Summary: In a private conversation, the Führer questions the life Lieutenant Hawkeye has chosen, confronting her with an alternative. Contribution to Royai-week, prompt "Opportunity".
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa.
Please enjoy!
A short knock disrupted the silence that has settled in the Führer's office after his advisers had left for lunch break.
"Come in."
The door opened slightly and with a happy "Ruff!" the small Shiba Inu that had grown on the man jumped in, maintaining an proper distance to the head of Amestris while his mistress closed the door behind her. She turned around, long, blond hair flowing freely behind her back and her hand snapped up in a crisp salute.
"Riza, dear, please! I called you here for a private chat, no need to be so formal."
The face of the young Lieutenant softened and she readily reciprocated the embrace the Führer offered her, albeit shortly; she was hardly used to this kind of affection.
"Grandfather," Riza answered him, sitting down on a chair in front of Führer Grumman's desk, Hayate sitting down next to her obediently. "How are the things going?"
"Well, I've got a lot to clean up, as expected," Grumman chuckled lightly as he leaned back into his chair, his eyes mustering her over the rim of his glasses, "but I'm sure Mustang keeps you updated on everything. Let's rather talk about you, my dear. Are you coping with your neck?"
Riza's hand touched the scar on the left side of her neck subconsciously, with a little too much force as she started to wince slightly.
"It still bothers me from time to time," she admitted, fully aware that lying would get her nowhere - Roy not only kept her updated on military issues, he also kept Grumman updated on his subordinates, "or when I'm making sudden movements. But it's alright; it doesn't prevent me from getting ready for Ishval."
Grumman sighed.
"Ah, yes, yes, the Ishvalan restoration. I got Mustang's request of transfer just this morning. Are you sure you are ready to go, Riza?"
"Well, of course," she answered, her hazel eyes donning a questioning look. "I have already terminated my rental agreement to the end of this month and I'm nearly packed. I'm good to go."
Grumman pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows scrunching up, which confused Riza furthermore.
"That's not what I - Riza, dear," he changed his strategy, leaning forward to the young woman, extending his hands towards her and lightly squeezing the hand she had given him in response. "Look at you. You are a stunning, beautiful, young woman. You are intelligent, witty and affectionate. Have you never thought of quitting the military? Never thought of settling down, starting your own family?"
Riza gulped soundlessly, maintaining a steady expression nonetheless. Which girl hadn't dreamed of starting a family sometime in her life? Of course Riza had thought about that; mostly during her teenage years when a certain black-haired apprentice of her father had doubled as her future husband in her dreams.
But those dreams where a part of her past and that was where those dreams were supposed to stay - even though they occasionally resurfaced, there was no way she would try to pursuit them.
"Grandfather, please. Who would I start a family with? I already have a family. I have you, I have Hayate, I have my team members –"
"Actually," Grumman cleared his throat and eyed his granddaughter with a hint of smugness in his glance, "I think I have the perfect match for you."
"Excuse me?!" Riza draw her hand back in, hitting the arm rest of the chair she was sitting in with her balled up fist. "Are you trying to tell me that you're planning to set me up with some random man?"
"He is anything but random, dear," Grumman tried to calm the furious blonde, waiting for her accelerated breathing to even out, "he's got the most spectacular references a woman could wish for! He is an aspiring officer, just about to be promoted to a Brigadier General, he has already served in Central and proved to be an excellent strategist during the coup against Bradley, even though he could never win more than one chess match against me." He winked at his granddaughter and grinned. "Let's face it, I'm a chess prodigy!"
Riza rolled her eyes at him playfully, before he continued.
"Oh, and before I forget: He's got quite the charming look. Jet-black hair with a pair of obsidian eyes that are supposed to be mesmerizing – at least that's what the ladies say."
The Lieutenant sighed, supporting her elbow on the chair and resting her head on one hand while the other one tapped the arm rest impatiently.
"And who might this dashing young officer be? I hope he's alright with sharing me with Colonel Mustang since I don't plan on resigning anytime soon."
"I don't think that would be the problem," Grumman answered, his hand searching for something inside of one of his near endless drawers. "Though, I've got to admit, I should ask him again since he seemed a little hesitant to accept the proposition the last time I asked without your consent."
"At least he's decent enough to ask for my –," Riza muttered to herself, her eyes slowly growing wide as she took in the meaning of the words. "Wait a minute, are you telling me that you already tried to give him my hand in marriage? Grandfather!"
Grumman winced. He knew exactly what was about to roll upon him. His daughter always had been quite fierce and from Mustang's tales, he learned that his granddaughter had inherited the fierceness of her mother. Thankfully, a sharp knock on Grumman's office door resounded, sparing him from further harm and he quickly answered with a loud "Come in!" before Riza could stop him.
