Rain poured down on the congregation, soaking them slowly. The scent of freshly dug earth was strong, making the woman standing at the forefront cringe.
It was too soon since the last time she stood in this cemetery; since she had watched another of her comrades lowered into an early grave.
She blinked against the memory of Maes Hughes' funeral. In her mind's eye she saw Elicia clinging to Gracia.
"Mommy, why are they burying Daddy?"
She blinked again, willing away the painful image. She had enough pain to deal with today.
As she came back to the present, she realized that a short, balding man had come to stand in front of the congregation. He was speaking and she frowned at the pretty words. He could not be describing the man she knew. The man she loved.
"Brave…Honest…Scrupulous… High Morals…" She almost laughed aloud at the thought. The man being buried today was far from scrupulous. His morals were dead and his honesty was selective. She sighed.
A flurry of quick drum beats sounded near her. There was a flurry of movement as those around her (including herself) sprang into a salute.
Slowly, 4 people walked into view and the dry humor she had was broken into a thousand pieces. They carried a coffin on their shoulders.
She stared, willing herself to keep the tears to herself as she watched Havoc, Fuery, Falman and Breda carry the empty casket.
It was a symbol, nothing more. He was not in there. She couldn't even get a last glimpse of his face.
"Lost in the field, fighting for his country. Let us not forget, Colonel Roy Mustang." The man finished the speech that she had ignored and stepped away.
She switched her attention back to the four men. Their expressions were grim, and Fuery was sobbing softly, the tears invisible in the rain.
Carefully, they set the empty coffin onto the large straps that spread across the grave. They stood erect and gave a long salute as a trumpet sounded a military salute.
The notes sent her mind into a frenzy of memories. Roy, in his office after Maes' funeral a bottle on his desk and his head in his hands. His grin when he belittled Edward's attempts to find the stone. The look of boredom as he signed a stack of papers on his desk. How his eyes always softened when he talked to her; how he showed her his vulnerability.
She closed her eyes, tears prickling her eyelids.
He was really gone. She'd never see his face again. Never hear his voice. Never feel his arms around her.
As the piercing notes of the trumpet faded away she turned her face skyward and let the tears merge with rain.
I don't really know how this came about... boredom I believe. Anyways its a short little drabble that needs your love and reviews. (grins)