Author's Drabble:Sorry it's taking me so long to update… cowers behind a defensive wall Please, don't hurt me! I come bearing the chapter in which Riza's secret is revealed… Duhn duhn duhn! ( Cliché dramatic music) So please, read on! And I live on your reviews, so please leave one! Much love to those who do! And thanks to those who have. showers previous reviewers with candy
Riza almost wished Mustang had stayed. Maybe then she could have given into her feminine urges to lean on someone, anyone, as her father spoke. But he hadn't, and she was alone, and she could handle it. That was why she was the Lady Hawkeye, rather than Miss Riza. It was why she was running Hawk's Eye manor, rather than living in it. It was why Roy had left the room, and why she couldn't resent him for doing so. Her father placed a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her monologue state of mind to look up at him.
"Riza, dear, have you been listening to what I've been saying?" the older man asked, looking down at the young woman he had raised since she was just a babe, though she wasn't his daughter. Not by rights, not by blood. She stammered.
"I… That is to say- Well, it's all-"
"Hush, my child," he responded with a kind smile, removing his hand. "I know it's a lot to take in at once, and I apologize for having to do this to you…" his voice trailed off, and he sat down again. He was old, there was no denying it. That was why Riza had given up her passion for firearms and the military. And now he was about to lose her, through no fault of his own, of course, but it wasn't much comfort.
"Father, I don't… Well, rather, I have a hard time grasping the situation. It's not that I don't understand," she said after a moment, her hands folded demurely in her lap as she struggled internally not to give into that oh-so feminine urge to cry. Her entire world had been tipped upside down, and one wrong move was going to send her tumbling into the skies of depression and tears. But she was determined not to do that. She was Riza Elizabeth Hawkeye, and she could not forget that. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't falter, and she wouldn't fall. She wouldn't.
"You always were a sharp child…" he murmured to himself. "Riza, you are not a Hawkeye. You are the sole heir to the throne of Ireland. Your father, the late king, sent you to live with me and your- my wife, when you were still just a babe. There death threats against the royal family, and your real father wisely thought to save his dear daughter, his only child, by sending her to live with a trusted courtier," he paused here, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. It was so hard, for both her and himself, to say this. Damn that Roy Mustang! Damn him to a thousand levels of Hell and back, he thought grimly, though his rational side was aware that this had to happen some day. But so soon… Ah, how selfish I grow in my old age, he thought to himself as he glanced at the closed door, wondering if that damnable Mustang was listening. I've had her for almost 25 years. It's time I give Ireland their queen. And what a queen she'll be…
"And that infant daughter was you, Riza. You are a Dais, you are the only Dais left, the heir the throne of Ireland," he said, his statement ringing with such truth and clarity that Riza couldn't help but believe him. But still… Her? A Dais? It was almost laughable. A Dais was supposed to be raised in the courts of kings, a Lady Dais taught to sew and act as a proper lady should. Not to handle guns with the skill and precision of a surgeon. Not to be able to run a manor with one hand and take care of the elderly with the other. It wasn't right. She wasn't meant to be queen… She wasn't meant to be queen, but come Hell or high water, she was going to make her father, and the elder Hawkeye was her father, proud.
"Father," she said after several moments of wrestling with her feelings, "I'll become queen. But I will do it with the Hawkeye name. If I am to rule from the Irish throne, then I'll do it as a Hawkeye. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Mr. Mustang to see about political backing, and you need to find any sort of documents that will prove my bloodline." Riza blinked at her own efficiency, her own practicality. But then, she had always been like that. When something needed to be done, she did it. Her father, incredibly, smiled.
"You'll make a fine queen, Riza. Imagine, a Hawkeye on the throne," he said, his tone almost wistful. He had expected hate, anger, tears- Anything that would signal a negative reaction and a breaking of their relationship. But here there were smiles, action, and acceptance.
"We'll talk together later, father. I'm inviting Mr. Mustang over for dinner tonight, and we'll coordinate our efforts and such." She stood up, and smiled down at her father. "I really have no idea what I'm doing," she said in a wondering voice, and left the office.
Author's Drabble: Barely two pages, I know… I'm ever so sorry, but my inspiration bunny has decided to take a vacation. Though I quite like this chapter, for whatever reason. Some character development on Riza's side- She's not just a gun-toting bad-ass, you know. She is human… I must apologize for the lack of Roy. It pains me as well, but it needed to be done. I don't want to force the relationship between them so quickly. I plan on making them travel together, in secret, to get the capital of Ireland(I know that Dublin is the current capital, but I need an excuse to have them be together in close proximity of one another), because a powerful alchemist in the capital has his own designs on the throne, and doesn't want to see Riza take her rightful place. Hence the secrecy part. So, until next time, much love to those who have reviewed. I love you all!