Sources of Sunlight

by ForFun100

Summary:

When Riza Hawkeye’s father passes away just before her fourteenth birthday she assumes she will be carted off to an orphanage. Instead, she is taken to live with her maternal grandfather and enters a world she knows nothing about. Still, she’s not about to take this world at face value, nor is she willing to let go of her father’s secrets. Enter Roy Mustang and it all falls to shit. AU

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

New Fic alert! I'm really excited and a little nervous to post this one - mostly because I have a half-baked plan and a dream lol. Kind of posting this to gage interest more than anything but I do have tons of ideas for this fic so hopefully we make something great! Honestly this has been living in my drafts for months now (and I have 10 chapters written shhhh) so I figured I should just post and see what happens.

So, without further ado - Enjoy friend!

Her father’s dying words had been, “Don’t you dare let my secrets fall into the wrong hands.” Which Riza is fairly certain is the closest she will ever get to a profession of love or pride from the man. That’s why she’s not crying; at least, that’s what she tells herself as she stands in the hall for his wake.

She hasn’t gone to see his corpse yet, even with the open casket. She doesn’t see a point really; she’d been with him as he died and she’d helped set up this whole sham of an event, so frankly, she’s had enough of looking at him. This event that she didn’t even want to have had taken up more of her time and energy than she wanted to admit. His stupid attorney had insisted that this is what Berthold wanted, as was stipulated in his will - Riza would have to disagree with that assertion.

Afterall, this wholly unnecessary funeral not only invited strangers into their home but sucked up what remained of her father’s money. After debts, funeral costs, and the grave plot were paid for, there was hardly a handful of cens left for her. Not that she could say for certain one way or another if her father had anticipated such a high attendance for his wake.

She’s shocked by the amount of people who have shown up to pay their respects. Berthold Hawkeye, the recluse who barely left the house in the past decade, apparently had friends all over the country and now they’re all here gawking at how fragile he looks as a corpse.

“I can’t imagine how painful his last few years must have been.”

“He must have truly suffered.”

“A brilliant mind gone too soon.”

“Do we know what took him in the end?”

“Doesn’t even have family by his side.”

“Didn’t you hear? That’s his daughter over there.”

“And where’s her mother?”

“Dead long before her time.”

“Poor thing.”

She shuffles from her post by the door, away from the commentary from men she’s never met who must, at least in part, know how tragic her life has been. It’s tragic that she has been locked in this house alone with a man obsessed with his research for the last thirteen years of her life. Fourteen, really; in two weeks she’ll be fourteen and she’s fairly certain that means she will never get the chance to have a proper family.

Orphans are already unwanted, teenage orphans might as well be plague incarnate - something to be avoided at all costs. She’ll go from being unwanted by a father to being a burden on society. She wonders if she’ll be able to survive in an orphanage for four years or if she’ll be joining her parents in an early grave.

“I see we’re lost in thought.” An older man with a kind smile approaches her.

Riza flicks her gaze up to him and nods. “I hope you’ll understand, funerals are the types of events that call for solemnity.”

“Indeed they are,” he concedes. “Would you mind if I stood and thought beside you?”

She gestures to an empty section of wall for him.

“It’s quite a thing of beauty, is it not? To see all the people whose lives we touch gather together to say goodbye.”

“I’m not sure if I’d call it beautiful… but the gesture is appreciated,” Riza says, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Your father was a force of nature to be sure,” the man says quietly.

“I take it you were an old friend of his,” she responds conversationally.

“Hardly,” he chuckles. “But he did have a profound impact on my life.”

“May I ask in what way?” She mutters the question as her eyes glance up toward a group of soldiers entering the hall. An odd thing considering her father abhorred the military and refused to work with them so fervently that he moved the two of them to a remote village as far west as he could manage.

“Well, he made me a grandfather for one,” he says, flashing her a smile.

“I’m sorry?” she asks.

“Took my daughter right out from under me, whisked her off to the mountains where he sired a daughter of his own, and then he died. Quite the impact, wouldn’t you agree?” He’s still smiling, though much softer now as he gently pats her arm.

“You… you’re teasing me.”

“I assure you I’m not.”

“General Grumman, sir.” One of the soldiers salutes him and Riza’s heart lurches in her chest. Isn’t General Grumman a titan of a man? Isn’t he a war hero? A man like that can’t possibly be her grandfather… right? “A message from Central Command for you.”

Grumman sighs, “Oh not now, I’m in the middle of a family reunion.”

“It’s from the Führer, sir.” The soldier looks deeply unsettled and it puts Riza on her guard.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” he responds with a flippant wave of the hand.

“But-”

“You have your orders, Sergeant.” The terse snip of his voice causes the soldier to fumble with a salute before turning away. A laugh falls out of Grumman’s lips and he mutters something about family she doesn’t quite hear.

“Are you making fun of me, sir?” Riza manages to ask.

“Hm? Oh no, of course not.” Grumman turns to her with a blissfully ignorant smile.

Riza chuckles in response, “Are you certain?”

“You are my Lydia’s child, I wouldn’t lie about such a thing.” Grumman takes her hand and squeezes it. Riza pauses as she processes that, he knows her mother’s name. How does he know her mother’s name?

She’ll be the first to admit she’s on her guard, that she is looking for motive behind the eyes of every man who comes to speak to her. This man, however, doesn’t look at her with curiosity - he looks at her with kindness in his eyes. He is trying to placate her, he’s trying to put her at ease. It almost makes her more skittish.

“You… you’re my mother’s father… I don’t believe it.”

He looks at her with such tenderness that she finds herself doubtful of her words.

“I’ve been trying to meet you for quite some time, unfortunately the deceased told me if I were to attempt a visit I’d make it back to Central in a body bag.”

“Well that’s… aggressive,” Riza says, breathless and disbelieving.

“I thought so too,” Grumman laughs. “I can’t fault a man for being protective of his family, but I can be bitter about it.”

“Which I take it you are.”

“Clever girl.” His eyes gleam with a teasing light. He's still holding her hand and for a moment she feels warm inside.

Then she remembers herself and takes her hand from his. “So, I assume that you came to dance on his grave?”

He laughs, “Hardly, though I like the way you think. I came to retrieve you, dear.”

“Retrieve me?”

“Well, knowing your father, I doubt he remembered to list a guardian for you in his will.”

Riza bites her lip and drops her gaze to her shoes. He hadn’t listed a guardian for her; his will only outlined where assets would go and that all of his research be left to her. Most of his research is in shambles now, incomprehensible notes that are meant to deceive. Riza knows the truth and her spine prickles as she thinks about it.

“I’m sorry, it must have been… all of this must be difficult,” Grumman says. “But I hope… I hope that knowing you still have some family will bring you a bit of comfort.”

“So you… you want me to come live with you? Even though father didn’t put me under your protection?” Riza asks.

“I would very much like for you to come live with me in East City,” Grumman smiles at her. “If you find that amenable.”

“You would let me choose between your home or an orphanage?” She looks at him, partially stunned and partially disbelieving.

Grumman is plainly surprised by that. “An orphanage… I had assumed he would have put you in contact with someone else… maybe a girl’s school or… you mean to say he left you with no plan at all?”

Riza nods. “I… I suppose that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

There’s a stormy look that overcomes the man before her. Even with his smaller stature, (the two of them are around the same height, after all, though he might be an inch or two shorter than her) he gives off a profound presence. She remembers that soldier called him General and his military training shows in the way he stands. He looks like a man who commands respect and she has to wonder why her father didn’t respect him.

He swallows whatever he wants to say, and instead takes in a deep breath as he comes back to Earth. “Well, Riza… I would still very much like for you to consider coming to live with me. I know I have never been a grandfather to you. But I hope… I would like to have the chance to be your family.”

There’s a lapse in their conversation then, him looking at her and her looking at the room filled with people she knows nothing about. All of these people that her father could have left her to, all of these people who took a train to the middle of nowhere to say goodbye. It all feels precarious, maybe even a little nefarious as she wonders what these people were hoping to find.

What they were hoping to gain might be the better question.

“Thank you… General. I would like some time, if you don’t mind… to think on that.” She says it methodically, scanning the room for any sign of something untoward. People are commenting on the derelict nature of the estate, how it must have fallen into disrepair when Berthold got sick.

People are looking into the little glass bowl that has been her home for the past decade. Her father’s estate, a lonely little burrow that once felt like a prison now feels like a display case. This once unassuming place is full and it sets the hair on the back of her neck to attention.

“I think I can understand that, all of this… all of this must be very overwhelming,” he muses, following her gaze to the other attendees.

“It’s almost time for the procession. I will… speak to you later.” She curtsies to him and walks over to the casket.

The hall has cleared some to make way for the pallbearers, though nobody stops her from approaching her father. Berthold’s features are sunken and gray; his visage does not shock her at all. In his last few months of life he had been quite ill and colorless. His hair has already begun to fall out, and the coroner had to sew his mouth and eyes shut to make him presentable for the wake. He looks unchanged from the day he died, when he made Riza swear to keep his secrets. 

She wishes she could speak to him now as they close up his casket to begin the procession. She may not have loved her father, but she cannot bring herself to hate him, much as she wishes she could.

In her mind she asks him why he left her; why he didn’t leave her a guardian; why he never bothered to tell her that her grandfather wanted to be in her life; why he never told her so many people knew about him and his research; why he never warned her that so many people would be vying for his secrets. She can make excuses for him, in fact, she thinks she should make excuses for him, but this time she won’t.

General Grumman does not go to the cemetery with the procession, whatever business the Führer had for him must be important. She watches the casket fill his grave, and she still hasn’t shed a tear for him; she’s starting to wonder if she ever will.

It’ll rain soon, and her father must be furious about that wherever souls go in the afterlife. He hated the rain, it made his alchemy useless; and useless was the worst thing a human could be, in his eyes. It was his favorite insult to throw around, especially when she was in his way.

She waits by his grave until everyone else is gone, and feels herself sinking into the earth as the humidity grows around her. It’s buggy and hot as she stares at his headstone: All becomes none and the world spins on. His epitaph was just as pretentious as he had been; if it were up to her she’d have left the stone as barren as his life.

His life had amounted to nothing, he died alone with a child who feared him, and worst of all he left behind a dangerous alchemy that Riza is convinced can never be used. How is she meant to think fondly of a man who was pathetic, through and through. Pathetic, that’s the only word she can think of to describe him.

“Miss Riza? Are you alright?” She turns towards the hearse driver. The vehicle is still parked at the entrance of the cemetery and he looks at her sadly.

“I am, thank you.”

“Can I give you a lift back home?” he asks quietly.

She looks back to her father’s grave, biting the inside of her lip as she thinks. In spite of everything, her father would not have wanted her to suffer, she believes that. Maybe it’s because she feels like she has to believe it, or maybe somewhere in the beyond her father isn’t angry about the rain, he’s just wracked with worry over what will become of her. Regardless, she looks at the driver and smiles.

“Actually… can you take me into town?”

---

The General wears a righteous scowl as he marches into town hall. This podunk village has the only phone in a one hundred mile radius and of fucking course the Führer just happens to know exactly which number needs to be dialed to harass him. And after he finds out that his horrible good-for-nothing son-in-law expected his daughter to find her own way in the world without a guardian or a school to attend or even the name of a friend…Incompetence abound, it seems.

The General aggressively picks up the phone; “Grumman.” 

“Ah, there you are, General. I assumed you’d keep me waiting longer,” Führer Bradley chuckles into the receiver.

“A man deserves a day off every now and then, wouldn’t you agree, sir?”

“I certainly do, and I expect you’ll put in for plenty of leave time once you return to Central with your granddaughter in tow.”

Grumman takes a measured breath in an attempt to not betray his surprise. “I take it that means my orders have changed, then, sir. I anticipated returning to East City.”

