The magic of a dance

Roy saw Olivier and her blond-haired escort as he entered the foyer. The Ice Queen wore a black dress which covered most of her body and she had left her sword at home which was quite a shock to him. She had wrapped one arm around her friend's waist and seemed to laugh about his joke. He wore an expensive black tuxedo with a light blue shirt made of silk and a tie made of sapphire silk. His golden hair was combed back and the little bulge at his sides showed Roy that this man was carried a gun. He stayed in the shadows of the pillars and tried to listen.

"…It has been a while that you dragged me into a ballet," Olivier laughed. "Honestly, Ben, with you, I make more crazy things than Alex and Catherine together! You have seriously a very bad influence on me!"

"Well, since Elizabeth's mother can't be here tonight, someone has to fill in for her … and who if not I, Miss Armstrong? We are a gorgeous couple after all…" He smirked. "And Mother said that I should make sure that you enjoy your time in Central. That's why I invited you."

"If here are any guys from the military, my reputation will be destroyed!" Olivier complained.

"Don't worry, princess," he said. "I guess that no one would believe that you would ever attend such an event, Olivier. And I would always claim that you weren't here with me. My own reputation as the hottest guy that side of Central would be forever damaged if I was seen with you – no offence intended, as usual." He led her down a hallway. "And Eliza needs a fan…"

"Last time I checked, she had a bunch of fans," the female major general smirked. "And most of them were male … don't look at me that way – you're the one running around and showing everyone your perfect little girl."

"Buccaneer needed to see something nice, so I showed him the newest pictures of my favourite girls. What can I say? I am cursed with a sweet little grand-niece and a beautiful niece! I need to share my happiness with everyone else!" the blond man exclaimed. "And before you can ask, Liv, I will give you a collection of my favourite pictures when you turn twenty-eight…"

"If you want to die, write an article for the Central Times about my birthday, Prince."

"Ouch, Liv! We are friend, in case that you forgot!" Bendix Llewellyn laughed. "You need to be nice and friendly because I was always the one you called when you were angry…" He wrapped one of his arms around her waist. "And we went through academy side by side…"

Roy had heard of the golden-haired wonder boy of Western Headquarters. He and his friend (if she would actually have friends, that it was) Olivier had been the best cadets of their year and started their carriers both at the rank of a First Lieutenant before they had earned more promotions than anyone else in that short amount of time. Some said that it was because of their powerful parents but there was no way in hell that the former General Armstrong and his old friends, Leroy Grumman and Charlotte Llewellyn, could have pushed their children that far. There was a reason why Roy wasn't one of Bendix' fans. The blond man was way too popular with the women. And he didn't know that there was a reason why no soldier ever flirted with First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Roy had been furious when he had been the both blond soldiers at lunch and he had been close to frying Bendix when he had dared to touch Riza's hair.

Roy found a good place close to the stage and took out the camera he had borrowed from Maes.

"You are embarrassing me again, Prince Charming," Olivier hissed while she took place next to her oldest and most trusted friend. "Really, Ben, why did you drag me here? Why didn't you ask Lieutenant Colonel Mustang? She is a pretty girl and a far better officer than her cousin – even if she has sometimes a terrible work ethic."

"Not everyone can be a dedicated and hard-working officer without any known ambition which would it make unlikely for our dear and lovely higher-ups to promote me to ranks I will never deserve … the only advantage is that I can fill in for mama in most of the meetings … that is why I stayed in Central while she travelled to the East to visit Dad," he grinned. "Ah, c'mon, girl, and enjoy the evening. I will even listen to your stories about Briggs if you pay attention."

She smiled at him. "Prince Charming, you are really an amazing and funny person," she said, "and of all people who live in Central City, you are the only one I really want to spend my time with."

"Ah, don't say something that nice to me, Armstrong," he chuckled. "I will wonder what you need. Maybe a tank or something? I have a friend who has everything you would need to build one. I would be happy to pass you the contact – especially if it would mean to get out of this whole Promised-Day-insanity. You know that I hate the idea of using violence against innocents."

"I know, Benny, but there will be no other way for us to win the game," she sighed and looked at him in a really worried way. "I will try to keep the bloodshed on a minimum but we will need all our power if we want to win against these insane and murdering old men! I would love to stab Bradley right now … your mother was a little bit too controlled to get over with it."

"She said that she was close to shooting him right there but she didn't do it because she thought that it isn't her place anymore. She works against him and his buddies ever since her father was killed … I believe that she wishes an end … the sooner the better."

Olivier nodded and laid her hand on his arm. "I understand, Prince Charming," she grinned. "The Golden Girl lost her patience and wishes that we remove the Pirate King soon from his power."

"You are truly the only person out there who can speak about treason in the same way Riza used to read bedtime stories for Laila," Bendix chuckled. "Ah … the good old times when Mama used to read for both of us … I sometimes really miss her motherly side…"

"You are more than twenty years old, Llewellyn!" she hissed at him. "You don't need your bedtime stories any longer – and if you would still need them, I would be greatly terrified…"

"As soon as everything is over, Liv, will you read a bedtime story to me?" he smirked.

"Prince Charming, shut up."

