"So who ranks higher now?" Roy declares, falling quite unceremoniously onto the ground in front of Maes' grave. The sun hangs lazy in the morning sky, rays mixing with the breeze, tangling in his hair. He unrolls the newspaper and lays it on top of the grass, making sure the headline is facing up. He wants Maes to be able to read it for himself, wherever he is. Fuhrer Mustang Takes Office.
"After all these years...," he gazes up at the sky, reaching a hand to cover his face from the sting of the sunlight. It was still surreal to him, to be Fuhrer. There was an uneasiness in his stomach that he wasn't sure would ever go away. Too many years of waiting, of anticipating death around each corner. He wasn't sure he could get used to the calm, but he almost preferred that. Maybe the uneasiness was just a reminder of what it took for him to get here. A reminder of the things he'd lost.
"I've invited Gracia and Elysia over for dinner tonight. I hope you don't mind. Hawkeye has promised to cook some terribly complicated sounding thing, of which I suspect Gracia will have a great deal of input in preparing. The last time Hawkeye cooked for me it didn't go very well," he laughs. The image of his Lieutenant standing in his kitchen, spoon held exasperatedly out to her side, would be forever burned into his memory. How someone as proficient in everything as Riza Hawkeye could fail so miserably at cooking was an endearing mystery.
"Things are good now," he admits, "though they would certainly be better if you were here." It had been five years since Maes' death. Five years, countless battles, and one successfully reckless bid for Fuhrer between them, filling the space. "No one would be able to document this fiasco in photographs quite like you would," he smiles.
"Excuse me, Fuhrer."
He turns as the footsteps approach. "Time to go, Hawkeye?"
"Yes, sir," she reaches out her hand, "time to go."
Roy grasps her outstretched hand, standing as she graces him with an all too beautiful, albeit concerned, gaze. He shakes his head, he's fine, and sets his eyes once again on the gravestone.
"It's my wedding today, Maes, and as the best man you are required to attend. I expect to see you there." He feels Hawkeye squeeze his hand reassuringly, her eyes carefully roaming over his face for signs of distress. He chuckles and reaches out his free hand to gently caress her cheek. "Don't look so serious, Hawkeye. We could not have asked for a more beautiful day."
As he leads her out of the cemetery he imagines Maes clapping excitedly, grin spread from ear to ear, you've finally got yourself a wife! The sunlight dances upon them, warming at his back. He smiles.
What a strange place to be, here after the rain.
A/N: This was originally written for fma_fic_contest over at livejournal. The prompt was Rain with a 251 - 500 word count limit. When I wrote it I had the royai 100 theme in mind, so I feel it's fitting to include it in this collection. Something a little lighter in between all the angst that I'm sure is coming (which I'm terribly sorry for).