“I believe that raising a young girl in our beloved Capital is preferable to the volatile East, wouldn’t you agree?” A false sincerity leaks into Führer Bradley’s words.

“I agree that Central is the pinnacle of safety, sir,” Grumman answers.

“Excellent. I think we could use more like-minded thinkers like ourselves here in Central Command, General. And of course, your promotion has been a long time coming.”

He stills in response. “I see.”

“I look forward to meeting that granddaughter of yours. Hopefully she has half the patriotism that you embody. Riza sounds like a wonderful young lady.”

“Thank you, sir.” Grumman hears the Führer hang up and he slowly lowers the phone in his hand. Of course Bradley wants to meet his granddaughter; everyone and their mother wants to get their claws into her. After speaking with her, Grumman is more certain than ever that Berthold figured it out.

Flame alchemy could be the difference between winning and losing this war, and that jackass had to be a thorn in his side even in death. His men had been searching that derelict house since the wake began and there wasn’t a single clue as to how Berthold had accomplished his alchemic masterpiece. All that was left of his research was the daughter he had actively neglected.

That man had every intention of letting Riza slip between the cracks, letting her loose so that no one, not even the military, would be able to find her. The bastard would damn the girl to a life of poverty and loneliness all to protect his precious research.

Damn that man. Grumman hopes he’s burning in hell.

“General Grumman?”

“What?” he snaps at his subordinate.

“Uh- sorry, sir, but Miss Riza Hawkeye has been asking about you. She’s currently waiting for you at the station.”

Grumman power walks out of town hall and right to the train station. His granddaughter is nearly a woman now; he knows that she’s likely grown as much as she ever will, but he can’t help but think she looks particularly small and skittish as she twiddles her thumbs on a sorry excuse for a bench right by the tracks.

“Hello, my dear. I’m surprised to see you already.” He smiles at her.

She looks up at him and he is suddenly taken aback by the light in her eyes. She has Lydia’s eyes; they were Maria’s eyes before they were hers, and that thought sparks a fondness in his chest beyond measure. If she has bits of her mother and grandmother, perhaps she has bits of him within her as well. 

“I know I said I’d think on it… but I’d very much like it if I could come stay with you, General.”

Anxiety and excitement bubble to the surface of his mind; he lets out a laugh in response. “Well, Riza, if we’re going to be roommates I would much prefer it if you call me Grandpa.”

Part of him wants her to scowl at him and tell him to fuck off. He thinks he deserves that, after everything he’s done, after everything he’s had to do as a soldier… he doesn’t think he deserves a second shot at family. Moreover, he doesn’t want Bradley anywhere near her, he doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s a Hawkeye or that she’s related to him in any way.

He wants her safe; he doesn't want to drag her into his world of secrecy and war. Yet, there is a selfish part of him that wants the chance to know her. His beautiful granddaughter who carries the grace and dignity of her maternal ancestors in such a way it’s like she wears their ghosts. He wants the best for her and for the first time in his life he isn’t sure what best looks like.

“We can start with Grandfather and negotiate as I see fit.” She wears a serious expression as her hands grip at the fabric of her skirt to anchor herself.

Grumman stalls for a moment; he sees more Maria than Lydia in her intense gaze, and he can’t help but laugh.

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss. Very well, Grandfather it is.” Grumman holds out his hand to her and she shakes it with a strength he hadn’t expected.

“Do I need to buy my own ticket to get to East City?”

“Heavens no,” Grumman laughs again. “The train back leaves in the evening, do you have your things in order, dear?”

“My bag is packed at home, didn’t have much of anything to take with me, even when I thought I was going to an orphanage,” she admits with a sheepish smile.

“Well then, I’ll send one of my soldiers to go grab it and the two of us can get something to eat. How’s that sound?”

She bites her lip and glances around nervously, uncertain if she can accept such a kindness.

“Consider it my first bid to get promoted from Grandfather to Grandpa.” He winks at her, giving her permission to agree.

“I suppose I have no choice.”

“I can drive a bargain half as well as you when I please.” Grumman offers her his arm.

Despite the uncertainty of the peace between them, Grumman is without a doubt relieved that Riza accepted his offer. This is a second chance, for both of them, and he isn’t going to waste it.

“So, Riza, perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourself,” he prompts her as he flags over one of his soldiers.

“Like what?” she asks once the man is given his instructions.

“Anything you like. Hobbies, interests, what’s your favorite subject in school?”

She bites her lip nervously, “I don’t go to school… not really. Father insisted on private lessons with him.”

“And I take it you didn’t appreciate that,” he says softly.

“I-... I suppose not. I’m not sure if I would have enjoyed going to school… I like to think I would have,” she admits.

“Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. I have every intention of enrolling you in a very fine school when we get to Central.”

She cocks her head at him. “I thought you said you live in East City?”

“I split my time between both. I’d hate to brag but your grandfather here is quite important in the military.” He lies so easily that Riza doesn’t even flinch. “I typically spend my summers in the East but I recently had a reassignment to Central. Which I believe is a bit of serendipity; there’s a lovely girls academy in Central that I think would be a wonderful introduction to your school years.”

She smiles at that. She has always wanted to go to school. “Do you have a home in Central then?”

“I do indeed, I should let the staff know that we’ll be returning sooner than expected.” He opens the door to one of the only restaurants in town and gestures for her to enter before him.

“What’s the city like?” she asks with wide, innocent eyes.

“It’s beautiful really; bright, colorful, lively with people from all walks of life.” He goes into great detail about the park near his town house - how it’s filled with children and street performers on weekends, and how much he enjoys the nature path nearby. He learns she likes hunting and horses, apparently she’s been weidling guns since she was old enough to hold one, and she’s got the prettiest smile. 

She learns that her grandfather is goofy, he likes to laugh and tease her, but she also sees an edge of cunning to it. She doesn’t think he’s putting on a front for her, but she does think there’s more to him than meets the eye. He’s trying to convince her to get a little dessert when their table is approached by a pair of scientists.

“Excuse me, we hope we aren’t interrupting anything,” one of them says with a polite smile. “But we overheard you mentioning Master Hawkeye. You wouldn’t happen to be his daughter, would you?”

Riza feels a curl of unease in her chest as she nods. “I am, yes.”

“My deepest condolences, Miss Hawkeye, what a terrible thing to go through at your age,” the other says. “Might I ask how you’re faring in all this?”

“I’m coping as well as I can, thank you,” she says with a tight smile.

“And have you any place to go? Now that your father has passed on I imagine you’re in a bit of an unfortunate predicament,” he asks. The question is laced with ill-intent and it makes Riza shudder.

“While we appreciate your concern, sir, her grandfather has ensured she is more than well cared for.” Said grandfather stands from his seat; even with his height he is an imposing figure. Especially when he just barely flashes the gun strapped to his belt at them, careful to be sure that Riza doesn’t see the weapon.

The man’s eyes widen; “Oh how fortunate!”

“We are deeply relieved that you are going to be well looked after, Miss, our sincere condolences.” The other man grabs at his partner’s arm and the two of them scurry away.

“Um… grandfather?” Riza watches as Grumman continues to scowl at the retreating figures.

“Sorry, dear, I have no tolerance for their kind.” Grumman straightens his coat before taking a seat.

“Scientists you mean?” she manages to tease him.

Grumman notices the glint in her eye; she’s not unaware of the scoundrels who want to take advantage of her, then. He finds himself smiling proudly at her.

“Exactly. Blasted scientists always trying to insert themselves where they have no business being!”

“Isn’t that the point of being a scientist? To ask questions and get the answers?” She challenges him.

“Ah, right you are. Still, they make for terrible house guests. Always asking questions they shouldn’t be." He orders her a slice of pecan pie and a cup of coffee for himself when the waitress returns. He thinks she deserves it, that bright little girl who he is more anxious than ever to learn and understand.

He tells his subordinates to call the house in Central to inform them of their pending arrival. When he asks Riza if she has anyone to say goodbye to she chuckles in response.

“I don’t think anyone knows my name here, let alone anyone worth saying goodbye to.” She responds so easily it almost doesn’t break his heart to hear it.

“Is there anything you’ll miss about this place?” he asks.

She purses her lips as she thinks. “Only… only the sunsets.”

“The sunsets?”

“Yeah.” She turns towards the mountain range where, in perhaps an hour or two, the sun will dip from the sky. “At just the right angle… the sun barely slips through the mountains and there’s these beautiful streaks of color; they’re called crepuscular rays and they’re so pretty it’s like… father used to say that it was like god or mom or whatever you believe in is drawing a line between the heavens and earth.”

Grumman’s gaze is soft on her as she speaks and she recoils a bit when she notices his expression. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away. Father always said I run my mouth when I get excited. It’s unbecoming of a young lady and-”

“Perish the thought, you deserve some enthusiasm in your life and may I add that excitement is a healthy feeling. I look for it all the time,” he laughs. “Your father’s seriousness was far and away one of his worst qualities. I hope you will not allow his poor choices to affect your joy.”

Her gaze shifts to her shoes as she nods. “Well… anyway, I won’t miss much, but the sunsets are spectacular.”

“Then I suggest we find a good place to view it, wouldn’t you agree?”

She nods, glancing around for a good spot to see the phenomena. The clouds have rolled away without a deluge and the waning hour means sunset is close at hand.

“How good are you at climbing?” she asks teasingly.

“Better than I might appear,” he snickers.

She leads him to one of the more derelict buildings in the area. There’s hardly anyone walking around town - Riza explains that the earlier poor weather probably kept many people stuck in their homes. She takes him to the old market district and the pair of them climb into the decomposing loft of the old station house in the freight yard. True to his word, Grumman is more spry than his stature might suggest, though his knees crunch in such a way that he is brutally reminded of his age.

They plop down next to each other on the edge of the exposed loft; the wall has crumbled away (or perhaps it was knocked out by unruly teens looking to destroy something) and left a perfect place to overlook the town.

They have made it just in time; Riza smiles as she sees the slivers of light she described peeking through the mountains. To Grumman it’s adorably rudimentary, just some streaks of sunlight streaming across an orange sky - something he has seen thousands of times before. Then he looks at her and something stirs within him.

She looks so innocent bathed in warm light; her eyes are almost the color of a good cognac and her face is devoid of any unease or anxiety. She sits at the perfect angle for the light to bend around her head in such a way that she looks like she’s wearing a halo. For a moment, his granddaughter looks like an angel; he feels a tug in his gut to wrap her up in his arms and squeeze her to his chest.

He refrains from doing so, however, as she turns to him with an excited smile.

“See, look!” And she points towards where the light curves at the perfect angle to form a rainbow.

“Stunning,” he chuckles fondly. 

“Do they have sunsets like this in Central?” she asks, returning her gaze to the pink and orange sky.

“Not quite, they’re different but beautiful in their own way.”

A stretch of silence falls on their shoulders, Grumman glances at the girl just to be certain she’s still smiling. She is smiling but she also looks tired.

“Those men earlier… they were looking for my father’s research weren’t they?” she asks quietly.

“I believe they were, yes,” He agrees.

“At the beginning of the wake a man asked me if I had any interest in alchemy. I said no and he tried to convince me that my father’s casket had alchemic symbols on it, but I know he was lying.” She clutches at the edge of the wood beneath her. “Please be honest with me, did you come here because of my father’s research?”

Grumman holds in the devastated sigh that forms in the back of his throat. “No, dear, I didn’t.”

“You mean to tell me that the military doesn’t want flame alchemy?”

“I didn’t say that,” he says tentatively. “I have been… I wanted to meet you, Riza, long before your father died.”

“Did you really stay away because you thought he’d kill you?” she asks.

“I did.”

“You thought he’d use flame alchemy to do it?”

“I had my suspicions he might.”