"Führer, sir."
She didn't need to turn around to know who was standing at the door. She would recognize the velvet voice everywhere with ease and she could picture her superior right now, disheveled hair, his hand raised in a salute, face relaxed.
"Mustang, my boy! We were just talking about you. Come, sit down, sit down next to the lovely lady here."
Riza's jaw dropped as her superior sat down on the other chair next to her, his glance finally laying down on her. Genuine surprise was evident in his eyes.
"Hawkeye?"
"Sir, I-"
"Mustang," Grumman interrupted the moment, examining the couple in front of him with a new-found softness in his glance, "what can I help you with?"
"I'm here to deliver some documents concerning the restoration, sir," Roy responded, handing Grumman the paperwork while keeping an eye on Riza all the time.
"Is anything the matter with Lieutenant Hawkeye?" he eventually asked, his eyes alternating between the Führer and his Lieutenant. "If there is any indication for her to extend her leave of absence, I can change the schedule." He slid to the edge of his seat, leaning forward. "There is no reason for her to endure the stress if she hasn't fully recovered yet."
Grumman lifted his hand and Roy fell silent, watching the old man intently.
"Lieutenant Hawkeye assured me that there was nothing stopping her from proceeding with our schedule. Her recovery is going as planned. Rest assured," a smile graced the worn face of the Führer, "I just asked her to visit her old grandfather for a nice conversation."
Roy exhaled an eased breath and leaned back into his chair. After considering Grumman's words for a second, he cocked his eyebrow. "Lieutenant Hawkeye... is your granddaughter?"
A big grin spread on Grumman's lips, his eyes twinkling.
"Yes, she is. I guess you'll reconsider my proposition now? You know, the one I made so many times during our chess matches."
Blushing furiously, Roy stood up, nearly tumbling over the chair, and raised his hand in a salute. His eyes were focusing on a point somewhere behind the Führer.
"Permission to leave, sir?!"
The old man chuckled as he noted the equally red tinted cheeks of his granddaughter.
"Permission granted."
Roy hurriedly left the Führer's office, his eyes locking with Riza's for the shortest moment, before he pulled the door close behind him.
Riza on the other hand followed all of his movements, her eyes fixed in the closed doors right where his hand had lay just moments ago until she heard her grandfather clear his throat again.
"I don't think my candidate minds sharing you with Mustang," he assured her with a hint of a chuckle.
Riza turned back to him; Grumman's eyes were still soft, but his face now held a serious expression.
"I'm totally serious about this, Riza. I'm also serious about him." He stood up, folded his arms behind his back and turned away from Riza, to the big, floor-to-ceiling windows behind his office chair. "I have never supported my daughter in her love for your father. I told her to choose between her family and him. She chose him."
His hand wandered up to his face and Riza felt the strange desire to stand up and comfort her grandfather, but at the same time, something held her back, keeping her in her seat, forcing her to listen to the silent sob of the man.
"The last thing I can do for her and for you is to ensure you a happy future."
He turned around again, tears dried, grasping the paper he had looked for in his drawer.
"I spent days and nights studying the laws of Amestris. I searched for mistakes and loop holes in the constitution. The document in my hand could provide you with a future. A future both of you deserve."
Grumman stared intently at his granddaughter who unconsciously had stopped breathing, hanging on each and every one of his incredible words.
"This could be your opportunity for a happy life. It may very well cost me the position of Führer, but I have a worthy successor in mind." He added with a smile: "I could live with him."
Riza opened her mouth. No words came out of it. Her mind was swimming, long forgotten pictures of a family consisting of her, the raven haired boy of her past and two kids that looked like carbon copies of their parents crashed down on her all at once.
"I don't expect you to answer me right away," Grumman came around, putting the document safely away, and locked the drawer containing it with a small, golden key. "But I want you to think about it. Listen to your heart, dear. This could make your dreams come true without sacrificing the path that you're chosen."
"There is nothing to be gained without sacrificing something in return, grandfather," she muttered, giving her feelings away as the old man watched her knowingly.
"Ah, yes, the rule of equivalent exchange," he nodded, a grin gracing his features. "Like I said – it may cost me my current position. I think that is a worthy payment for your future."
He grew somber again, regarding her with a serious expression.
"I'm offering you this opportunity. It's your choice whether you want to take it or not."
He hesitated, observing his granddaughter who had lowered her eyes now, a look of inner conflict apparent in her face.
"There is no time limit for this proposition. Feel free to redeem it as soon as you've worked out your true desire. I'll happily make it happen as soon as both of you feel ready to make this step."