AN: Oh em gee, Happy Royai Week 2022, everyone! So glad this fandom is surviving the test of time. Thank you again to the mods (royaiweek on Tumblr and Twitter) for this event.
Like my entries last year, I will be connecting (or attempting to connect) the prompts into one whole story.
Hope you enjoy!
Triumph
"We won. We won," she repeated as she flipped on her bedside lamp.
The bed shook with her companion's restlessness, his sleep-heavy body wrestling with the covers wrapped around them. Riza yanked the covers off, not caring whether she tore through fabric or not, in a desperate attempt to get a hold of him.
"Roy." Sweat covered his neck and his face, his lips pursed tight together in his sleep. She knew if she removed his shirt now, his back would be drenched as well. "Wake up, we won. You're okay. You're okay."
She stroked his cheek with one hand while the other gripped his sweaty hair. She tugged at the black locks, careful not to pull out any strands, but with just enough force to be felt at the roots.
She waited, alternating between tugging at his hair and telling him he was okay and that they won. Two years ago.
Roy opened his eyes with his mouth hanging open, like he was about to scream. "Hawkeye."
She swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled him to sit up. As she suspected, his side of the bed was damp and his shirt clung to his back. She pulled at the hem, wordlessly asking him to take it off.
She knew better than to speak first once he was awake.
They've been through this before. Sometimes it was her, tonight it was him.
She jumped out of bed and handed him a fresh shirt. The sheets would have to be replaced by morning, she reminded herself.
He looped his arms through the holes and his head popped back out of the shirt. Through the lone light provided by her bedside lamp, half his face looked weary and the other half was clouded by darkness. He rubbed his face in his hands.
She turned to the door, hoping to get him a glass of water… and maybe some air for the both of them.
He caught her wrist before she made a step. "Please." He tugged at her wrist and she allowed herself to fall back on the bed beside him. "Riza -"
Better. She took a breath. Him waking up from a nightmare was one thing, but him waking up and calling her "Hawkeye" in their bed, as if he was still back in the middle of fighting from two years ago…
She hoisted herself up over his hips and straddled him. I need you to say the words. She reached behind him and turned on his bedside lamp too then settled her hands on his neck.
He smiled, face no longer hidden in the shadows. He tugged at the tips of her hair that were curling around her chin. "It's growing out again."
She ran her palms over his forehead, down his cheeks, taking in each and every line and deep crease, searching what his eyes would give away that his words never would.
"We won," he whispered.
She kissed him in response.
/-/ /-/ /-/ /-/
"I don't suppose we could funnel our office funds into the Ishvalan Restoration to speed things up?"
If they weren't in the middle of a meeting, she would have pinched him. Regardless of their audience, has her commanding officer not yet learned to not run with his mouth? "We barely have office funds as it is, sir," murmured Riza.
"Break the audit system to confuse the auditors? Great idea, Mustang," snarled General Armstrong.
They were discussing the Ishvalan Restoration project and Mustang's team reported their difficulty in acquiring more funds. Fuhrer President Grumman headed the meeting, but it was General Armstrong who orchestrated the discussion given that she was the OIC of the project.
Mustang gave the general a bland smile. It has been over two years since the Promised Day and they thought the Ishvalan Restoration would have reached its 50% mark by now. As it stood, they were lagging behind in terms of resources, which in turn, made their outputs slow down as well.
Everyone's patience was wearing thin.
The discussion on funds ended with Grumman intervening, telling them that they could trace more of the military's superfluous funds and streamline them into the project. Armstrong promised to get Falman on board while Mustang said he would contact Sheska.
"There is also the matter of some resistance," said the blonde general when everyone at the table looked ready to leave.
Grumman regarded the papers Armstrong settled in front of him. He passed some to Mustang.
Riza stole a glance at the scattered papers and saw pictures of civilians holding placards and screaming at military personnel to stop the restoration process.
"I want to widen the perimeter so the construction could go on in peace without civilians and staff in one another's faces," Armstrong cleared her throat, "But neither Miles nor Scar could spearhead that."
Grumman nodded. "I see."
Major Miles and Scar, while their main point persons on the ground, were both Ishvalans. If the civilians were protesting their return, having Ishvalans push them away to widen the site's perimeter would only make things worse.
"I was thinking of asking my brother to pull back from Xing… with your permission, sir."
"No," said Grumman, shaking his head. "It is important we retain our established ties with the Xingese. Mustang can go." He grinned from his seat. "Take your whole team with you."
Roy's mouth hung open.
Armstrong glared at him. "But remember, no using large-scale alchemy to fast-track the construction."
/-/ /-/ /-/ /-/
"I am not a bloody idiot," grumbled Roy on the train ride on the way to Ishval. "Besides, we're there so often… we should be the ones heading the restoration efforts."
"It's best not to overcrowd the area with ranked officers, sir." Their unit was still at the head of the efforts, but more on a supervisory capacity, and he knew this.
"Yeah, but —"
She tuned him out by propping open the book she brought for the journey. Roy liked to grumble about things but they both knew he'll still get everything done anyway.
"Hey," he said after awhile.
Her brows rose but her eyes didn't stray from what she was reading.
"What does your weekend look like?"
