day 4 - compose

summary: one song follows them throughout their lives

rated: g | words: 2091 | tags: pre-canon, young royai, music, weddings

"What are you playing?"

Roy jolted so hard his knee smacked against the piano he was currently playing. His fingers slipped and pressed down on the wrong keys, making a jarring sound which made even Riza cringe.

"Oh." His cheeks burned red and he stuttered. He was flustered.

Eventually, the poor boy managed to calm and gather himself into some semblance of control and coherency.

"Just something I've written." He shrugged but the movement was jerky. There was no casualness about it at all.

"You write music?"

"No need to sound so surprised," he muttered, rather petulant, however he would never admit it. He placed his fingers back on the keys – ignored how they trembled slightly – and restarted playing.

"N – No, I wasn't –" This time, her cheeks turned pink. "I didn't mean it like that. You've never mentioned you write music. That's all."

Roy shrugged with more ease this time. "It never came up."

A wave of dismay washed over Riza. It was true, it hadn't. However, she considered Roy her best – Her friend. She should know things like this, shouldn't she? Shame crept up the back of her neck.

She'd never pushed for details about him and his hobbies – besides alchemy. Only taken what he'd offered. But if she were a good friend, surely she would've enquired about it, right? Having no frame of reference for a friendship as… close as they shared, Riza didn't know. But she took the shame stirring uncomfortably in her gut as a sign.

"Sorry I never asked."

The melody paused and Roy's head snapped around to look at her. His eyebrows tugged down and in, towards his nose. "What are you sorry for?"

The words strangled Riza's throat. She didn't know how to explain herself. Didn't know what to say to help the situation. But she desperately wanted to. Wanted it more than anything else.

Roy was too important for her not to rectify this –

"Riza, it's okay. It doesn't matter. Like I said, it hasn't come up before. That's why I never shared it. We've never been anywhere with a piano before."

Riza opened her mouth to reply – because he always seemed to know exactly what she wanted to hear – however was rendered mute when his nimble fingers danced over the keys. Her eyes snagged on the movement and it ensnared all of her attention. She was unable to look away.

The same melody she'd walked in on filled the quiet room.

It was early. In the pub in town there were only a few people sitting at the bar. It was early afternoon. More patrons would come later, when work was finished for the day, but when Roy admitted he wandered to the pub in town to play the piano every now and then, Riza's curiosity and her wonder had gotten the better of her. He'd made an offhand comment once that he knew music, back her father's house, and, curious, Riza let herself follow him for once. She'd left her sense of duty behind just this once and allowed herself to wonder instead or work.

The song continued. It was nothing Riza had ever heard before.

But it filled her completely. Moved her. Almost to tears. They pricked at her eyes but didn't fall.

Silence enveloped them. There was no response from anyone else. No applause from the other patrons – a travesty, because the song deserved it. It deserved adoration, a standing ovation, an award.

But there was nothing.

He shifted beside her in the quiet.

"You wrote this?"

"Yeah." He shrugged again, full of teenage indifference as he tried to play it cool. "I was just messing around one day and…" Again, he shrugged. This time it was a jerk of his shoulders.

"Roy…" Riza didn't know what to say, how to express how it had moved her. "It's beautiful."

He dropped the unbothered act and perked up almost immediately. His face lit up with trepidation, and hope. "Really?"

"I…" She stared down at the keys.

There were no words. She had none to give him which would appropriately describe how much she liked what he'd created with his mind, his heart, and his hands.

Her expression must have conveyed that when she glanced up at him, because Roy peered at her. His eyes looked between hers, trying to gauge her reaction as best he could. They flicked rapidly, trying to decipher something, then his gaze froze.

And a smile spread wonderfully across his face.

"You like it?" He was delighted.

Riza discovered herself nodding. "I do. A lot."

If possible, he lit up even more.

He tilted his head gracefully and accepted her praise, her compliments.

"I love it, Roy."

He was practically beaming. "I'm glad you like it, Riza. Would you like to hear it again?"

Roy laughed. He'd barely finished asking his question before Riza's head nodded enthusiastically – and she was sure she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Because yes, she'd absolutely adore to hear him play his composition again.

Riza's body ached. She was exhausted.

But there was more work to be done.

There was always more work to be done.

And she didn't really deserve to be resting. Not when there were things to correct and apologies to make.

But she was so tired.

She managed to drag herself out of the chair. Her food had been barely touched, too exhausted to even take the effort to eat.

There weren't many people in the canteen. A few soldiers who, like her, were on the graveyard shift. The others who had either just finished duty, or had a day off, had mostly congregated at the makeshift bar though, rather than eating. They murmured subdued over their ales, keeping to themselves.

One soldier, shrouded in shadow, walked over to the rickety old piano in the corner. It was shipped from either East City or Central, probably as a way for one player to keep the spirits up of the soldiers.