“My father was a pacifist, he wouldn’t have hurt you,” she says rather confidently.

“When a man’s family is threatened they will do unspeakable things,” Grumman says quietly.

“Is that why he didn’t like you? Did you do unspeakable things?”

He wants to smile at her; she really is a clever curious little thing. “It wasn’t that, it was my position in the military he hated.”

She looks back at the bright colors of the sky - reds and pinks cascading through the heavens - she remembers the last time her father had used flame alchemy. The way the fire danced between them, how the scent of smoke filled her lungs and how bright the light had been.

“Don’t look away, Riza,” her father had demanded harshly. “Don’t look away. Remember how horrible this feels, and you aren’t even inside that flame. Imagine what that would be like, what burning alive would feel like. That would be their fate, hundreds of thousands of people’s final moments in a blaze that painful. Commit that feeling to memory, and don’t you dare ever give this secret away.”

“Did you love your father, Riza?” Grumman asks, his voice hardly above a whisper.

She takes in a stuttering breath to calm her beating heart, “no.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So if you didn’t want my father’s alchemy… did you really come for me?” The question is so timid it sounds like she is asking it against her will. Like she doesn’t want to hear the answer and it breaks Grumman’s heart to hear how meek she sounds.

“I came here because even without knowing you, I know I love you,” he says.

It’s a genuine response and it hurts her more than a rejection would have. “Then why did you leave me with him for all those years?”

“I don’t have a good answer. I wish I did. I hope… I hope you will let me atone for leaving you all this time.” He feels something thick lodge in his throat as he holds out his hand to her, waiting to see if she’ll respond in kind.

She looks at it, just barely holding back tears. “I don’t know anything, I don’t have his secrets, I won’t be useful to you.”

“I don’t care about alchemy, not one bit. You’re my family, Riza, I want to give you a home. I don’t expect anything in return for that.”

In that moment it feels like the rays of light separate them, a wall that if she so chose would remain between them. She isn’t certain he believes her lie, she isn’t certain that she should have lied at all, but he is an honest man. In so far as his proposition goes, he does want to give her a home. He did protect her against those horrible scientists from earlier.

More than anything, Riza wants to believe that she deserves a family, and where better to start than the one right in front of her?

She takes his hand and looks back towards the light; the sun is lower now, those streaks of light are weakened in the distance as a dusky purple begins to coat the mountain tops.

“Is the train ride to Central long?” She sniffs, trying to keep her tears behind her eyes.

Grumman feels relief settle in his chest. “Unfortunately yes, nearly fourteen hours, but I’ve slept in worse places than those trains. Having seen your home I’m certain you have too.”

He pulls her into his arms and pecks her forehead as she lets out a sob. There’s an unspoken sentiment in the interaction; he gives her a promise in that quiet - I will take care of you - and she responds with a smaller acceptance - I trust you - in her weeping.

Twilight truly settles on their shoulders while they sit in solemn silence, and he watches the last of those crude rays or whatever she called them fade away. He offers her a handkerchief and suggests they get to the station. She nods and helps him stand from the edge of the loft when he struggles to do it alone.

They make it just in time for their train, the two of them sitting in one of the first carts with the seats facing one another and a table between them. Grumman’s subordinates leave him with a few reports of their findings - they have apparently brought every last document in that house with them in the cargo hold.

Riza falls asleep with her cheek against the window, and Grumman is once again struck by how young she is. He’s surprised by how young and how aware she is of everyone’s bullshit. She knows she’s a valuable commodity and he hates that she is so guarded. Moreover, he hates that he couldn’t protect her from her father.

He wonders if anyone could have saved her - certainly if anyone could have it would be a General in the greatest military power on earth. He hadn’t even tried too hard when Berthold was alive to see his granddaughter. Now he sees the consequences of his own neglect; she’s timid and broken - a little girl who spent her childhood unloved and knowing she was unloved.

He doesn’t even care that she lied to him, he just wants to coddle her a bit. He’ll have to teach her how to be a bit more secretive in the future, but for now he wants to protect her. He wants more than anything to set things right and give her a future as bright as those sunsets she loves.

He isn’t sure what lies ahead for her, but he knows that no matter what happens, from now on he’ll always have him in her corner. No matter what comes.

---

Central is big, she knew it would be. While her education was not formalized she was constantly surrounded by books. She’s read about the Capital, knows all about its exports, its geography, its claims to fame - but knowing a city is home to 1.65 million souls in only 200 square miles of land is very different from seeing it with her own eyes. She knows she’s gawking at the landscape and the grandeur of the skyline, but she doesn’t care. It’s more beautiful than any text described.

Over those first few days Riza’s grandfather takes her all throughout the city showing her landmarks, parks, shops, and the school she’ll be attending in the fall. He buys her new clothes, properly fitting clothes that the housekeeper insists are very fashionable for young ladies these days; he takes her to the shooting range and glows with pride when he sees how good a shot she is; he even introduces her to his secretaries who tease him about how cute it is to see him with her.

On her fourteenth birthday he’s scheduled to attend a semi-annual military ball. He had told her she’d be alone for the evening, but the day before he had informed her that the Führer himself insisted Riza attend the event. She didn’t like the idea of attending a ball, but she wasn’t about to defy an order from the most powerful man in the country.

She wears a baby blue dress with frills and bows that she is almost completely certain her grandfather chose because it screams innocence. She thinks that wily old man knows that anyone who looks at her will see a docile child and not the daughter of the highly coveted flame alchemist.

They’ve only lived together for nine days but Riza and Grumman have figured out each other’s tune. The pair of them can harmonize in their words and actions so seamlessly it’s like they’ve known each other all their lives. 

She’s never worn anything so finely made, let alone a dress with a bustle - slim as it might be - and she feels utterly out of her depth as she plays with her gloves.

“So even soldiers have to go to balls, like in the fairytales that father said were a bunch of hogwash,” she chuckles as her grandfather settles in the car.

“Seems like it,” he chuckles back, patting her leg.

“Do you think I could be a solider one day?” she asks.

“No,” he says without missing a beat.

“Why not?” she laughs with the question.

“Ladies don’t join the military,” Grumman says.

“Colonel Armstrong is a lady and she’s in the military.”

“Colonel Armstrong doesn’t count, she’s a force of nature not a lady.”

“But she comes from nobility so she is a lady.”

“You won’t need to join the military, dearest. By the time you’re old enough to enlist there won’t be a military because we’ll have achieved world peace.” He’s teasing but he wants her to drop the subject.

She considers continuing to bait him but they are suddenly in a line of cars approaching the Führer’s home, and she’s struck with the grandeur of it all once more.

“You won’t need to worry about dancing tonight, dear, as long as you stick with me or to the sides of the ballroom you’ll be fine. We’ll leave right after dinner so we won’t be out too long.”

“It’s… beautiful,” she says, watching in awe as the lights in the presidential home flick on. Dusk is settling quickly and the warm hum of street lamps coming to light still catches her off guard. Grumman takes her hand and squeezes it, admiring the way she continues to be gobsmacked by the city. 

They are welcomed into the house and she immediately feels dwarfed by it all. There are large chandeliers and an expansive dance floor that hosts hundreds of decorated officers. It should feel crowded, there are more people in this room than the whole of her village back in the west but there’s plenty of room to mill about. 

She clings to her grandfather’s arm as he takes her over to a few of his comrades; she vaguely knows their faces though their names escape her. She knows that people are whispering about her, she just wonders what sorts of things are being said of her.

“Do you think you’ll be alright for a moment, Riza?” her grandfather asks nearly an hour into the event. “I have to take care of something, but you can go to the car if you’re uncomfortable.”

She feels a burning of nervous energy in her chest as she smiles at him. “I’ll be fine. I can’t leave before seeing the Führer, afterall.”

“I will be right back.” He squeezes her hand as he follows one of his colleagues.

She adjusts her hair briefly and then she takes a turn around the perimeter of the ballroom; she figures if she walks with enough purpose no one will try to stop her for a conversation. The room is filled with men sporting the same dress clothes with a variety of badges and ribbons adorning their lapels, and women who hang off their arms with long, gorgeous dresses that seem straight out of a fairytale. Riza is well and truly out of her element.

Then she spots a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and striking blue eyes that seems to be surveying her kingdom. She stands proudly beside a man who is not in dress attire but is instead in his military uniform. Riza smiles as she gathers her skirt and approaches the woman.

“Excuse me, are you Colonel Armstrong?” she asks, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her.

The Colonel turns to look at Riza with an appraising eye, though her gaze almost lazily rakes over her figure. The Colonel is wearing a black dress (very different from her male counterparts' full tailored suits) with a high neck and an impressive slit up her thigh. Riza wonders if the Ice Queen herself picked it or if she was handed a dress and fought every second it took to wrestle her into it.

“And who are you?” Armstrong asks, returning her gaze to the ballroom at large.

“My name is Riza Hawkeye, sir, I’ve heard so much about you and I-”

“Why are you talking to me?” she asks humorlessly.

Her abrupt question does nothing to sway Riza, however. “My grandfather says that ladies don’t become soldiers but you did. He said that you’re not a lady and if that’s true that means that soldiers are born not made. Do you agree with that?”

The Colonel glances back over at Riza, and the soldier beside the Colonel snickers. “Good soldiers are born that way. Anyone can enlist but only the strong survive.”

“My grandfather says I shouldn’t be a soldier, but I think he’s wrong.”

Armstrong chuckles but says nothing in response.

“He also says that they’ll only let women enlist if the war gets bad enough but the radio says that’s going to change too. Is that true?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a timid young lady fresh off a farm,” Armstrong notes with an edge to her tone. She’s not annoyed, at least, Riza doesn’t detect annoyance in her tone - instead she thinks Armstrong is testing her.

“Mining towns aren’t quite the same as farms, coal miners have more bite.” Riza has heard people say that before; she has no idea if it’s true but it’s a saying that feels useful to her now.

“And do you have more bite to you, Riza Hawkeye?” Armstrong asks.

“I do and it’s bound to get worse with age, grown men are always saying that about me.” Her father certainly did…

“You do a lot of listening; perhaps you’ll be better as a spy than a foot soldier.”

“The instructors at the academy say I’m a sniper in the making if I dedicate myself to it.”

“A sniper I could use,” she hums briefly before turning full on towards Riza. “When you enlist, request a posting at Briggs. Perhaps after training I’ll have a better idea how to use you.”

“Why are you recruiting at a military ball, Olivier?” Armstrong rolls her eyes as she turns to face a gargantuan man that gives Riza pause.

“Brother, it’s about time you showed up,” she groans.

“You wound me! I waited almost an hour for you before I realized you’d gone without me!” he weeps openly.

“That’s because you’re so thickheaded you didn’t take two seconds to realize I had no reason to attend with you,” she snarls in response.

“Olivier!” Before the man can go on another outlandish tirade he spots Riza standing there in awe of him. “Who’s this? Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, Miss, I am Captain Alexander Armstrong at your service.”

“My name is Riza,” she smiles sheepishly at him.

“Riza Hawkeye? General Grumman’s granddaughter?” he asks, eyes wide with realization.

“That’s right,” she nods.

“Pft, no wonder your grandfather has been spouting such tripe bullshit,” the Colonel scoffs.

“Olivier! That’s no way to talk in front of a young lady.”

“She’s not a lady, she’s a soldier.” Riza practically glows at the compliment awarded to her by Colonel Armstrong. “In any case, she should know that her grandfather is a trifling old fool who is content to play dumb so long as it gets him far enough in his career.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!”

Riza laughs out loud as the siblings quarrel; the soldier beside Olivier slips over to her side and nudges her.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he chuckles.

“I didn’t make them fight,” she insists.

“I meant to get the Colonel’s attention, she doesn’t give it out for free,” he says, smirking at her.

“I gathered as much.”

