For the community! ♥
Title: Lead and Follow
Recipient's name: The community
Rating: G
Pairing: Royai (and another surprise pairing)
Warning: Spoilers for Ch 52 and light spoilers for chapter 58 to 61 (just covering all my bases here)
Author's Notes: Spring is the start of the social season (including military balls). This developed out of that and my least nine months of studying ballroom dance.
Never give a sword to a man who can't dance.
~Confucius
The couples on the dance floor were a merry-go-round, rising and falling was they turned around the room. Roy could feel the push and the pull from his partner. The pull was on his shoulder, when she was the anchor of the dance and he pushed though the twirling steps. And then her push, as she took her turn on the precariously balanced forward step. And there was the same push and pull on his side, each step causing the skin around the burn scar to contort around the unpliable skin. It hurt, and affected their dancing. The younger couple, the ones without war wounds, sped past like the dance was a race, an athletic feat that showed off how supple their bodies were like a green branch in the height of spring. Perhaps, there were right.i
But there was more to a waltz than that. It was a balance, like a proper alchemical equation between partners. Balance between a man and a woman, the sun and the moon. It was a dance of trust. Trust that your partner wasn’t going to let go and send you reeling to the floor. Trust that they weren’t going to step on your feet. His partner trusted him, and Roy had no idea why.
Roy had failed to protect her. He’d taken someone precious to her, and yet here she was, dancing with him, trusting him with her safety. He shouldn’t have been trusted with anyone’s safety. He’d failed to protect so many things.
A sweeping turn brought one of those things into view, and Roy decided it was time for a direction change, to prevent dizziness, perhaps a few balance steps, for a pause.ii A rest was good, and it gave him the opportunity to look at Hawkeye, standing a step behind the Furher, and verify that she was okay. He had wanted to dance with her, but that might cause more damage to an already broken situation. As he watched, Armstrong approached the military leader.
“I would ask what you were staring at if I didn’t already know,” his partner whispered. Before she finished they were off again, into a right turning step, easier than the left, but just as dizzying. “She looks lovely tonight.” Hawkeye did look stunning in a ballgown, and it made Roy glad that the female officers were required to wear them to all military balls.
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Brief glimpses to the Fuhrer’s entourage as Roy faced that direction showed, in snap shot progression, Armstrong leading Hawkeye to the dance floor. Good, loyal Armstrong, no one ever suspected the Strong Arm Alchemist of anything dubious. Roy just hoped that Armstrong wouldn’t be another life drug into this sordid web.
“Lieutenant Hawkeye,” she said, her voice a bit windswept, “she looks lovely in green.”
“Not as lovely as you, Mrs. Hughes.”
“Oh, Roy, you old flirt.” There was bit of a giggle in that statement, along with some sadness.
“If I knew who your escort for the evening was, I might suggest you leave him for his horrible dubious character and spend the rest of the evening with me.”
“I would, but I’m afraid that you would have a hard time finding fault with Major Armstrong’s character.” Roy’s footing faltered for a moment and he felt her stumble.iii
“Major Armstrong?” he questioned, catching the rhythm again, covering his falter by switching back into the left turning step.
“Yes, he said it was a shame for me not to be able to wear the dress I had already bought for the occasion.”
“Well of course it would be,” he fought to fight to hide a grunt in the statement.
“Are you alright, Roy?” Gracia asked, sounding very much like a mother. He wasn’t certain all women were born with that tone; Hawkeye had never used it, but something they developed after having children in their lives. “I heard about your injury. Do we need to sit out?”
“No, no.” He assured, linking back to the right turn, “I can’t let all those women think any less of me.”
“You’re the same as ever,” she sighed. “Maes once said that your stubbornness was your best trait.”
“Was he right?”
“At this moment, no.” He laughed, throatily. He could hear her smile as she added, “but most of the time yes, it your best quality.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to improve my charm. It wouldn’t do to have people say that I’m stubborn.”
“Only those who really know you say that.”
“Speaking of knowing, how did Major Armstrong know about your gown?”