Not many had touched it.

Riza thanked the canteen staff and handed back her plate apologetically, claiming a bout of nausea was preventing her from eating, and then headed for the door.

And she would have continued unhindered to her barracks, alone, except something stopped her.

Riza froze in the doorway.

A familiar tune filled the quiet bar. No one else reacted to it. The melody was quiet on the old instrument, so it was possible the sound just hadn't registered with them yet, but it caught Riza. It ensnared her, as it had done all those years ago when she heard for the first time – and the only time.

When a young man had played a tune on a piano in a pub in a quiet town. When she'd taken the first step forward to learn more about her friend – her only friend. The same young man who'd twisted her young insides into knots, who'd made her hands sweat and her face flush hot, without her knowing why. The most frustrating thing, Riza complained silently to herself, but also couldn't help but flush with pleasure whenever he smiled at her.

He had been the worst, she'd declared as a child.

Her opinion had changed over the years. Fluctuated.

And now… In this bar…

He played the tune again.

The corner was dim but she didn't need light to recognise that head of dark hair. The way he moved as he played – for she had memorised everything.

He'd played for her – played this song – and she'd committed the whole experience to memory, never wishing to forget a moment.

But things were different now. She couldn't blush and laugh with him as they once had. Couldn't play and run around after each other with the ease of children.

Riza remained still at the door.

Listening.

Remembering.

(Mourning).

And at the height of the unnamed tune – one which was just theirs – Riza knew it would flow beautifully onto the next part… But it didn't. There was a pause which hung in the air between them. Without a doubt, Riza knew, if she turned and looked over her shoulder, she'd see dark eyes looking directly her way. Watching her. Waiting for her to acknowledge him, the song.

Riza relaxed her shoulder and closed her eyes as the tune continued. Let it wash over her.

Envelop her and take her back to simpler, more innocent times.

And when her eyes opened her spine was steeled, head held high. She nodded without looking back.

A breath shuddered out of her before she walked away with that tune following her into the dark evening.

Riza shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The door ahead of her was closed and she was currently waiting for the signal.

Her heart was racing. It never normally did. Not in these situations. She prided herself on her control and her steady hand, even though in the past they'd been used for ill.

It had been years since then, but they were still atoning.

And the only way forward was this step.

Havoc slipped through the door to her right. The movement caused her head to jerk to the side, to meet his easy smile.

"Hi." Riza swallowed, finding her throat dry.

"Riza…" His eyes trailed down her body then back up. His face was filled with so much warmth, affection, and pride, it made her heart flutter.

Riza glanced down, taking in her white dress.

"You look beautiful."

Her eyes welled. She nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line to stave it off.

"Are you ready?"

Riza nodded, feeling her nerves surge once more. Still, she hooked her hand around the arm Havoc offered her. She clung on tight as she steeled her spine for the task ahead.

"I'm proud of you." His quiet murmur swirled around them both and Riza's eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "And so happy for you both."

The doors opened and Riza inhaled sharply.

People in the room ahead stood and turned, waiting to see her, however her eyes immediately honed in on the one man she was always drawn to. He stood at the end of the aisle, beside other figures dressed in black suits and a man in robes. Riza knew who they were, however, for the life of her, in that moment as her eyes met Roy's she could not tell anyone who they were.

His – and her – closest friends, but they all, regrettably, fell away.

There was no one else but him.

Havoc took a small step forward, prompting Riza along, to walk down the red carpet before them to the man she'd finally be able to call her husband by the end of the day.

She'd been so dumbstruck by the sight of him she'd forgotten she'd have to walk down the aisle.

Luckily, one of her best friends was there to keep her right.

Her other was already waiting for her, tears in her eyes, on Riza's side of the alter.

Rebecca Catalina's eyes were bright and shining, filled with affection, as Riza started walking arm and arm down the aisle with Jean Havoc towards her future husband.

After that first step, a familiar tune started to play.

Riza sucked in a sharp breath. Almost stumbled on those first steps.

She knew that tune. Was perhaps one of the only people who did. Who knew and understood the significance of it. Of what it meant to them.

And when she reached the alter, reached him, when Riza met Roy's eyes, everything within her sagged. When he smiled at her with eyes full of tears Riza finally felt herself settled. At peace.

"I wrote it for you." His murmur was quiet, meant only for her ears. A quiet moment before they became husband and wife.

"Roy –" She didn't think she could continue speaking, and the sense of déjà vu washed over her.

"It was always yours, Riza." He gave her hands a quick squeeze and flashed her a grin as his eyes continued to fill with water. "There was never any doubt."

This song…

The song she'd discovered him playing on the piano all those years ago…

It had been for her.

He'd composed a song for her.

For them.

Riza could barely see through her tears for the remainder of the ceremony and when they were pronounced husband and wife, she threw her arms around him tight and kissed him with everything she had.