Suddenly Colonel Armstrong is clicking her heels together as is her brother.

“Führer Bradley, sir.” They salute in synch and Riza has the gnawing instinct to hide.

“At ease,” the Führer smiles brightly at the group. He looks different than Riza had imagined; sure, she’s seen his photos in newspapers, but seeing him in person is quite another thing. He’s imposing in stature but he’s got an easy smile and a gentle looking woman on his arm that softens his appearance greatly. “I hope you two are treating the birthday girl with due dignity.”

The Führer turns his smile towards Riza and she feels a shiver of nerves run up her spine. “Happy birthday, Miss Hawkeye. Remind me, how old are you turning?”

“Fourteen, sir.” She curtsies to him with all the grace she can muster. She sees the Captain stiffen, glancing sidelong toward his sister with a grimace at her answer but he says nothing in response.

“My, my, almost an adult already. Your grandfather must be devastated,” the Führer laughs.

“I should hope not considering the circumstances; it’s much easier to take on a teenager as a roommate than a child or a baby even.” She laughs conversationally. Her heart is beating loudly in her chest and her ears heat up as she tries not to panic. This man is the leader of her country and he is honest to goodness, a little goofy.

“You are absolutely charming,” the woman beside the Führer chuckles. “It’s so wonderful to meet you Miss Hawkeye, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Riza bites her lip as she sucks in a deep breath. “All good things I hope.”

“Of course, I’ve been keeping you and your family in my thoughts ever since I heard where General Grumman had run off to,” she says.

“Really?”

“I can’t imagine what you must be going through, it must have been such a relief to have your grandfather show up when he did.” The Führer’s wife takes Riza’s hands. 

Riza doesn’t remember her mother and Berthold certainly never spoke of her, but she likes to imagine that she was something like Mrs. Bradley, with a kind warm smile and the most genuine green eyes that convey just how earnestly she means her condolences. Riza is struck with the realization that no one has honestly felt sorry for the passing of her father; that kindness squeezes her throat just a touch.

“I was… it was almost like a miracle,” Riza admits quietly.

“Oh you poor dear.” Mrs. Bradley squeezes her hands.

“But I am so very happy to find myself where I am now.” Riza shakes away that sadness and manages a smile.

“If you ever need anything you come find me, alright? I’m sure this adjustment to the city has been overwhelming and - well, no matter how much we might love the men in our lives, there really is no substitute for a feminine touch.” Mrs. Bradley gives her that tender smile again and Riza finds herself nodding.

“If you don’t mind, Miss Hawkeye, the first dance is about to begin and I would be simply delighted to escort you to the floor.” The Führer holds out a hand to her.

“What a flatterer you are, dear,” Mrs. Bradley chuckles at him.

“I certainly try to be.” He looks at his wife with fondness before returning his attention to Riza, hand still outstretched.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to dance, sir.” She tries not to grimace at the idea of stepping on the Führer’s toes during a waltz.

“If you can keep a secret, Miss Hawkeye, I have two left feet. We’ll make quite a pair out there.” He laughs and she finds herself unable to refuse.

He pulls her onto the dance floor with little mind to the many gawking onlookers. The first dance is a waltz that Riza has no business partaking in. The closest she’s come to a ball before this was a small fall festival back in the west when she was barely ten years old. Even then she’d barely managed to keep up in the circle dance around the bonfire.

At least Führer Bradley is there to guide her and he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by her lack of skill.

“Tell me, Miss Hawkeye, how have you been settling in? Your grandfather has been rightly keeping himself scarce at Central Command since retrieving you, so I have heard precious little.”

Riza chuckles airily, “The city is so different from the west. I sometimes get lost on our street because all the houses look so similar. Everything’s so big and colorful… and I must sound particularly simple to you.”

He laughs jovially, “I can promise you, I never tire of hearing how beloved our capital is. Even if your arrival was under less than ideal circumstances.”

She blushes in response. “I suppose life has a funny way of happening to us sometimes; Father used to say as much.”

“I feel I should apologize for my wife bringing it up so immediately - she’s a good soul, finds herself worrying herself sick over everyone and everything. Ever since she heard about your arrival from your grandfather she’s been beside herself wondering how you’re getting on.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I admit, I have never… really had a maternal figure looking out for me. And I can tell Mrs. Bradley is so genuine… I appreciate her concern, truly.”

“I should encourage you to tell her then, I think it would make her happy to hear it.”

“Of course, sir.” Riza nearly slips as the Führer twirls her in time with the music - he had been lying about his dancing it seems.

“I hope it is not too forward of me to ask if you miss your father at all. I’m afraid I know very little about the man beyond his being your father.”

Riza can’t decide if that’s true or not - was her father important enough to have caught the Führer’s attention?

“He was a man dedicated to his research, I never really saw him much.” The truth, a story she can stick to.

“I imagine you still miss him, even if he was a less than perfect father.”

“I… I haven’t thought much of him since grandfather retrieved me.” More of the truth, a painful one, but so very real.

“I suppose reliving such a thing with an old man like me was not how you imagined your first ball,” he laughs.

“I never imagined myself to be the type to attend balls, sir. Father kept us away from… well, everyone.”

“Everyone?”

She nods. “I think he was either very shy or really didn’t like noisy neighbors.”

“Well, thankfully your own social skills didn’t suffer,” he comments kindly; the air of humor about him still remains.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I heard a little rumor that you have found your way into our training academy,” he mentions with a grin.

“You heard about that?” she chuckles.

“I did, someone mentioned a prodigy in our midst, I assume that’s why Colonel Armstrong cornered you.”

“I’m afraid it’s the other way around. I just really admire her - she’s a beautiful woman and she’s climbed the ranks of the military. Everyone respects her so much and she didn’t even have to use alchemy to do it.”

“Is that right?” he laughs.

“Well I… The Armstrong family has produced so many alchemists… but she didn’t even need that to get where she is.” She finds herself fumbling over her words as she tries not to forget herself.

“There’s nothing wrong with using alchemy,” he laughs again.

“No but… I uh-... my father seemed to believe that alchemy was the greatest tool a person could use. I never had a talent for it, he often said that it was one of his greatest failures that I wasn’t gifted in that way.” It’s a lie and she knows it - she cannot believe she’s standing here lying openly to the Führer… but why would he care if she could use alchemy? It’s not as if… not as if he too craves her father’s research.

“Alchemy is a difficult study, talent doesn’t get one very far in that field. It’s a hell of a lot of work, a pity your father didn’t see that.” He squeezes her hand as the dance finally ends. He spins her out one last time before bowing to her. “You are exquisite, Miss Hawkeye, thank you for entertaining an old man on your special day.”

“You honor me, Führer Bradley.” She curtsies as low as she’s able without toppling over.

“Let’s get you back to the General, I’m certain he’ll be cross with me for stealing you away.”

“I’m afraid he was the one leaving me, sir, I haven’t seen him in half an hour,” she admits.

“Truly? Then perhaps I should rectify that for you.”

“Oh I couldn’t impose!”

“Nonsense. My darling!” The Führer waves his wife over. “Would you watch over the young miss while I go searching for her grandfather?”

Mrs. Bradley smiles at Riza. “I would be delighted.”

The Führer passes the young girl off to his wife before walking purposefully out of the ballroom and over to his study. There he finds General Grumman sitting with his hands folded neatly on his lap.

“I hope I haven’t kept you long.” Führer Bradley says with a knowing smile.

“Of course not, sir.” Grumman salutes his superior.

“I take it you haven’t gotten the secrets of flame alchemy out of the girl.” It’s a statement from the Führer, not a question.

“Not yet, sir, these things take time,” Grumman says politely.

“Well, I just had a lovely dance with her, she is a remarkable young woman.” 

The General barely tightens his fist, frustration coursing through him as he speaks. “I am glad to hear she was a delight, I have plenty of reason to be proud of her.”

“You would be even prouder still if I were to bring her into the fold.”

“I’m not certain I understand your meaning, sir.”

“Then let me be clear, General. If you do not get her to share her secrets with you I will be forced to do it myself. None of us want that, even if our dear Riza would make a fine State Alchemist.”

Grumman pauses, considering his next words carefully. “Women are not allowed to join the military, sir.”

“Well, with the war ramping up in the East no one would bat an eye if we were to lift that ban - nor if we were to call for a draft of young people to serve their country.” The Führer’s gaze bores into the General. “I would hate to do it, but if in four years time you still haven’t managed to pry it out of her - mark my words, Grumman, I will do what must be done to protect this nation.”

“Understood, sir,” Grumman manages to respond through the fiery fury in his chest. “I will ensure that does not happen.”

“Our Riza is a good girl, I know she’ll do what’s right, in the end.” Grumman nods, barely holding back his anger as the Führer closes in on him. The Führer places a heavy hand on the General’s shoulder and that genial smile has returned to his features once more. “Now, you best be getting back to her. I’m sure Mrs. Bradley has talked her ear off by now.”

“The first lady is a treasure, sir.” The General spits out the compliment as he is led out back to the ball. He could spot Riza from a mile away; she clings to Mrs. Bradley’s arm so tightly she would look like a leech if Grumman thought her capable of cruelty.

His sweet granddaughter wears a bemused smile as Captain Armstrong regales her with some story and Mrs. Bradley fixes Riza’s hair and pats her cheek gently. When Riza sees him she nearly runs into his arms.

“Grandfather, Captain Armstrong says his little sister is attending the same academy as me, just two years behind. Do you think I could meet her before the semester starts?” she asks, cheerful and curious as ever.

His anger is gone in one fell swoop and he is instead filled with a jolt of worry looking at her. He will not, he cannot allow the military to taint that sweet smile. He cannot betray yet one more woman he is meant to protect. He will do what he has to do to save her from the horrors of war.

“I think that can be arranged. Catherine is her name, is it not?”

“Indeed! And she will be delighted to show you her piano as well, Miss Hawkeye,” Armstrong laughs heartily.

“Maybe she can help me with my piano skills, I haven’t played in years!” Riza turns back to the Captain with a gleam in her eye.

Mrs. Bradley nudges the General, smiling at him serenely. “You have the most precious granddaughter, General. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

“I do ma’am…” General Grumman glances at Riza once more, a tightness filling his chest because for just one moment she looks like Lydia. Young, spritely, curious Lydia whom he couldn’t shield from the world. “I do.”

He won’t make the same mistake twice.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,

         To render with thy precepts less

         The sum of human wretchedness,

And strengthen Man with his own mind;

But baffled as thou wert from high-

“Um, hello? Riza?” A pair of dark blue eyes stare down at her as Riza glances up from her reading.

“Oh! Hey, Rebecca! Didn’t see you there,” Riza blushes as she closes the book.

“Forgot to do your readings for Professor Dunboch?” Rebecca laughs.

“That obvious huh?” Riza shoves the text into her bag and stands up.

Rebecca fixes her with a playful glare, “You’ve spent the past three years neglecting your literature assignments - unless you mean to tell me that hell froze over, it was low hanging fruit.”

“It’s not my fault that poetry is boring,” Riza claims, adjusting her blazer as they walk from the library into the bustling halls.

“But it’s so romantic!” Rebecca claims.

“It’s so full of shit,” Riza shoots back with a snicker.

“Hey, watch it! If the Head Master hears you swearing we’ll both get in trouble,” Rebecca clings to Riza’s arm with a laugh. “I cannot get detention again, I swear if I miss latte boy a second time this week I’ll die.”

Riza rolls her eyes. “I thought you had eyes for maybe-university-guy.”

“Well, yeah him too but I only see him on weekends. Latte boy has a stable job.”

“That being your barista after school,” Riza chuckles.

“Exactly,” Rebecca sighs dreamily as they enter their homeroom.

