Disclaimer: FMA belongs to Arakawa Hiromu
Notes: Part 3 of my Future storyline arc - and now I'm getting back to the sap.
Eighty-three: Crowd
Roy Mustang's official inauguration into the office of Fuhrer was a loud occasion of two parts: one public, and one private (or pretending to be as much). At the private party, following the public ceremony, a grand ball was held in the Fuhrer's mansion, for all ranking officers and their significant others. The mansion hadn't been completely restored to its former glory since the gentle eviction of Fuhrer Bradley's family and their belongings, but the rooms open for the event had been filled and decorated as thoroughly as necessary.
It was after all of the pomp and circumstance of speeches were through that dinner was served and the night was allowed to proceed at a more leisurely pace. Roy was scarcely allowed a moment alone, as all sorts of Generals wanted to congratulate him and get a measure of the man they had put in control. He eventually managed to escape after a jaunt to the washroom, and set out to find Hawkeye, wherever she had been watching him from – she'd never leave his back unprotected.
In time, he found her seated at a table with Breda and Feury, who were having an animated discussion about dogs – Feury for, and Breda against. Although she never seemed to be looking directly at him, or near him, really, she still managed to say, "Congratulations, Fuhrer Mustang," without turning to see who had just approached the table.
He took the seat next to her, and cast his eyes out to the various party-goers he didn't recall ever having met before. "Big group, isn't it?"
"You have more supporters now than you did while making it here," she agreed.
He nodded and hunched over a little, arms crossed on the table. "And you've put up with me through all of it. Would you be willing to put up with it a little longer?"
Frowning, she looked across at him. Roy couldn't help but smile at the way her lips twitched into a confused pout. Uncrossing his arms, he tapped the ring-box held in his right hand on the table nervously before setting it down in front of her.