Well, this is my second attempt at a Royai, and another attempt to capture tension in words. I hope to have it finished soon... but I'm not too sure. I don't think this'll be too long – right now, I plan to end it in three parts. Concrit, questions and suggestions are always welcome.

The Alchemist's Daughter

Kindling

By Tanya Lilac

Riza knew exactly what this entailed. So did he. They were very clinical about it. Jackets were removed, folded neatly, and slung over the back of a chair. She sat on the bed, and undid the buttons of her blouse with her back to him, but it was not from shyness or an attempt to be coy. But, as the shirt slid over her soft shoulders, and down the gentle curve of her back, Roy's breath caught, and he was unable to take his eyes away.

She turned her head slightly, and he blushed at being caught out, and turned away to let her settle. He only turned back when he heard the rustle of the bed sheets stop. She was lying on the bed, her back bared to him. She crossed her arms and rested her head upon them, and stared at him with those piercing, honey –hued eyes of hers. They were such a soothing colour, but the intensity of her gaze spoke volumes.

"So," she said softly, her eyes sliding shut. "Now, you know."

After the funeral, Riza asked Roy to stay with her once again, in his old rooms (for one last time, her eyes said). It would be more convenient for the both of them and it would be easier to cross reference his notes, since all the related books would still be in the study. Her eyes, then, had been steady – as they had been throughout the service. Perhaps she had cried all she would. It seemed like something she would do. He had accepted the offer without inflection in his voice; this was not the time for...

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Roy remembered where he was. Clearing his throat, he sat at Riza's desk and switched on her desk lamp to better study the array on her back. Without thinking, he reached for the book he had brought in with him and opened it to the first page, briskly sketching the main outlines of the tattoo. However, when he looked closer at her back, he realised it went far beyond an array. He sighed.

At this, Riza's eyes snapped open.

"Is something wrong?"

Roy smiled at her. "No, I just realised how much... how much this must have hurt for you."

She sighed and turned onto her side. Roy picked up his book and pen, and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed as he began to copy out the notes.

"I can't remember how old I was," she said suddenly. "I think... I think I was eleven or twelve."

For some inexplicable reason, the sound of her voice, and being close enough to her, to smell her skin, made his breath quicken. She shivered, feeling his eyes upon her, and he watched with fascination as her skin turned to gooseflesh. He had tried to be detached. But he couldn't deny the facts – she was a strong and beautiful woman, but she was also his teacher's daughter. She was entrusting her back to him... and to abuse that trust, to exploit her in yet another manner... would be despicable.

"It took... hours," her voice had taken on a dreamy tone. "But it felt like forever. He did it himself, and he kept talking the entire time to distract me."

Roy tried to imagine the scene in his head, and smiled. "What did you talk about?"

"Everything... and nothing," she said. "We talked about my duty – I knew what this meant, of course, but he felt he had to tell me. And I understood. We talked about... my mother. I think I cried, when he was doing the salamander. So, he started talking about her. It's something he never does, but I'm not sure why." He heard the catch in her voice as she corrected herself. "Something he never did."

"Did you talk about me?" Roy teased, trying to draw her away.

"Yes."

He heard the smile in her voice.

"You were a part of the 'nothing' side of our conversation," she replied. "What did we say? He really did think you were the best student he had ever had... although, he remained quite shocked and very amused about your reaction at that dinner where –"

"Don't continue that story, please." Roy groaned, his pen stilling for a moment.

"I think it's a good memory. It could be something to hold against you in the future," she said.

"Blackmailing me already? I already owe you for this! I forgot how spiteful you could be."

"Blackmail?" Riza's voice had changed subtly, and Roy tensed. "I don't think I could ever go through with it. I'd always... I would like to think that I would support you, and be on your side, Mustang-san."

The sound of his name, from her lips, sent an electric jolt through his body. It was unexpected, but not too unpleasant.

He cleared his throat again. "Would you like a book?"

"What do you have? And please, no alchemic texts."

"I actually have a novel with me ... it's this story about an alchemist who tries to create a perfect being, another life, out of the bodies of the dead... but I think it ends up destroying his entire world... I bought it last week, but haven't had the time... to read anything but the back cover."

Riza smiled. Carrying conversations with her father's pupil, while he had been reading an interesting article or journal or book had always been difficult, because his attention was solely focussed on the text. It didn't seem like he had gotten any better at multi tasking.

"It sounds interesting," she said quietly. "May I take a look?"

He stopped writing and reached for his jacket, pulling the novel out of the pocket. As he handed it to her, she asked, "Do you mind if I read aloud, or would you rather read it yourself?"

The pen continued once more in its dance. "No," its owner said. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

That evening, Roy confessed to being nowhere near finished, as he stretched and ran his fingers through his hair.

"They're very detailed... and it may take me a bit longer than I had originally thought."

Dinner – a warm salad served with steak – had been served, and cleared away long ago, and it sounded like everyone else in the household was now asleep. Rubbing his tired eyes, Roy glanced over at the clock. It was just past midnight.

Riza had stopped reading for a while and was now watching him as he packed up his notes. Roy paused and gazed back at her. "The notes?" She nodded, and he smirked. "When I finish, I'll burn them for you."