“Hey Riza! Rebecca!” Gracia smiles at the girls as they enter, turning from the cluster of girls gathered by her desk to greet them. “Hope you’re ready for our practical anatomy test.”

“Heh, practical anatomy,” Rebecca snickers childishly.

“More than ready.” Riza elbows her friend between the ribs.

“Of course you are, hopefully you can transfer some of that confidence to the rest of us, Hawkeye.” Elizabeth leans against her desk, folding her arms as she grins.

“I wish she could, then we’d all sleep a little easier,” Gracia laughs lightly.

“Professor Grant never makes his tests that challenging and you know it.” Riza places her bag in her chair before joining the group.

“Yes because… oh what was Professor Winlace’s reasoning? Nurses don’t need to know too many of the finer details.” Jacqueline snickers as she recalls their previous professor’s uncouth assertion about young ladies being exposed to biology.

“And if we fill our heads with too many ideas how will we ever find a husband, I believe was how that statement ended.” Riza rolls her eyes with all the good humor she can muster. She’s grateful her friends also saw through the hypocrisy and sheer asininity of that line of thinking.

“It ended with him getting fired so who cares?” Rebecca snorts. “And now we have Professor Grant insisting that we actually do labs and take tests with real grades. God, why does practical anatomy have to be so hard?”

“Speaking of practical anatomy, guess who’s official with Leon!” Elizabeth shakes her shoulders excitedly.

“No way! He actually made it official!?” Rebecca gasps.

“Yep and we’re… learning how to apply certain anatomy lessons.” Her insinuation is met with a shove from Jaqueline and a round of squeals from the other girls.

“Careful not to go into too much detail, Rebecca can’t get detention again or she’ll miss latte boy,” Riza teases.

“You’re still hung up on Will?” Gracia looks at Rebecca with a sad, almost disappointed gaze.

“It’s not like he hasn’t been dropping hints!” Rebecca claims with a blush.

“Honey, he’s doing that to get tips, he’s like twenty three, he’s way too old for you,” Elizabeth says with a hint of exasperation in her tone.

“Well not all of us stumble into love, Liz. I mean shit, where else am I supposed to meet guys when I practically live here?” Rebecca asks with a huff.

“Maybe if a certain someone didn’t keep all the military recruits to herself you’d have better luck,” Elizabeth chuckles as she pokes Riza’s side. 

“I’m doing no such thing,” Riza insists.

“You’re always going to the military academy after school, couldn’t your grandpa help us organize a field trip? You know, for the troops!” Jaqueline laughs. “If not for our sake so that Rebecca can shift her gaze from the poor coffee guy.”

“Hey!”

“Besides, I’m sure she’s not going to steal your man. We are very strict about the girl code here,” Gracia needlessly reminds her.

“He’s not my man,” Riza blushes at the mention of him, even without saying his name she knows exactly who they’re talking about.

“Ugh, your grandpa still won’t let you date? You’re almost eighteen!” Elizabeth bemoans the misfortune for the umpteenth time.

“I know, he’s just protective I guess,” Riza sighs.

“But you have a big fat crush on him and it’s only ever been him right?” Gracia chides her. “That could be a good argument if you make it.”

“Not worth it, and besides it’s not like I’ll never get to date.” Riza claims, even if she wishes she had a modicum more freedom to do what she wanted and go wherever she pleased. 

She’s never begrudged her grandfather for his protective nature, even if she doesn’t understand it. She still remembers the days of being locked away from the world in her father’s decaying estate. In comparison, not being allowed to see a boy is so minor it isn’t worth mentioning - even if she’s absolutely smitten.

“You poor thing! It’s so cruel that your grandfather won’t let you go out! Even on weekends!” Rebecca throws her arms around Riza and fakes a sob.

“He could lighten up a little, you’re such a good student, you deserve a break,” Elizabeth says.

“We want to take you to the new dance hall that opened up in the garden district!” Jaqueline pouts. “It’ll be no fun without you!”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun,” Riza finally concedes and wraps her arms around Rebecca’s shoulders.

“It’s still unfair,” Rebecca huffs, squeezing her best friend’s middle one more time before releasing her.

“The least you could do is come shopping with us,” Elizabeth insists.

“Yeah, Riza, it’ll be fun - we’re planning to go after school today.” Gracia smiles gently at her.

“Uh, today?” Riza asks.

“She can’t today guys, it’s range day for her not-boyfriend and she can’t miss a chance to ogle him,” Rebecca reminds them, getting a swift slap on the shoulder in response from Riza. “Hey!”

“I- just… I can’t do anything without letting my grandfather know beforehand, that’s all.” Riza’s flush betrays her embarrassment.

“Uhuh,” Elizabeth eyes her with a chuckle.

“We can go tomorrow, just be sure to actually ask okay! We hate leaving you out.” Gracia squeezes Riza’s hand.

“We’ll see,” Riza offers a wishy-washy response. As the other girls begin to giggle and discuss the finer details of their shopping excursion. Rebecca and Gracia live on campus at the academy, slimming down their options for dress shopping on a school night. Riza bites back that nugget of jealousy as she realizes she probably won’t be allowed to join them, even if they postpone the date.

Riza is torn out of her musings when she sees the familiar blonde head of one Catherine Armstrong peering nervously into the upperclassmen’s homeroom.

“Hi Catherine! Good to see you this morning,” Riza invites the girl into their conversation.

“Good morning, Riza, I hope I’m not interrupting anything but I brought that score we were talking about earlier,” she says, shyly procuring a thickly bound book of sheet music.

“That was fast, I’m surprised you were able to find it so soon.” Riza watches the compliment pull a smile out of the otherwise wilting wallflower.

“It wasn’t too hard and you’re right that the badinerie really ties the whole suite together!” Catherine bites her lip, “I taught myself the whole thing over the weekend, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, that’s wonderful. You’ll have to help me with it during music lessons today, okay?”

Catherine’s eyes shine as she nods to her. “Of course I will!”

“Hey Catherine, your brother’s in the military right?” Gracia asks.

“Huh? Yes, why?”

“We were talking about how enlisted soldiers are easier to mess with than officers,” Elizabeth snickers.

“Mess with?” Catherine asks with a tilt of the head.

“They mean getting them to go dancing,” Riza explains.

Catherine blushes. “Who wants to go dancing anyway? I’d rather have a man who’s strong enough to throw a cow than one who can tap his toes.”

The other girls gape at her in surprise as Catherine seems to realize what she’s said.

“I-I- mean I uh-”

“You’re incredible! I love a girl who knows what she wants!” Rebecca laughs.

“Re-really?” Catherine asks.

Before Rebecca can respond the school bell rings, signifying the beginning of the day. Catherine scuttles away as Rebecca plops down in her seat, Riza turns to face the front of the classroom before their professor can find them gossiping.

Gracia leans forward on her elbows to whisper into Riza’s ear. “If you want, I could always have my dad call your grandpa. We really want to see you outside of school sometime.”

Riza smiles back at her. “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”

“Roll Call!” Professor Dunboch doesn’t even look up from her roster as she strides into class.

Riza taps her pen anxiously against her desk as the lesson begins. She has never had an interest in literature and it’s unlikely to start now that she’s entering her last year of school. That and her mind can’t help but wander to the range where she’ll have to hurry to intercept a certain State Alchemy recruit before he takes his leave for the day.

Is it utterly pathetic and undignified for her to be day dreaming about a boy who likely has no interest in her? Yes and she knows that - but he’s handsome and she’s human so she thinks she deserves a little bit of grace. She’s never met anyone like him before; he’s so passionate and sweet and driven-

“Miss Hawkeye,” Professor Dunboch’s voice snaps her out of her daydreaming. “Can you please at least pretend to be following along?”

Riza sheepishly opens her book to the correct page and focuses on her lesson. It’s a very typical Tuesday but she just can’t stop thinking about him. When lessons are over for the day she does her best not to run out of the building over to the academy - she doesn’t want to give her friends any more ammo against her than they already have.

It’s not her fault; she’s told herself that so many times inside her own head that she’s begun to believe it at least a little bit. She knows that having a crush is a perfectly normal human experience… but does it have to make her so irrational?

“Good afternoon, Miss Hawkeye,” The Sergeant on call waves at her as she enters the shooting range.

“Afternoon, I hope my grandfather hasn’t been waiting long.” She smiles at him, sweet as ever before.

“I think he got held up at Central Command, if you want to get your guns ready you know your way,” he says, none the wiser to her actual intentions.

“Thanks a bunch, have a good day.” She scurries up to the second floor where the gun lockers are and peers down at the open range where the distant sound of gunfire peppers the otherwise quiet area. It takes absolutely no time for her to spot him - Roy Mustang wielding a shotgun with as much grace as a swan gliding along a lake. She melts at the sight of him, though she does flinch when she watches the gun kick back into his shoulder. He really should know better by now…

She quickly changes into street clothes before she grabs a set of handguns and a rifle, making her way down into the lobby. She takes a long time making sure she has plenty of ammunition before Roy exits the range; his cohort are full of jokes and jests as they haphazardly begin to empty their own weapons.

Roy sees her and gives her a small smile, “Miss Hawkeye, fancy seeing you here.”

“You as well, Private Mustang.” She stands from her seat and clasps her hands behind her back.

“I hope you didn’t see me make a fool of myself out there,” he laughs sheepishly; she thinks he’s blushing and it makes her heart give an uncoordinated patter in her chest.

“You? Making a fool of yourself at the range? Say it isn’t so,” she teases.

He covers his chest with his free hand, “Ouch, you’ve wounded me.”

“Hopefully it’s not as easy as that when push comes to shove, soldier.” She laughs and she thinks she catches his smile grow just a tad.

“Well, when you enlist you’ll have to show me up - maybe even carry me to safety.” 

“Hm, I think I could carry you if I had to,” she muses.

He laughs again, “I should have known you’d rise to the occasion. You never fail to impress me.”

A very small but very loud part of her is screaming on the inside.

“Hey Roy, you taking the bus back to the dorms with us or will you be catching up later?” one of the other recruits asks, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“Uh…” Roy looks between his friend and Riza. “I should get going.”

“You should, I can’t have you getting kicked out of the military before I have the chance to beat you at your own game,” she teases, eliciting one more laugh out of him.

“Have fun with your practice, Miss Hawkeye… I… I’ll see you around.” He hurries over to his locker to begin packing his things.

Riza takes to the range and fires a few test shots, perfect every time… even with the heat in her face and the loud undeniable thudding in her chest. Why did he have to be so goddamn charming?

She’s met plenty of recruits over the years, some who ignore her completely and others who insist on making conversation - usually the inane types of conversations about the weather and the range being no place for women. But she’s never met someone like him; he’s funny and kind and he sees her in a way that most men would see as a humorous little girl who hasn’t outgrown her delusions of grandeur.

It probably helps that he was the last in a long line of potential protégés that her father took on. She remembers perhaps fifteen students coming through her father’s home to be trained in the discipline but none were as bright as Roy. And, if she was to be consulted, none were as enchanting or genuinely kind as him either. 

Roy had come to stay with them for a meager four months the year her father had died - her father found him another alchemy master to study under when his illness became too much to bear. During his stay, however, he’d always been so helpful, assisting her in keeping up the house and caring for her father. He never complained when her father was too sick to attend him and he would come to her on his own accord - asking her about alchemy and other interests of hers.

Yes, Roy had her heart, from the moment they met all those years ago to right now as she stands on the precipice of womanhood; she is certain this little infatuation isn’t going anywhere.

Before she can spiral too far down her daydreaming about that man, she spots her grandfather in the lobby shaking hands with one of the other officers. She tries not to stare but she often finds herself wondering what exactly he does in the military.

It’s no secret that her grandfather is known as a bit of an oddball, although she is well aware that the rumors about his womanizing are - in fact - a façade. It makes her question how much of his reputation truly is crafted and how much of it is an honest portrayal of himself.

