Roy Mustang closed the book with a flourish and handed it to his daughter. The little girl smiled, tracing the faces of the family on the cover with a chubby finger. "Daddy, Mommy's a queen, right?" He nodded, picking up the pair of cufflinks he'd left on the pink bedside table. "So was she a princess like me when she was younger?"
"Yes, she was. The prettiest princess ever to come along before you." Roy responded indulgently, paying half attention to the conversation as he struggled to put his cufflinks on.
His daughter watched as he fought with the accessories, giggling a little at his slightly exaggerated struggles, but was not to be deterred from her train of thought. "So was Mommy's daddy a king too?"
The struggling over the cufflinks came to an abrupt halt. Leave it to Riza's daughter to catch him off-guard without even trying; Roy chuckled to himself, even as he scrambled for an answer. He'd had great respect for Riza's father, even if they'd fought like cats and dogs as the younger man had grown up. But something had broken in the old man later in his life, and ever since Roy had learned the extent of the damage his teacher had wrought, his memories of the alchemist were tainted by cold anger and disdain, with just a touch of pity. He knew he'd never forgive his mentor such egregious failings in his duty to protect the ones (the one) he loved, and though Roy's wife largely succeeded in burying that particular pain, Roy was not about to tell his daughter that her grandfather had been a king.
"No, princess. He wasn't. Your mommy wasn't that kind of princess. She was a princess because she was kind to everyone she met, and she was smart and very, very brave. She was the kind of princess that's a princess because everyone around her looked up to her, but she never looked down on anyone."
The present princess considered this, her big, slanting eyes solemn. "I'm going to be both kinds of princess." She announced seriously.
"I think you're doing a great job already, sweetheart." Riza answered as she stepped into the room, beating Roy to the punch. He turned to see his wife, eyes bright, cheeks pinker than usual, walking toward her family. If her voice betrayed the fact that she was a little choked up, their daughter didn't notice as she launched herself out of bed and across the room to her mother's arms.
The little girl grinned into her mother's neck as she was carried back to bed. "You think so?"
Roy laughed. "You're a natural." Riza nodded in agreement before catching sight of Roy's sleeves.
"The king forgot how to do his cufflinks again." The princess volunteered helpfully.
Her father shot her a wounded look. "I didn't forget, it's just hard!" He whined, much to his family's amusement.
"Thanks, baby. I'll take care of it." Riza rolled her eyes jokingly at her daughter before planting a kiss on her cheek. "We've got to go. We'll see you in the morning. Love you."
"Love you, too."
"'Night, princess. We'll see you in the morning." Roy said firmly, fully aware that he was the pushover who wouldn't rat on a princess out of bed in the middle of the night to say goodnight to her parents when they got home. His daughter apparently was too, because she laughed before kissing his cheek and saying goodnight.
When the lights were turned out and they were halfway down the hall, Riza laughed quietly. "You could have just said yes, you know."
Roy shrugged, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You know me: the man who can make anything more complicated than it has to be." She laughed again at the epithet that flew around the office sometimes.
"I liked your way better." She confided.
Short and sweet. A very quick write, but I had to get the thoughts on paper and now I'm posting before I lose my nerve.
To be clear: yes, I know I didn't name the daughter. I did that deliberately. I likewise couldn't decide whether Roy was Fuhrer or President or neither, so I left it ambiguous.
Thanks for reading a resurrected author's first (rusty) stab at getting back on the horse and posting stuff! Reviews are welcome, as always!