"Sand, heat and…" she ruffled the top of Hayate's head, "probably a bath for him." They were meant to stay in Ishval for around a month. It was more than enough time to set up new boundaries, reshuffle and reorient the guards, and ensure the civilian protesters stopped.
"Where are your barracks?"
"Where are yours?" She shot back, closing the book in her hands since the jig was up.
His grin split his face before he smothered it.
With Fuhrer Grumman's rise to power following the events of the Promised Day came the efforts at Ishvalan Restoration, Roy's personal favorite, and the amendment of the Anti-Fraternization Rules, Roy's other personal favorite. While it was still 'frowned upon' for officers to develop personal relations with one another, especially those in the same unit, there would be no problem as long as said personal relations were declared out in the open (through a mountain of paperwork).
The paperwork failsafe was meant as a consideration for their higher-ups for any disciplinary sanctions or deliberations for promotion before either is given.
It was the fastest paperwork Roy ever accomplished in his military life.
Riza nudged the tip of her boot to his. "You're drooling… sir."
He swallowed down a choke, glaring at the mischievous glint in her eyes. "That's what happens when your girlfriend says she'll stay with you. Out in the open. Not minding the hundreds of fellow soldiers no doubt ready to spread rumors about her choice in barracks."
She shrugged and petted Hayate's coat, wordlessly conveying that their sleeping arrangements were no one's concern.
"Filing our paperwork was one thing, but staying together in my barracks is another."
That small bit of insecurity she carried about their relationship slipped out. "You don't want me to stay with you?" She knew she wasn't difficult to look at and Roy certainly didn't care, but the military uniform didn't highlight her womanly attributes unlike her casual clothing.
With the deployment, there was no way she would be wearing a skirt anytime soon.
He jolted from his seat like his ass was electrocuted. He hissed and slid in the seat next to her, purposefully pulling Hayate out of the way.
"This isn't —"
He grabbed her hand and placed a loud and wet smack of his lips on it.
"Sir." She tried for some semblance of professionalism.
It only seemed to encourage him more. He scooted in his seat, using his grip on her hand as a lever, until their hips touched and she was pinned between him and the window. "Riza," he said, inching his lips close to her ear. His other hand curved near her breast.
"We're on duty." She clamped her lips shut so he wouldn't notice her gritting her teeth when he applied enough pressure that she felt his hand through her thick uniform.
"And let go of nights where I get to throw this," he pinched the corner of her military coat, "away?" It was one of his favorite things to do: helping shed Riza's uniform at the end of the day.
"Roy — !"
Any other protest she had about semi-public displays of affection while on duty was thrown out the window when his lips landed on that particular spot that always made her whimper.
/-/ /-/ /-/ /-/
"Good to see you again, sir," greeted Miles after Roy and the rest of the team had settled in their temporary office.
The rest of the day was spent plotting out points on the site map, rearranging ground units, and timing patrols. Riza found herself having to stifle a laugh or two at every turn that Miles showed his intelligence and efficiency more than her commanding officer would like to admit.
When the day was over and Havoc herded the men out to look for liquor, Roy slammed his forehead against the desk with a thud.
"You'd think with all the time we've spent in meetings, there would be some type of crop growing in large quantities here already to make the Ishvalans live sustainable lives."
Riza said nothing, opting to let him grumble away his frustrations for the nth time that day.
"But noooooo, protests and squabbles and annoying bureaucratic shit have to be thrown into the mix."
"People do like to protest anyone and anything that's different from what they're used to, even if it won't directly hurt them."
He grunted and pulled his head up, rubbing sweat off the spot where his skin hit the wood. He gave her a onceover, taking in the bag she had slung over her shoulder and Hayate's unclipped leash in her fingers. "You're leaving?"
"Yes… if you would escort me to your room."
He shot to his feet like he just remembered. Taking Hayate's leash from her, he clipped it on the dog and led them out of the room.
When they've reached the place, an isolated room with a kitchenette and its own private bathroom — courtesy of Roy's position as Colonel — at the ground floor of the apartment building housing the stationed soldiers, Roy shut the door and double checked if he locked it.
"The chance of anyone robbing us is slim, you know." She deposited her bag on the floor and started to shed her jacket.
He reached her side and pulled down the fabric for her, draping the thing on a nearby chair.
Hayate skittered across the floor, sniffing as he went, his leash still attached to his collar.
Riza gave Roy a pointed look, throwing her boots on the floor so she was left in her socks. She was well aware of his fondness for 'helping' her remove her uniform at night, but couldn't he at least hang her dog's leash first?
She went after the furball, already running circles around the bed and risking the leash getting tangled around one of the wooden legs. "Hayate."
At the sound of her call, the dog skidded to a halt and looked at her with his tongue lolling out.
She knelt in front of him, digging through his neck and noting with a wince he truly needed a bath at the end of the week to wash off all the sand, and unclipped the leash.
A tiny ding broke her focus from her dog's fur as a tiny, round metallic object bounced on the floor.
She picked up a solitaire diamond ring, the jewel glinting against pale fluorescent lights overhead. From the corner of her eye, she saw Roy approach and turned to him to ask what —
The question died in her throat at the sight of him getting down on one knee and at the sound of him asking, "Riza Hawkeye, will you marry me?"
AN: To those following my other multi-chap HUHU hello, i'm trying to get back into it. For now, Royai Week is like a shiny new toy that i can't drop.
'Til next time!