Regardless, she gives him a small smile when he finally enters the range.

“You started without me!” He feigns a disappointed sigh.

“I don’t suffer tardiness,” she says with a smirk.

“Indeed you don’t, forgive me,” he bows to her.

She returns her attention to her target, firing three direct shots. He smiles as he joins her. Their little competitions are both routine and predictable; he lets her think she’ll best him and in that last round he doesn’t miss a shot.

There’s no heat behind the glare she gives him and he, in turn, smiles blissfully.

“I think you’ve improved,” he says.

“So have you,” she scoffs under her breath.

“What was that dear? These old ears don’t catch what they used to,” he teases.

“Do you know what we’re doing for dinner?” she asks, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

“Hm, let’s find out shall we?” he offers her his arm to her.

She bites her lip, planning her next move with care. “Our class ranks come out tomorrow. Professor Grant seemed to imply I’m still top of our class.”

“I expected no less from you, dear.” He pats her hand; it’s a dismissive comment but the lilt in his voice gives him away. He’s practically glowing with pride.

“Given that I’ve kept up my studies so well, I don’t think it would be untoward of me to ask for a reward.” She smiles at him.

He gives her a signature discerning look; “And what might that be?”

“Some of my friends from school are going shopping tomorrow after class. They have to be back by seven since they live on campus, can I go?”

He sighs at her, “Riza-”

“I know you don’t like me going out unsupervised but it’s just a few blocks away from school and it’s four other girls so I wouldn’t be alone,” she insists.

“I think I’ve been very clear-”

“You have and I know that but just this once could I?”

He opens the car door wordlessly, gesturing for her to get in the passenger seat. She doesn’t.

“Why don’t you spend time with Catherine? I’m more than happy to allow that,” he tries to compromise.

“I love Catherine but I have other friends too,” she says. “I’m almost eighteen and I never ask to do anything more than get tea or go to the shops. I think this is a completely fair ask.”

“I will think about it.”

“That means no.” She rolls her eyes as she climbs into the car.

“It could with an attitude like that,” he chuckles humorlessly.

As they begin to drive she fiddles with her nails. “I know you care, but could you at least tell me why?”

He can’t, is the problem, not without explaining very sensitive government secrets.

“Can you tell me why you want to go shopping with your friends? If you need something, Mrs. Baird would be happy to take you.”

“It’s not like I need anything, I just… I want to spend time outside of school with my friends. You know Rebecca and Gracia wouldn’t make me do anything bad.”

“I’m not worried about you or your behavior, sweetheart, I’m worried about the world,” he says with a sigh. “Let me think on it, okay?”

Riza looks out the window in silence, a quiet acquiescence. She does understand, at least in part, that the city is not the safest place on earth - especially for a young lady with ties to a high ranking military official. But going out in the daytime in the same district as her school with a group of young ladies is hardly an unsafe activity insofar as she is aware.

Grumman watches his granddaughter thoughtfully pour over her home assignments with a grimace. It’s not like she knows that the Führer has eyes everywhere and that he has been watching her with keen interest since her arrival to Central nearly four years ago.

Living with his granddaughter has been a gift; watching her grow and blossom has been nothing short of a joy. He is also acutely aware of how fragile her peace is now that she’s older. Bradley is getting impatient, and frankly, so is Grumman if he’s honest. He doesn’t know why Riza has kept so quiet about her father’s secrets but it hurts. It hurts that she doesn’t trust him with those secrets and it hurts that she is right to keep it from him; because he would use Flame Alchemy to further his career, even if she begged him not to.

There has to be something, some way he can gain her trust… or better yet, find another way to get her opening up…

“Grandfather?” Riza has a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Dinner’s ready, did you hear Mrs. Baird?”

He puts down his book and pats her hand, “Thank you, dear.”

“Are you okay?” she asks as he stands from his chair.

“Just fine… thinking is all, Grandpa has a very difficult job you know,” he teases.

“I’m sure I would, if I was allowed to hear about it,” she shoots back with a laugh.

“I could recite you figures from my most recent enlistment project,” he offers.

“Only if I get to explain the makeup of a complex organism.” 

He laughs, “I think you should save that for your school friends.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing, I’ve thought it over. You can go with your friends tomorrow.”

She pauses just as she’s about to take her seat. “You mean it?”

“You’re right, Riza dear, you’re more grown up than I want to admit. I trust you.”

She positively melts under the praise. “Thank you, Grandpa.”

His heart swells knowing how sparingly she uses the term. “You’re to be home no later than 7:30, not a second after.”

“I promise,” she chuckles.

After dinner Riza hurries to practice the piano and he enlists a few of his subordinates for a little incognito mission. It’s been a while since he’s worn a dress, it might be time to return to old habits.

---

Riza is simply happy to be out with her friends - who cares if it’s a Wednesday. Rebecca had practically cried when she said she’d go with them, not to mention Gracia who gave her the biggest hug. Rebecca is trying on a cream dress with yellow ribbons and a bolero to match, spinning to test out the float of the skirt.

“It’s very you.” Elizabeth hangs off of Riza’s shoulders as she examines Rebecca in the dress.

“You don’t think it’s too cutesy?” Rebecca shucks off the bolero to get a feel for the look without.

“Definitely not,” Riza chuckles.

“You’re going to get all the boys asking you to dance and there won’t be anyone left for us!” Gracia calls over her shoulder from one of the nearby racks.

“You guys are too nice,” Rebecca blushes as she returns to the changing room.

“Me next! I found that pink number I haven’t stopped thinking about since the last time!” Jacqueline appears in a beautiful pink dress with sheer puff sleeves and a pleated skirt.

“Why try it on again if you know you’re getting it then?” Elizabeth asks.

“So Riza can see it, duh.” Jaqueline fluffs the skirt absentmindedly as she looks to Riza. “So?”

“Beautiful,” Riza nods her approval.

“Isn’t she just?” Gracia chuckles, looking fondly at her friends. “I’m so glad you could come, Riza, they actually listen to your opinions.”

“Not her fault that you’re so nice people don’t take your compliments seriously,” Rebecca snorts as she exits her changing room, a stack of dresses in hand.

“I think being nice is one of your best qualities because it’s genuine.” Riza tells Gracia when she pouts in response, holding out her hands to take some of the dresses Rebecca had rejected.

“This is why we need you to come out with us for a whole evening next!” Elizabeth insists.

“I’m not sure pushing my luck so soon will work out for me in the long run,” Riza sighs.

“Never know unless you try,” Elizabeth eggs her on.

“Yeah, maybe your grandfather will be more inclined to let you come out if you prove how wonderful and responsible you are,” Gracia chimes in.

“Or if we prove how incredible we are as friends, he’ll be more willing to let us be her chaperones,” Rebecca teases, hanging one of her many rejects back up.

“We’re perfect chaperones, we could totally swing it.” Jaqueline emerges with her pink dress firmly in hand.

“We could start with dinners and work our way up to dance halls and lounges, maybe by the time you’re eighteen we can get you to a bar,” Elizabeth laughs.

“What do you think, Riza, would your grandfather let us take you to a bar?” Gracia asks.

Riza is no longer paying attention because she’s caught sight of one Roy Mustang in civilian clothes standing outside a coffee shop with another man. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest as she leans against the clothing rack.

“Um, hello? Riza?” Rebecca waves a hand in front of her friend.

“Hm?”

“Whatcha looking at?” she sing-songs, trying to figure out what captured Riza’s eye.

“It’s nothing.” Riza’s laugh is a bit too forced.

“Oh come on, what is it?”

“Or who is it?” Gracia teases.

Jaqueline gasps as she hurries to the window, “Which one is he?”

“No one! It’s nothing, I just got distracted,” Riza blushes furiously as she puts away the rest of the dresses.

“Is it alchemy guy?” Elizabeth asks and grins wickedly at Riza’s reddened cheeks. “Oh my god, which one is he!?”

“Shut up!” Riza hisses as the other girls crowd the window.

“Oh my god you have to go talk to him.”

“I can’t!” Riza insists. “I told my grandfather-”

“Who cares? It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong! Hey, why don’t I go with you and we can ‘get some tea,’ it’ll be so casual and so fast.” Rebecca is already tugging at Riza’s sleeve.

“Aren’t you buying a dress?” Riza asks.

“I’ve got it girl, go get us some drinks,” Elizabeth all but shoves Riza out of the store with Rebecca dragging her across the street.

Riza is fairly certain this can’t get any worse when Roy makes full eye contact with her and her insides turn to liquid.

“Miss Hawkeye, what a surprise,” he waves at her.

“Private Mustang,” she chuckles nervously. “What are… you aren’t in… funny seeing you out in the wild.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he gives a good natured smile.

“I’m surprised you’re not in the barracks.”

“They let us out once a week, less than the canine units but better than nothing,” he teases and she snorts in response.

“Well I hope you’re enjoying your walk around town - I’d hate to take up your free time with nonsense.”

“Miss Hawkeye I’m not certain you are capable of nonsense.” Her heart seizes in her chest as he flashes her another smile. “Can I grab you something to drink?”

“Uh- no, heh, I’m out with friends and we’re you know… the girls are shopping and I’m supervising.”

“As is your duty, soldier,” he chuckles. When he tilts his head back like that his jawline looks so sharp and his hair falls so perfectly-

She smooths down her bun so she can do something with her hands instead of focusing on his stupid handsome face. “I hope you’re enjoying your hour of sunshine and fresh air before they lock you back up in the barracks, Private. I know I am.”

“I don’t envy your fate, you know. Girls school sounds more vicious and harrowing than the military. I’d take the barracks over homeroom any day.”

“Says the State Alchemist hopeful. You’re in a glorified boarding school of your own, you know,” she teases.

“Don’t be right, I hate it when you’re right,” he snickers.

“I hope your alchemical studies don’t prove too challenging, though I imagine for you they never are.”

His eyes shine with mirth upon receiving the compliment. “Your faith in me and my abilities is going to keep me going in the program.”

“Just don’t expect me to say the same of your shooting abilities - I’d hate to have to lie to you.”

The laugh that falls out of his lips is a mix of a snort and a cackle. “Never change, Hawkeye.”

“I don’t plan to,” she beams at him.

The man next to Roy nudges him and he seems to come back to earth. “Right, we should go.”

“Not what I meant. I’m Private Hughes, Mustang’s bunk mate, you can call me Maes!” Hughes holds out a hand to Riza.

“It’s nice to meet you Private,” she shakes his hand.

“Good luck trying to get her to call you by your first name, she’s got too much military in her blood for that,” Roy chuckles.

“Oh-... Oh! You’re the one the guys are always talking about, huh? The General’s daughter with a wicked good shot.”

“Granddaughter but yes that’s me,” Riza blushes.

“Wow, rumor has it you’re a bit of an ice queen.” Maes says, though by the look in his eye he didn’t mean to. 

Roy elbows him between the ribs, “What the hell, jackass?”

Riza laughs, “I’ve heard that plenty of times over the years, honestly I’m flattered. Whether they mean to or not, they’re comparing me to General Armstrong and I’d never say no to that.”

“You’re too kind, Miss Hawkeye.” Roy rubs a nervous hand behind his neck. “I-... you wouldn’t happen to… heh… um…”

“Yes?” She asks, trying to bury the bubbling nervous energy inside of her as deep as she can.

“You’ll uh-... you’ll be at the range tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Oh, yes of course.”

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

“Definitely, it was good to see you. I should get back to my friends.” She hurries into the coffee shop with her cheeks ablaze and her heart roaring in her ears. Rebecca smirks at her as she joins Riza in line.

“Don’t say it,” Riza groans.

“You really do have it bad,” Rebecca giggles.

“Shut it, I’m a disaster.”