She giggled a little, “Elysia told him when he was over fixing the stair railing. He has a very artistic form of alchemy.”
“One might say that.” The dance was winding down; he could hear it in the music.iv He had a position he needed to be in by the end of the dance, so he switched steps and strategically maneuvered his partner through the crowd. It was a short burst, but it placed them closer to Armstrong, who was expounding on the dance and how it had been praised through generations of Armstrongs for its athleticism, and had been stressful on Roy’s side. The movement had been strained, and Roy was afraid that he’d leaned to heavily on Gracia during his turns. He just hoped she hadn’t noticed. “One might also say he had a way with words,” he added, attempting to resume the conversation.
“Yes, he does have a unique way of expressing himself.” The last few steps were approaching, and Roy decided to end their waltz with a flourish and they turned one more time before he spun her out and he bowed as low as his side would allow. “Thank you, Roy, I haven’t danced like that in ages.”
“It was my pleasure.” He offered her his arm, and escorted her off the floor, making sure that their path would intersect with Armstrong and Hawkeye’s. It was a contrived move, and he was certain that Bradley already knew that, so he concentrated on keeping Gracia safe in the crowd and to not show he was favoring his right side. “You will have to tell me sometime how Major Armstrong knew that your stair railing was broken,” Roy said as they were passing close enough that the Major could hear him through the crowd. Upon hearing his name, Armstrong looked in their direction.
“Ah, Roy Mustang,” Armstrong stated in his usual melodramatic fashion, “I see that you have shared a dance with Mrs. Hughes.” Hawkeye turned to look at his exclamation, smiling slightly. As she took Roy and Gracia in, he could see relief, amusement, and some annoyance in them. Then her eyes met his and they darkened, and she looked at Gracia.
“Yes, but I decided to return her to her escort before she got any ideas and ran off with me,” Roy said as Gracia released his arm and moved closer to the Major.
“If I didn’t know you were such a philander, I might,” Gracia stated. “But he would dump me for some shop girl before we left Central City. I think fidelity is a rather attractive feature in a man, don’t you agree Riza?”
“To a certain extent,” Hawkeye replied. “But I have all the loyalty I need from my dog.”
“Well, now that I have been called less than a dog, might I suggest you take Mrs. Hughes out to the floor, Major? She told me she hasn’t had a good turn in ages.” The Major looked shocked at the statement, and with a quick apology, he hurried Gracia out to dance, just at the first strains of music were playing. Noticing an opportunity he turned to face Hawkeye straight on and offered his hand. “Shall we join them?”
“You pushed yourself too hard on the waltz. I don’t think you could dance a two stepv.” Perhaps Roy wasn’t hiding his stressed body as well as he had thought, or Hawkeye just knew him that well.
“Then why don’t you allow me to escort you outside. It’s a bit crowded in here for a proper rest.” She nodded her assent and took his arm. Roy attempted to lead her towards the balcony off the side of the ballroom, but it was slow going with officers and their wives chatting about the current state of Amestris. If he was inclined to join into the conversation, Roy might explain just how piss poor the country was doing, but considering some of the hushed voices as they passed, he was certain he, himself, was at the center of a few of those conversation.
Hawkeye adjusted her arm, supporting him a more that before. It ruffled him a bit. They were at a ball, and while she was still a military officer, it wasn’t supposed to be her place to support him. That was his job tonight, but he was even failing at that. These days, failure seemed like the only thing that he was good at. He couldn’t lead anyone. He couldn’t protect anyone. All he could do was react when his strings were pulled.
They didn’t say anything during their trip outside, but as soon as they crossed the threshold, Hawkeye lead Roy to a bench near the railing and sat him down. The light through the windows reflected off her hair, casting a glow around her face. She looked stunning, like the woman she might have been if she had never followed him into the military.
She stood, a few feet away, looking out into the garden; the dark green of her dress nearly blended into the shadows of the garden. It was simple, not ostentatious like the dresses of the single society women looking to marry some hapless officer on his way up. Even Gracia’s dress was more complex than Hawkeye’s, but it fit Hawkeye’s new job. It wouldn’t do for the Furher’s aid to draw attention away from the First Lady.
