, she placed delicate kisses on his chest.

By rights, he shouldn't be here. By rights, she probably would have died years ago, too. But these moments- the time to think and breathe, with him, no less- she would not give up for anything. Not now.

Perhaps, she thought as she traced the outlines of the scar once again, the law of equivalent exchange was best left to alchemists.