“It’s so sweet and he’s clearly so smitten back!” Rebecca tugs on Riza’s arm.

“No way, he couldn’t get away from me faster.”

“Are you kidding? If his stupid friend hadn’t interrupted he would have totally asked you out!”

“No he wouldn’t have, and besides I’m trying to be less brain dead when I talk to him so I don’t need you putting ideas in my head.”

“You didn’t even introduce me to him,” Rebecca points out. Riza’s jaw drops as she realizes that’s absolutely true… oops. “You’ve got it bad and that’s okay! He’s so handsome and he’s charming too.”

“I know,” Riza groans, approaching the counter to order for their friends.

“So when you see him at the range you’re going to say yes when he asks you out, right?”

“My grandfather would never let me go on a date, especially not with a freshly enlisted soldier,” she claims, aggressively stirring her latte.

“Well then it’s either time to work some magic… or you could always tell him you’ve got to stay late studying for tests and shit. I would absolutely cover for you!”

Riza glares at her friend. “You’re not helping.”

“Yes I am, you just don’t want to take a risk.”

Rize bites her lip in thought as the other girls pour into the shop.

“Oh my god Riza! He’s so cute!” Elizabeth gushes.

“Yeah, I think we all need to take up shooting if that’s where men like him are hiding,” Jaqueline chuckles.

“What’s his name anyway?” Gracia asks.

“Mustang’s the last name apparently.” Rebecca hands off a lavender tea to Elizabeth.

“Aw! Riza Mustang has a nice ring to it!” Elizabeth laughs.

“Shut up!” Riza blushes as if she hasn’t had the exact same thought over the years.

“I think it’s sweet, you certainly are taken with him. It shows in the way you carry yourself.” Gracia lifts her cup to Riza for an impromptu toast.

Riza clanks her cup against hers. “I can’t afford to think like that when I’m not even sure if my grandfather will ever let me date. Let alone him.”

“Well let's brainstorm strategies on how to convince the old man to let you date. I read a book on this once.” Rebecca guides the girls to an empty table for them to debrief.

Riza has a feeling this is a bad idea but that clawing desperation to at least attempt to date Roy is far too great within her. God… could she maybe have a shot with someone like him?

---

General Grumman finds himself in his office musing over the notes he took from his granddaughter’s day out. A wig is haphazardly thrown next to Roy Mustang’s open file on his desk as he tries his damnedest to come up with an excuse, any excuse to keep her away from the new recruit. He hates the idea of her dating an alchemist, especially after Lydia’s experience. He hates the idea of her potentially marrying an alchemist, he hates the idea of her getting further involved in the military. More than anything, he hates the idea of her opening up to some man that’s not him.

But he’s tried for years to get her to tell him those secrets with no success - there’s no saying this Mustang character will weasel them out of her either… but it might just be his last shot.

---

“For a guy who hates playing wingman, you need one desperately ,” Maes says as soon as they’re loaded onto the bus heading back to the academy barracks after a full evening out.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Roy asks.

“It means you’ve got it bad for Miss Hawkeye, that’s what.” Maes slaps his bunkmate’s shoulder.

Roy opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out, “Well… I-... shut up.”

“Uhuh,” Maes snickers at him. “Why didn’t you ask her out? I know you were leading into that.”

“Because… I’m busy?” Roy isn’t sure why that’s his go-to argument but it’s better than nothing… probably.

“Okay,” Maes isn’t convinced.

“Look man, it’s not that easy okay she’s… she’s untouchable.”

“Is she? She was right in front of your face like half an hour ago.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that I’m sure she has better things to do than hang out with some… recruit.” He shrugs.

“Have you asked?” Roy glares at Maes because he knows the answer to that question.

Of course he hasn’t asked, how could he? She is Riza Hawkeye, a girl so beautiful and effortlessly true to herself that Roy is nearly blinded by her light. And he is… Roy… just Roy - an alchemist in the making, sure, but he’s nothing special. Not really. Not compared to her.

When he first met her all those years ago she’d been so sad and lonely - he’d been grateful for her companionship because he was also cripplingly lonely on her father’s estate. She was a welcome friend when Master Hawkeye was too sick or too callous to pay him any mind. She always had a game to play or a book to read with him. She made excellent tea and an even better listener because she not only heard him but understood exactly what he was going through being away from home.

He’d felt so guilty the day he left her alone with her sickly father. He’d written her a few times but the letters between them never really amounted to much. Her father was too ill and he was too busy with his new alchemy master to keep in touch.

Now she’s a woman and so much more beautiful than he remembered her being; he almost didn’t recognize her when they reconnected a month into his training. She approached him, all smiles and a gentle, ‘Roy Mustang is that you?’ that made his brain stop working altogether as he took her in. She’d always been a cute kid, but now… now she’s nothing short of gorgeous.

“Look, I’ve been watching you pine after her for the past six months, either nut up and ask her out or move on. I can’t take it anymore, watching you two tiptoe around each other is agony,” Maes complains.

“Oh yeah!? You’re one to talk, you go through a break up once a week!” Roy shoots back.

“How dare you! I’m just trying to find the one!” Maes’ eyes well up with tears at the accusation.

“You scare off every woman you meet because you ask them how many kids they want!”

“I’ve only done that four times!”

“Here we go,” Roy snickers in order to hide his own nerves and frustrations. The truth is he does want to ask Riza on a date, he desperately wants to take her to dinner or dancing he just can’t bring himself to ask. If she wasn’t untouchable as his master’s daughter, she was untouchable as General Grumman’s granddaughter. Beyond that… she’s just too good for him, frankly.

Maes continues to wallow, opining about how difficult it is to find ‘the one’ and how he just wants to settle down with a wife already. Roy can’t deny that marriage doesn’t sound half bad… the problem is he really only has eyes for one person. One person who is not exactly on his level…

When he returns to his bunk he pulls out his alchemy books and picks up where he left off. He’s got a long list of exams ahead of him in the next six months, leaving out the additional four to five months of special ops training. He knew that enlisting in the military would require a lot of work, but to be wholly honest, he didn’t anticipate so much of his time being spent on paperwork.

Master Johanson had made it seem like most of the exams would be of a practical nature. Especially since he had placed well in the pre-screening for State Alchemists, thing is the military seems to… not give a fuck about that.

“Hughes, if you’ve got a minute could you quiz me?” Roy asks, holding out one of his many textbooks to his friend.

“Fine but you know I don’t get any of this stuff.” Maes takes the book and grimaces at the page.

“It’s fine I just need you to guide me through this last chapter.”

Maes groans as he reads the text. “Please tell me this doesn’t mean you’ll come back to the bunk smelling like sulfur again. It was bad enough the first time.”

“We’re done with that unit, don’t worry. Although, you’ve come back to the bunk smelling of worse things,” Roy teases.

“If I recall correctly I was the one holding your hair back while you puked in the shower,” Maes snickers over the book.

“That was one time!”

“One time is all it takes!”

“Private Mustang, you’ve got orders.”A soldier from central seems to have appeared beside his bunk, causing Roy to fumble with a salute. The soldier holds back an eye roll as he hands off the note and walks briskly out of the dorm.

“Orders? Did you get in trouble with the Drill Sergeant?” One of the guys on an adjacent bunk asks.

“I don’t think so.” Roy opens the note and feels his mouth run dry.

At eight hundred hours tomorrow morning, he’s been summoned to General Grumman’s office for a private conversation. Discretion is highly encouraged.

He is so many levels of screwed now.

Notes:

Chapter 2 is here! Hope you enjoyed it ~ I love writing Riza as a teenage girl before the horrors and there will be horrors but for now baby girl gets to live lol

Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Roy Mustang does not consider himself to be anything less than an upstanding guy. His aunt would castrate him if he wasn’t a complete gentleman - but he is trembling as he waits for General Grumman to arrive. It is seven hundred thirty hours and he cannot even begin to fathom why he received orders for a meeting with a whole ass general. 

He didn’t tell Maes, though he did flick open the letter at just the right angle that he knew his friend could read it. The gasp Maes gave in response went unaddressed by the pair as they hurried to bed that night. What was there to say?

Though his friend did insist on skipping breakfast to accompany Roy to the gallows. Maes is waiting outside to collect his corpse or shit stained pants or whatever the fuck happens next… Hughes is a good guy; Roy should leave him something in his will.

Theatrics aside, he’s pretty certain he is headed into the scolding of a lifetime. If he’s lucky Grumman won’t kick him out of the military entirely…

“Ah you’re here early,” Grumman chuckles as he spots the nervous young man snap to attention.

“Yes sir,” he salutes, fighting the nest of nerves that has gathered in his throat.

“Oh none of that boy, come in come in,” Grumman gives a flippant chuckle as he opens his office door for Roy.

This is worse, somehow geniality is worse in every way than yelling. 

“Thank you, sir,” Roy ducks into the room, hoping that none of the other officers are suspicious.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? These little pastries are my favorite.” Grumman plucks a tiny pink cake from a cake stand and pops it in his mouth before offering the dish to Roy.

“Uh-... n-no thank you, sir.”

“More for me.” Grumman places the cakes on top of a precarious stack of notes. “So, Mustang, is it?”

A beat of silence; Roy fumbles to nod when he realizes it’s a genuine question. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you play chess, Private?” Grumman asks between bites.

“I-... I do,” he responds, trying not to let his eyebrow twitch in confusion.

“Good, I like to do something while I talk.” He scoots over to a chess board that Roy is only just now noticing. The game is half played; the side Grumman takes up still has both rooks, its queen, a few pawns, and a bishop while the opposing side has its knights, a rook, a bishop, and nearly all of its pawns.

Roy is so deeply confused that he takes a seat without changing his expression. This is General Grumman? Hardened war veteran and the only sitting General who can go toe to toe with Führer Bradley?

“Your move first, Private, I’d hate to be an improper host.” He gives a laugh that can only be described as chipper. He’s fucking chipper .

Roy moves one of his pawns thoughtlessly as he tries to calm the rapid, anxious thumping of his heart against his ribs.

“So, I hear that you’re a particularly talented alchemical student. Is that right?” Grumman asks, sipping his coffee as he moves his bishop to take the pawn Roy just moved.

“I am in training for the State Alchemy program, yes.” Roy nods wordlessly, capturing the bishop with his knight.

“The way your trainers talk they seem hopeful that you’re going to be a shining star one day.”

The compliment is not barbed in anyway but his chest tightens as if he’s been kicked. “That’s very kind of them to say.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I’m not certain that immediate skill is enough to go by. Alchemy takes years of dedication to achieve great success.” Roy moves his next piece, focusing on the board instead of his superior.

“Hm, I suppose you’re right. Did your master tell you that?”

“Drilled it into my head, more like,” Roy manages a laugh.

“Berthold was always a man with a hammer,” Grumman says, examining the board more thoroughly.

“Pardon?” Roy asks.

“Oh, my apologies, I forgot you didn’t put that in your file,” Grumman chuckles.

“I-... I only omitted it because I spent less than half a year with Master Hawkeye and really, we barely got through the basics. He was so sick that I didn’t get much of a chance to study with him.” Roy feels the creeping heat of embarrassment rising up his neck.

“I don’t blame you, the old cad is better left to the footnotes of research papers.” Grumman moves his queen to capture Roy’s bishop.

Roy has nothing to say to that, turning his attention back to the game.

“Have you picked a specialty for your Alchemy yet?” Grumman asks, watching Roy piece together a plan for his rook.

“Not yet sir, don’t want to put the cart before the horse,” he laughs breathily as he takes a pawn off the board.

“Indeed,” Grumman hums as he moves his queen into position. “Tell me something Private, what do you go over in your sixth month of alchemy training? I’ve never been myself, you see, I find myself quite curious.”