He switched off the lamp and picked up his notes. Riza gathered the sheets around her and sat up with a small smile. "You're not seriously going to take them with you and keep reading all night, are you? You never change, you're such a workaholic." She sighed. "Sleep. If you're too tired tomorrow, you'll make mistakes. You'll have all the time you need to study your notes afterwards." She held out her hand, and Roy reluctantly gave her the book. She slipped it under her pillow, and he sighed.

"Goodnight, Mustang-san," she said quietly.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine, and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Hawkeye-san."

They continued to follow this routine for the next week. The maids gossiped about what their mistress and the handsome alchemist were doing in her room all day, and why she always had that 'just dressed' look when they brought in their meals. Roy flirted with them incessantly when they came in to close the curtains and light the brazier at dusk, in a very successful attempt to distract them from Riza's hasty dressing. They could assume what they liked, but Riza had deeply ingrained habits that ensured that she always kept the tattoo covered, even from the household staff.

Late one evening at the end of the week, Roy was making the finishing touches on his notes and cross checking. His warm, dry hand brushed against the soft skin of her back and she flinched involuntarily.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, very hastily.

He couldn't see her face – she was lying stomach down again, and he was sitting behind her on the bed – but he was sure that she was smiling.

"Are you almost done yet?" She asked, her voice trembling. Was she laughing?

Roy nodded and shut his book. "All done. I'll be borrowing the study for a little while."

"Or," Riza replied, picking up a night dress and moving behind a screen to change into it, "You could ask me."

Roy made to leave, but Riza stopped him once again. "Wait for me," she said, coming out from behind the screen. The satin garment didn't cover her back completely, nor did it hide the shapeliness of her legs and the slight curves of her slender body. Roy found his throat dry for the second time and inwardly cursed. What was he, just a fumbling, blushing seventeen year old again?

She picked up her robe and slipped into it to cover her back, but left it untied.

"Okay, let's go."

Roy gave her a confused look. "Where?"

She smiled and snatched the book from him, and threw it onto her bed. "No more studying tonight." Stop trying to study me, her eyes seemed to say. Stop trying to figure me out. You know me already. She daringly grabbed his hand and pulled him out of her room, their feet making no noise upon the plush rugs. They slipped silently down the stairs, past the grandfather clock that ticked incessantly, past the formal dining room and the study door, into the kitchen.

Letting go of his hand, Riza turned on the lights and Roy blinked at the sudden brightness. "I've been craving this all week, but I decided to wait until you had finished your notes first," she explained. Opening the freezer, she rummaged around before finding her prize.

"Cheesecake?" Roy said in disbelief. "You dragged me out here for cheesecake?"

"Not just any cheesecake. It's cheesecake from –"

"The bakery in the third district. The Florentine, right?"

Riza nodded and pulled the cake out of the box and placed it on a dish. Opening a drawer, she pulled out a knife and two spoons and ran hot water over the blade. She cut two generous slices and placed them on plates before sliding one across the counter to Roy, before sitting on the bench top to enjoy dessert.

"Really takes you back, doesn't it?" She said quietly.

Roy smirked. "I can't remember the last time I had this. I must have been... what? Seventeen? I remember your father used to be really strict on curfews. One night, I came down for a glass of water, but I found you in here, cheesecake in hand, and you offered me some – the cook could never figure out why it never seemed to last... but I think your father knew."

"Nothing ever escapes the eyes of the hawk."

He looked over at her, alarmed by the tone of her voice. She had left the cake untouched and was looking down at the ground. He could see the tears that threatened to spill over as her voice shook with the effort of holding in so many other words. Words better left unsaid.

"I was the alchemist's daughter," she whispered. "I was... the alchemist's daughter. I was supposed to be like him, everyone thought. But then I was... talentless in their eyes. All of his colleagues... just looked down on me from then on, because I was just another weak girl, growing up without a mother. I know ... I know the principle of equivalent exchange." She took a breath. "I carry the secrets I can't use."

She closed her eyes slowly, and the tears ran down her cheeks. "When I heard you were coming to visit, I bought this, because we haven't had it in years. But then... he's not here anymore." She brushed the tears away with shaking hands and Roy quickly closed the space between them and captured her hands.

"Riza..." he began, and heard the catch of her breath.

The last time he had called her that... it had been in fear, anger and panic. She'd been unable to do anything to help him.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him, gently pulling him closer to her with her hands. He let go of them tentatively and she slid them up his arms and laced them around his neck as he deepened the kiss. She smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, growling softly as she felt him try to pull away.

"No, Riza," he said softly as he succeeded. "It can't be like this. Not now."

She pushed herself off the bench, her feet landing lightly on the cold marble. "When else, then?" She breathed huskily, her hands returning to their previous ministrations. They moved to the buttons on his shirt and he stilled her hands again, this time more firmly.

"Please," he said softly. He had been craving this all week, but it would not end like this. He could see the pain in her eyes, and had already decided that she was far too ... precious for this, especially in her current state. "Please, stop."

The hands upon his shirt clenched into fists and he gently folded his arms around her as she began to cry, deep, heart wrenching sobs into his chest. He knew these tears were not for him.