To The Brave: a Royai Fanfiction

VI- Cold

A few weeks later, during the bleak midwinter when the snowfall was deep and shimmering white, Riza had been round to the most occupied rooms in the Hawkeye manor (namely the living room, Bethold's study, and the library) to light the fires to keep them warm.

Although she loved the snow, Riza hated the cold that it brought. Her father wasn't pleased at the amount of jumpers and cardigans that cluttered her wardrobe, but it was on days like this one that she would need a jumper or two for guaranteed warmth.

Berthold, on the other hand, practically insisted on freezing to death in his study, so Riza took care in putting extra wood into the room's fire as it would then last longer. He'd be thankful for it later.

When she had completed her job, she skipped downstairs and into the living room where she picked up a book she's left on the sofa arm.

The large, dull crimson curtains were open wide, letting in the bright light from outside. And even though the fire was burning, it was still rather cold.

From the living room window, Riza stared out onto the street, watching a large group of children dressed in wooly hats and coats throw snowballs at one another. She smiled amusingly, although wishing that her early childhood had been just as fun. Riza never got into any snowball fights, and never got to build an impressive snowman either because her mother had died when she was so young and her father never found anytime for such 'foolish behaviour', and neither did she have any friends to play with. Instead, she used to either go into the garden and attempt to build a snowman by herself, or simply stay in with a good book and a nice cup of hot chocolate. She knew which she preferred, but had always longed to have a taste at the other option.

The children screamed and shouted, the biggest smiles Riza had ever seen appeared on their faces as they chased each other with balls of icy snow in hand.

Footsteps approached, dragging against the wooden floorboards. She snapped her head the in the direction of the sound, hoping Roy would appear in the doorway. Alas, it was not.

Master Hawkeye entered the room, a grim expression on his ghostly-white face. His sad, dark eyes gave a fleeting glance around the room before resting upon his daughter. 

"It's that time of year when there's no peace," he grumbled disgustedly. "Children need to learn to behave themselves and act more maturely. Where's a snowball fight going to get them in life?"

"It's just harmless fun, father," Riza argued. "Children are supposed to be like that at their age."

"Or are they? We just say that because we- as a crippling society- think it's acceptable."

Riza didn't say anything in return. She continued watching the hurly-burly, and Berthold continued with his business in getting a drink from the kitchen and slowly recoiling back to his study without another word.

How typical of him.

She frowned in dismay of what her father had said. He seemed to hate everything that didn't concern him, and couldn't understand that sometimes things just happened in life that people had to deal with whether they like them or not. And that included screaming children. Why did he care anyway? It's not like he ever ventured outside into the white wonderland. He probably never had in his life.

No longer interested in looking outside, Riza followed her father's footsteps into the kitchen and- feeling generous- made two cups of tea. She then left and retreated back upstairs too. The hallways were a lot darker, almost eerie. As she passed the library, the door was closed, but light beamed from underneath the gap at the bottom of the door- Roy must be busy studying.