“It’s a lovely night,” he said, looking to the sky. There was no moon or stars and it was slightly chilly, but that didn’t matter, it kept people inside.
“Yes it is.” She took a deep breath, her chest rising. “It’s refreshing.” Inside, the partygoers moved, their shadows stretching across the lawn like ghosts. The music from the orchestra was distant, like the music box that he had taught Riza to dance with.
“Do you remember learning the two-step?” Roy asked, and she laughed.
“I was so certain that I would wind up on the floor.”
“But I caught you.”
“And wound up under me on the floor.”vi
“It’s the man’s job to protect his partner.” He had said the same thing at the time. She seemed so shocked that he would even consider it.
“Only in dance.”
“Only with us.” Roy moved over on the bench. “Come sit, you’re feet must be tired after standing all night.” She smiled a sad smile and sat as ordered, placing her hand on her lap like a proper lady. “You look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” The faintest of blushes dusted her cheeks. It was subtle, like everything that
Riza did.
“How are you doing?”
“Well enough.”
“Good” He turned, pretending to look out into the garden. Instead he found his eyes on the back of her neck, where the lace of her dress just kissing her hairline. It was provocative on her, intimate, and yet hiding so much. His hand slid near her thigh, brushing the folds of her dress. His back was to the ballroom, and once he was certain no one could see him speak, he said “I’ve been worried about you.” She looked shocked for a moment, but composed herself quickly.
She smiled at him, and placed her hand over his, giving his hand a squeeze. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it would do. She added an, “I’m fine,” and another squeeze, before he turned his palm over and squeezed back.
They sat there, silent, relishing the intimate touch. Then something cold and wet landed on his nose. Roy blinked twice and looked skyward. He saw the white dot just before it landed on his forehead.
“I think it’s snowing?”
“In the Spring?”
“It’s not unheard of.”
“But surprising.”
“We should head inside. You aren’t dressed for this kind of weather.” Reluctantly, he removed his hand from hers and extended his arm. Even though she was still touching him, it wasn’t the same. As they turned to head back inside he added, “Besides, you still owe me a dance.”
i The dance they’re doing is a Viennese Walrz, but since there’s no Vienna, I can’t call it that.
Viennese Waltz is the “princess” waltz. If there’s a ballroom scene in a movie, usually they’re doing Viennese. It’s a traditional dance for the Victorian (turn of the century) balls, which is the ear that FMA is set in (kind of). It is a very difficult dance, and used to only be taught to gold level (the top level) of ballroom dancers because of the complexity of the footwork and the balance needed in the partnership.
ii Because of the speed of the turns in Viennese waltz there are two directionalities in the steps, left and right. The men, usually called the lead, switch between directions to prevent dizziness. Balance steps are a waltz exclusive step. It is one step to three beats of music and are used for gaining balance and catching your breath. Viennese waltz is a very athletic dance.
iii Because of the complexity of the partnerships in ballroom dance, if one partner stumbles the other will. In the smooth dances (waltz, foxtrot, tango, ect) the dancers dance in diaphragm contact, which means that the woman’s bellybutton is in contact with the man’s right deltoid. This position doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for misfootings and therefore if one partners messes up that means there are stumbles and feet getting stepped on.
iv Not sure I need to explain this, but I will. As the songs for a Viennese waltz are coming to a close, you will usually hear a build up in the music. Songs usually last between three and five minutes (and trust me, that’s all the dancing you can handle with this one.)
v The two-step is another traditional Victorian ball dance. It’s much like the modern Quickstep, fast and complicated. It is not to be confused with Country two-step or Nightclub two-step. On an interesting note, the Two-step is the predecessor of the Foxtrot, which didn’t come around until 1914 when vaudevillian actor Harry Fox did a “trotting” step to ragtime music.
vi In dance etiquette, it’s bad manners to let your lady hit the floor. It’s the man’s job to not only lead but to protect the lady. Ballroom dance in the sport of kings, its rules like this that bring it back to those days.