In the backstage area, Laila sat on a chair and checked the bindings of her shoes before she looked in the mirror once again. She liked her reflection. Her golden hair was up in a perfect bun and she wore a white dress. Even if she was the youngest dancer of the class, she was the most talented. For her, it was a way to scream out all her worries, all her pain – everything she wanted to say. She suffered silently. It was painful for the girl to watch how her beloved mommy had started to fade away. For her, it was wrong. Her mommy was supposed to be strong but even the great Riza Hawkeye became weaker then she didn't get enough sleep. Laila knew and she wanted to tell the villain – a pretty word for a bad man – that he should leave her mommy alone because Laila needed her mommy at her side … and she wanted to throw a fit at everything. She also hated the lies she had to tell day after day.

When she danced, she forgot everything. Her breath was slower and she was at ease. She wasn't judged for her name – her great-grandfather's name. She was judged for the lightness of her steps and for the elegance she possessed when she let go of everything. Her dance never lacked the expression. Her dance was powerful and showed the world that the old house of the Hawkeye's was not beaten yet. They would shine once again in the future.

"Eliza – three minutes," her teacher said with a smile. "Show them what ballet is about."

Laila nodded and closed her eyes before she stretched her small and petite body before she looked at the reflection for the last time before she made her way to the stage. She would dance her solo first because her teacher had been so satisfied with her work. Laila was a perfectionist. Whatever she did, she would work on it until she was happy with it. Maybe it was her grandfather's inheritance because Master Berthold Hawkeye had been a perfectionist as well.

She inhaled deeply before the light went on. In her head, the whole performance was played backwards and when the music started, she threw all her burdens away and spread her wings to fly. For her, dancing was pure freedom … or maybe even magic. To let go of everything what bound her to earth was difficult but finally, Laila Elizabeth Grumman Hawkeye disappeared in the music and a new girl was born. The new girl was free, no sorrows slowed her down, and no fear shadowed her young face. The new girl was Liz how the other girls called her. Liz was an amazing dancer who never doubted herself. Liz was strong. Liz was untouchable because her steps were full of energy. Liz was the person Laila wanted to be, deep down in her soul, because Liz had nothing to do with all the secrets which surrounded Laila. Liz was free and happy.

The magic of dance and music lured Laila into the abyss of happiness. Her golden hair was her crown and the other dancers who filled the stage step by step were her servants.

Roy was impressed. The not-so-shy-as-she-seemed girl who always was flustered when someone dared to compliment her was gone and the self-confident and happy side had stayed. He had been sure that Elizabeth would be amazing because she had mentioned how hard she had practiced for this day since weeks but she surprised him still. She was at ease. He had been a little bit worried because he had been sure that she was burdened due to her family and the nearly famous arguments between Charlotte Llewellyn and King Bradley but it seemed like she had found a way to forget all the pressure and everything.

For a second, he looked in Olivier's direction and was surprised when he saw her smile and the nearly loving and caring expression on her pale face. This woman looked like it was her own daughter who was dancing like she had never done anything else – like walking or running. The young man next to her looked smug since it was his grand-niece who was flying across the stage.

The music was soft and even if Roy usually despised the ballet because the ballerinas were usually a gang of jealous and brainless girls without any proper education, he had to admit that he actually enjoyed the show. 'Hmh … probably I should allow Maes to find a wife for me…' he thought. 'Maybe we would have a daughter … or maybe I should hurry up, defeat Bradley and ask Riza to marry me again … we could have a daughter and we could be like the insane parents who adore their daughters like they had just invented the wheel or something equally useful…'

At the same time, Roy decided that he hated over-ambitious mothers. There was a brunette woman in the first row who kept talking bad about Elizabeth. He was tempted to fry her but he remembered that any misbehaviour of his would most likely kill Riza – and he couldn't allow that. So he stayed silent while he got angrier with every passing second. Elizabeth did a great job up there on the stage and she deserved to dance the most important role. Roy didn't know much about ballet because Jade had never allowed him to watch her while she practiced but he could recognise a gifted dancer when he saw one … and it wasn't that surprising after all. Charlotte Llewellyn had been famous many years ago and Elizabeth had obviously inherited her great-grandmother's talent. Elizabeth had the right feeling for the music and she could tell a story with her movements while all the other girls danced without the passion and the love for the dance.

"…alright, you were right, Ben," Olivier muttered somewhere behind him. "Lizzie is probably the best dancer in whole Amestris since Aunt Charlotte injured her knee. I am quite happy that you blackmailed me into tagging along. It would have been a shame to miss this show…"

"Her mother will be so disappointed," Brigadier General Llewellyn sighed. "She wanted to attend this time since she missed already Lizzie's piano recital but her bastard of a boss didn't allow her to attend her own daughter's show! And at the same time, he tries to be present whenever Selim harasses the public with his terrible violin play. Honestly, Liz is much younger and I bet that she would play the violin better than Selim if she would practice for three weeks or something…"

"Of course she would!" Olivier agreed. "This girl is gifted for crying out loud! When your niece has her next birthday, I will make Alex transmute a little statue of Liz. I am sure that she would enjoy something like that. I mean … every woman would worship her daughter…"

"Well … I wait to become godfather of your child, Snowflake," Bendix chuckled. "I mean, didn't we had a deal? That I would be godfather of your first child and you godmother of mine?"

"Yes … and it made quite clear that I would never marry you."