Recipient's name: The community
Rating: G
Pairing: Royai (and another surprise pairing)
Warning: Spoilers for Ch 52 and light spoilers for chapter 58 to 61 (just covering all my bases here)
Author's Notes: Spring is the start of the social season (including military balls). This developed out of that and my least nine months of studying ballroom dance.
Never give a sword to a man who can't dance.
~Confucius
The couples on the dance floor were a merry-go-round, rising and falling was they turned around the room. Roy could feel the push and the pull from his partner. The pull was on his shoulder, when she was the anchor of the dance and he pushed though the twirling steps. And then her push, as she took her turn on the precariously balanced forward step. And there was the same push and pull on his side, each step causing the skin around the burn scar to contort around the unpliable skin. It hurt, and affected their dancing. The younger couple, the ones without war wounds, sped past like the dance was a race, an athletic feat that showed off how supple their bodies were like a green branch in the height of spring. Perhaps, there were right.i
But there was more to a waltz than that. It was a balance, like a proper alchemical equation between partners. Balance between a man and a woman, the sun and the moon. It was a dance of trust. Trust that your partner wasn’t going to let go and send you reeling to the floor. Trust that they weren’t going to step on your feet. His partner trusted him, and Roy had no idea why.
Roy had failed to protect her. He’d taken someone precious to her, and yet here she was, dancing with him, trusting him with her safety. He shouldn’t have been trusted with anyone’s safety. He’d failed to protect so many things.
A sweeping turn brought one of those things into view, and Roy decided it was time for a direction change, to prevent dizziness, perhaps a few balance steps, for a pause.ii A rest was good, and it gave him the opportunity to look at Hawkeye, standing a step behind the Furher, and verify that she was okay. He had wanted to dance with her, but that might cause more damage to an already broken situation. As he watched, Armstrong approached the military leader.
“I would ask what you were staring at if I didn’t already know,” his partner whispered. Before she finished they were off again, into a right turning step, easier than the left, but just as dizzying. “She looks lovely tonight.” Hawkeye did look stunning in a ballgown, and it made Roy glad that the female officers were required to wear them to all military balls.
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Brief glimpses to the Fuhrer’s entourage as Roy faced that direction showed, in snap shot progression, Armstrong leading Hawkeye to the dance floor. Good, loyal Armstrong, no one ever suspected the Strong Arm Alchemist of anything dubious. Roy just hoped that Armstrong wouldn’t be another life drug into this sordid web.
“Lieutenant Hawkeye,” she said, her voice a bit windswept, “she looks lovely in green.”
“Not as lovely as you, Mrs. Hughes.”
“Oh, Roy, you old flirt.” There was bit of a giggle in that statement, along with some sadness.
“If I knew who your escort for the evening was, I might suggest you leave him for his horrible dubious character and spend the rest of the evening with me.”
“I would, but I’m afraid that you would have a hard time finding fault with Major Armstrong’s character.” Roy’s footing faltered for a moment and he felt her stumble.iii
“Major Armstrong?” he questioned, catching the rhythm again, covering his falter by switching back into the left turning step.
“Yes, he said it was a shame for me not to be able to wear the dress I had already bought for the occasion.”
“Well of course it would be,” he fought to fight to hide a grunt in the statement.
“Are you alright, Roy?” Gracia asked, sounding very much like a mother. He wasn’t certain all women were born with that tone; Hawkeye had never used it, but something they developed after having children in their lives. “I heard about your injury. Do we need to sit out?”
“No, no.” He assured, linking back to the right turn, “I can’t let all those women think any less of me.”
“You’re the same as ever,” she sighed. “Maes once said that your stubbornness was your best trait.”
“Was he right?”
“At this moment, no.” He laughed, throatily. He could hear her smile as she added, “but most of the time yes, it your best quality.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to improve my charm. It wouldn’t do to have people say that I’m stubborn.”
“Only those who really know you say that.”
“Speaking of knowing, how did Major Armstrong know about your gown?”
She giggled a little, “Elysia told him when he was over fixing the stair railing. He has a very artistic form of alchemy.”
“One might say that.” The dance was winding down; he could hear it in the music.iv He had a position he needed to be in by the end of the dance, so he switched steps and strategically maneuvered his partner through the crowd. It was a short burst, but it placed them closer to Armstrong, who was expounding on the dance and how it had been praised through generations of Armstrongs for its athleticism, and had been stressful on Roy’s side. The movement had been strained, and Roy was afraid that he’d leaned to heavily on Gracia during his turns. He just hoped she hadn’t noticed. “One might also say he had a way with words,” he added, attempting to resume the conversation.
“Yes, he does have a unique way of expressing himself.” The last few steps were approaching, and Roy decided to end their waltz with a flourish and they turned one more time before he spun her out and he bowed as low as his side would allow. “Thank you, Roy, I haven’t danced like that in ages.”
“It was my pleasure.” He offered her his arm, and escorted her off the floor, making sure that their path would intersect with Armstrong and Hawkeye’s. It was a contrived move, and he was certain that Bradley already knew that, so he concentrated on keeping Gracia safe in the crowd and to not show he was favoring his right side. “You will have to tell me sometime how Major Armstrong knew that your stair railing was broken,” Roy said as they were passing close enough that the Major could hear him through the crowd. Upon hearing his name, Armstrong looked in their direction.
“Ah, Roy Mustang,” Armstrong stated in his usual melodramatic fashion, “I see that you have shared a dance with Mrs. Hughes.” Hawkeye turned to look at his exclamation, smiling slightly. As she took Roy and Gracia in, he could see relief, amusement, and some annoyance in them. Then her eyes met his and they darkened, and she looked at Gracia.
“Yes, but I decided to return her to her escort before she got any ideas and ran off with me,” Roy said as Gracia released his arm and moved closer to the Major.
“If I didn’t know you were such a philander, I might,” Gracia stated. “But he would dump me for some shop girl before we left Central City. I think fidelity is a rather attractive feature in a man, don’t you agree Riza?”
“To a certain extent,” Hawkeye replied. “But I have all the loyalty I need from my dog.”
“Well, now that I have been called less than a dog, might I suggest you take Mrs. Hughes out to the floor, Major? She told me she hasn’t had a good turn in ages.” The Major looked shocked at the statement, and with a quick apology, he hurried Gracia out to dance, just at the first strains of music were playing. Noticing an opportunity he turned to face Hawkeye straight on and offered his hand. “Shall we join them?”
“You pushed yourself too hard on the waltz. I don’t think you could dance a two stepv.” Perhaps Roy wasn’t hiding his stressed body as well as he had thought, or Hawkeye just knew him that well.
“Then why don’t you allow me to escort you outside. It’s a bit crowded in here for a proper rest.” She nodded her assent and took his arm. Roy attempted to lead her towards the balcony off the side of the ballroom, but it was slow going with officers and their wives chatting about the current state of Amestris. If he was inclined to join into the conversation, Roy might explain just how piss poor the country was doing, but considering some of the hushed voices as they passed, he was certain he, himself, was at the center of a few of those conversation.
Hawkeye adjusted her arm, supporting him a more that before. It ruffled him a bit. They were at a ball, and while she was still a military officer, it wasn’t supposed to be her place to support him. That was his job tonight, but he was even failing at that. These days, failure seemed like the only thing that he was good at. He couldn’t lead anyone. He couldn’t protect anyone. All he could do was react when his strings were pulled.
They didn’t say anything during their trip outside, but as soon as they crossed the threshold, Hawkeye lead Roy to a bench near the railing and sat him down. The light through the windows reflected off her hair, casting a glow around her face. She looked stunning, like the woman she might have been if she had never followed him into the military.
She stood, a few feet away, looking out into the garden; the dark green of her dress nearly blended into the shadows of the garden. It was simple, not ostentatious like the dresses of the single society women looking to marry some hapless officer on his way up. Even Gracia’s dress was more complex than Hawkeye’s, but it fit Hawkeye’s new job. It wouldn’t do for the Furher’s aid to draw attention away from the First Lady.
“It’s a lovely night,” he said, looking to the sky. There was no moon or stars and it was slightly chilly, but that didn’t matter, it kept people inside.
“Yes it is.” She took a deep breath, her chest rising. “It’s refreshing.” Inside, the partygoers moved, their shadows stretching across the lawn like ghosts. The music from the orchestra was distant, like the music box that he had taught Riza to dance with.
“Do you remember learning the two-step?” Roy asked, and she laughed.
“I was so certain that I would wind up on the floor.”
“But I caught you.”
“And wound up under me on the floor.”vi
“It’s the man’s job to protect his partner.” He had said the same thing at the time. She seemed so shocked that he would even consider it.
“Only in dance.”
“Only with us.” Roy moved over on the bench. “Come sit, you’re feet must be tired after standing all night.” She smiled a sad smile and sat as ordered, placing her hand on her lap like a proper lady. “You look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” The faintest of blushes dusted her cheeks. It was subtle, like everything that
Riza did.
“How are you doing?”
“Well enough.”
“Good” He turned, pretending to look out into the garden. Instead he found his eyes on the back of her neck, where the lace of her dress just kissing her hairline. It was provocative on her, intimate, and yet hiding so much. His hand slid near her thigh, brushing the folds of her dress. His back was to the ballroom, and once he was certain no one could see him speak, he said “I’ve been worried about you.” She looked shocked for a moment, but composed herself quickly.
She smiled at him, and placed her hand over his, giving his hand a squeeze. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it would do. She added an, “I’m fine,” and another squeeze, before he turned his palm over and squeezed back.
They sat there, silent, relishing the intimate touch. Then something cold and wet landed on his nose. Roy blinked twice and looked skyward. He saw the white dot just before it landed on his forehead.
“I think it’s snowing?”
“In the Spring?”
“It’s not unheard of.”
“But surprising.”
“We should head inside. You aren’t dressed for this kind of weather.” Reluctantly, he removed his hand from hers and extended his arm. Even though she was still touching him, it wasn’t the same. As they turned to head back inside he added, “Besides, you still owe me a dance.”
i The dance they’re doing is a Viennese Walrz, but since there’s no Vienna, I can’t call it that.
Viennese Waltz is the “princess” waltz. If there’s a ballroom scene in a movie, usually they’re doing Viennese. It’s a traditional dance for the Victorian (turn of the century) balls, which is the ear that FMA is set in (kind of). It is a very difficult dance, and used to only be taught to gold level (the top level) of ballroom dancers because of the complexity of the footwork and the balance needed in the partnership.
ii Because of the speed of the turns in Viennese waltz there are two directionalities in the steps, left and right. The men, usually called the lead, switch between directions to prevent dizziness. Balance steps are a waltz exclusive step. It is one step to three beats of music and are used for gaining balance and catching your breath. Viennese waltz is a very athletic dance.
iii Because of the complexity of the partnerships in ballroom dance, if one partner stumbles the other will. In the smooth dances (waltz, foxtrot, tango, ect) the dancers dance in diaphragm contact, which means that the woman’s bellybutton is in contact with the man’s right deltoid. This position doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for misfootings and therefore if one partners messes up that means there are stumbles and feet getting stepped on.
iv Not sure I need to explain this, but I will. As the songs for a Viennese waltz are coming to a close, you will usually hear a build up in the music. Songs usually last between three and five minutes (and trust me, that’s all the dancing you can handle with this one.)
v The two-step is another traditional Victorian ball dance. It’s much like the modern Quickstep, fast and complicated. It is not to be confused with Country two-step or Nightclub two-step. On an interesting note, the Two-step is the predecessor of the Foxtrot, which didn’t come around until 1914 when vaudevillian actor Harry Fox did a “trotting” step to ragtime music.
vi In dance etiquette, it’s bad manners to let your lady hit the floor. It’s the man’s job to not only lead but to protect the lady. Ballroom dance in the sport of kings, its rules like this that bring it back to those days.