“Well currently we’re coming out of our basic lessons and moving into the reconstruction phase of the process with an emphasis on altering temperature and shape.”

“Fascinating.” Grumman’s queen takes Roy’s knight. “Have you been learning your history to go along with that?”

“Of course sir.”

“Including alchemical advances within the military?”

“Yes, sir.” Roy takes the last of Grumman’s pawns off the board.

“So I take it you heard about the Lampad Project then.” Grumman moves his queen out of range for Roy’s knight.

“I’m afraid I’m only vaguely familiar with it, the project was shut down, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed, shut down because they concluded that flame alchemy was impossible.” Grumman’s queen takes Roy’s rook.

Roy flicks up his gaze at Grumman, “That’s not what’s in the textbooks.”

“No? My mistake.” Grumman steals another tiny cake and chuckles. “Forgive an old man for splitting his attention, Private, my granddaughter likes to keep me on the straight and narrow with my diet. Have to get my indulgences when and where I can.”

Roy’s pawn advances on Grumman’s king. “The Lampad Project was a long shot. My master told me that fire is one of the four elements but it can only be created, not destroyed. That was their problem.”

“Really?” Grumman asks, licking a bit of frosting off of his thumb. “That’s not what I heard - I heard they couldn’t even get a spark without a match. Which defeats the whole purpose, does it not? Wasn’t the whole point to create flame out of nothing?”

“Nothing can come from nothing,” Roy says.

“I think that’s untrue, at least in part; some of our most powerful allies come out of nowhere.” Grumman’s queen puts Roy in check and suddenly Roy puts together where exactly this is going.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Roy says almost defensively.

Grumman leans back in his seat. “So you know something.”

“I… know as most do that Master Hawkeye spent his life focusing on flame alchemy - he was never successful.”

“You’re wrong there, Private, he was successful,” Grumman tells him, watching the boy with keen interest. “And I know that, since your first instinct was to defend my granddaughter, you know that she’s the key to all of this.”

Roy looks away from the General, ashamed at how quickly he let himself slip up.

“I propose a truce; seeing as you are not a complete idiot, you might prove useful to my own agenda.” Roy holds back a grimace as Grumman plucks his queen off the board and holds it out to him. 

Roy takes the piece and looks it over. “What agenda is that?”

“I have been given a strict timeline to discover the key to flame alchemy or my granddaughter’s life is forfeit. You have my permission to do whatever is necessary to get that information out of her - short of causing her physical harm.”

“Sir?”

“Make no mistake, I am deeply unhappy with this arrangement, but I will not let any man or government touch her. Do I make myself clear?”

“What exactly are you asking me to do?” Roy stands from the chess board.

“Use your imagination - I hear there’s a nice dance hall opening up and girls like to dance. What I’m saying Private Mustang is you can either woo my granddaughter or you can look for a new line of employment.”

If Roy thought he was fucked before he’s been left for dead on the wrong side of the tracks now.

“You want me to… date your granddaughter,” Roy cannot believe this is how his Thursday is starting.

Grumman scowls at him, “I don’t want you to date her, I need you to get her to trust you enough that she willingly gives you her father’s secrets.”

“And you know she has them?”

“I am certain she does.”

“But she didn’t share them with you?”

He glares at Roy again, “Do we have an understanding, Private?”

Roy wants to say no, he doesn’t want to trick Riza into giving him anything. “What do you mean her life is forfeit?”

“I am not so delusional as to think that there would be no retribution for my inability to get this information. I believe the Führer would not hesitate to open the military to women just to send her to the frontlines.”

Roy’s chest tightens at that. “But… but she-”

“Drafts are a powerful thing, Private.”

Roy refuses to believe that Riza’s life is in danger; she’s so young there’s no way… there’s simply no way that the Führer would be so cruel as that.

“I would not ask for help if I had other options.”

Grumman looks so serious that Roy clutches the queen in his hand until the notches in the enamel pinch his skin.

“I’ll… I make no promises. Riza- Miss Hawkeye is an exceptionally strong willed young woman. I doubt I could… if she wants to hold onto those secrets she’d throw away her life for them, I’m certain,” Roy answers.

“We won’t find out,” Grumman huffs. “That’s all, Private, return to your duties.”

“Sir,” Roy salutes. He nearly collapses once he rounds the corner of the long stretching hallway, his legs are like jelly and his head is spinning. Did Grumman really just tell him to date his granddaughter? He was expecting something more in line with stay the fuck away from her or you’ll be sorry not… this.

Roy knew Master Hawkeye was working on flame alchemy, of course he did. He’d even managed to help in decoding some of the easier cipher’s Master Hawkeye had collected over the years. It was worrying, if not a little haunting being reminded of those days back at the Hawkeye estate.

Berthold was never outwardly unkind but he was brusque, he had high expectations and low tolerance for inadequacy. Roy owed him a lot, especially when he found Master Johanes to train him in his stead… but to think that he accomplished the impossible…

“Roy!” Hughes is still waiting outside, just as promised. “Are you okay? Do you need me to hold your bangs back again? You look a little green.”

“I… I think… I don’t know what the fuck just happened but we should probably not talk about it here.”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh you know, fate of the world hanging on my shoulders and all that.” He huffs a laugh as Maes loads him up on a bus.

“Um… what the fuck?”

“How about my aunt’s place after training today?” Roy asks.

“Yeah, sure… I think I can do that.”

Roy claps Hughes’ shoulder. “I have no idea what I’m doing… but I think… I think either way I’m in some deep shit.”

---

Riza is still buzzing after talking to Roy yesterday. Has she allowed her friends to feed into her delusions? Absolutely. Does she care? Marginally. She’s got herself all tied up in knots thinking about seeing him again so soon. Twice a week is more than enough to set her heart on fire, three times and she might suffocate from it. 

It has been exceedingly difficult for her to focus on her lessons, which is as embarrassing as it sounds. She keeps looking at the clock and willing it to move just a bit faster so she can see him already. Her friends lean into her anxiety and give her knowing glances over their textbooks.

She wants to tell them to stop looking at her, she wants to tell them to stop teasing her with smirks and grins. Professor Grant does call for Elizabeth to pay better attention to the lesson so at least there’s that.

Once that final bell rings she all but sprints out of the building and down towards the range. With her fingers and toes still tingling, she throws herself into the gun locker and scans the line of soldiers. There he is, perfect and handsome as ever before. They’re just about to finish training and she is full of butterflies as she returns to her post by the door.

She doesn’t even pretend to wipe down her guns or count her ammo, she’s so distracted she can’t focus. The group of recruits walk into the lobby jesting and joking as they put away their gear. Riza steels herself as she approaches Roy.

“Hi again, Private Mustang,” she greets with a lilted laugh to cover her nerves.

“Ah… Miss Hawkeye, good to see you.” He gives her a tight smile.

“I see you’re getting better with that handgun.”

“Wow, such a well timed compliment, I was beginning to think I was hopeless,” he laughs.

“Hopeless is a word for it,” she teases.

He pauses; he doesn’t say anything as he takes her in. Her black turtleneck and cargo pants make her look more mature than the school uniform he’d seen her in yesterday. She looks more at home here, more comfortable, and he reminds himself that she was never comfortable in her father’s home. 

She always shone the brightest in the trees and by the lake - she loved racing and swimming. She didn’t like to play pretend, she was more methodical and down to earth. He’s always admired that about her.

“Um… Private Mustang?” Riza asks.

He snaps back into reality, “Sorry, what?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, of course, I was just…” he takes in a shaky breath. “I was wondering if you were interested… I mean if you uh-... Do you… Are you doing anything Saturday?”

Her heart smacks against the enclosure of her ribs, “Saturday?”

“I-... some of the guys are going to a dance hall in the garden district and I was… wondering if… if you were… well if you’re… I’ll be there all night, if you happen to be there… maybe we could dance… together.”

“I-...” Her voice is impossibly small. “I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“I’ll have to ask for permission to go… grandfather doesn’t like to let me go out too much but… I… if I can I’d… I’d appreciate it if you’d save a dance for me.” 

Her face is red and Roy feels a mixture of glee and guilt settling in his stomach. “I hope to see you there, Miss Hawkeye.”

“You-... you can call me Riza, you know.”

He nods, “Riza… I hope to see you there.”

“I hope to be there,” she sighs as he gathers his things.

She throws herself into her training because it’s the only thing that’s going to keep her from screaming. Because he likes her, he actually genuinely likes her and she’s so convinced she won’t get to go dancing with him it is rattling her to her core. The idea of him standing in a dance hall waiting for her all night and struck with the disappointment of her leaving him there is enough to drown her.

She doesn’t even notice when her grandfather enters the range until she’s emptied the magazine of her handgun and she turns to retrieve the next.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks.

“Nothing is wrong,” she claims, procuring another gun.

“I know that look, your mother wore the same one when she was cross with me.”

She looks up at him with a smirk. “I’m not upset, I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“Gracia and Elizabeth really want to take me dancing this weekend but I know how you feel about me being out on weekends - especially in the evening,” she says.

“You hated your dancing lessons and now that’s how you want to spend your weekends?” he asks with a laugh.

“I didn’t hate it,” she claims weakly.

“I’m fairly certain you did, you told me as much anyway.”

“Well, I had to do it for school then.”

“And now you’re asking me to go out a second time this week?” He raises a brow at her.

“I just… I don’t know, I’m sure you think it’s silly and childish, but I want to be a little silly and childish before it’s too late.”

Grumman cackles, “My dear, it’s never too late.”

“That’s because you’re a man and you have a career, I’m going to have to grow up one day.” she points out, looking down at the gun in her hand. 

He places his hand over hers, “You… you grew up right in front of me, didn’t you?”

“I-... I mean, I was pretty grown by the time we met,” Riza says nervously.

“I suppose you were, but I wish… I wish you were still a little girl sometimes. I guess I wish I’d had the chance to know you when you were small.”

She chuckles quietly, “I was much more shy… more of a crybaby too.”

“I think… I think you grew up too fast, but grown up you have.” He pats her cheek, eyes shining with emotion she’s never seen before. “You be home by eleven, alright? If you’re so much as a second late I will send special ops to go get you.”

“Thank you!” She hugs him, trying her best to contain her elation.

“Let’s go home, hm? I presume you’ll need to talk to Mrs. Baird about getting a dress.”

Riza does not talk to the housekeeper when she gets home, instead she runs to her room and grabs her phone.

“Astor House.”

“Is Gracia there?” she asks the RA before biting her thumb to keep her emotions in place for however long it takes for the phone to get passed along.

“Hello?”

Riza screeches because she cannot for the life of her contain it anymore.

“HELLO!?!?” Gracia calls back in a panic.

“Sorry! It’s Riza! I! I! You will never guess what just happened!”

“Are you safe? Is this a good scream??”

“My grandpa said I can go out with you guys this weekend.”

“Oh my god! Yes, I’m so excited!” Gracia gasps.

“And… And Roy said he’s going too!”

“No way!”

“Yes!”

The two devolve into squeals and gleeful giggling as Riza tries to figure out what she’ll wear. Grumman stands just outside the room, not even needing to hear the other end of the call to know just how enthusiastic Gracia is about their plans. His heart aches a little, both with guilt and that bittersweet delight that comes from parenthood.

He hopes he’s made the right choice.

---

Roy has his face squashed into his Aunt’s desk, having just spilled his guts to his best friend and Aunt Chris herself. Aunt Chris holds a cigarette between her fingers which are placed just between her eyes, a grimace plain on her face. Maes has not collected his jaw off the floor yet, Roy wonders if he ever will.

“So, let me get this straight - you, Roy Mustang, are going to be using this poor girl to unlock the secrets of impossible alchemy so that you won’t lose your job?” Chris asks, narrowing her gaze at him.

“I guess so.”

“Do you want advice?”

“Yes.”

“Quit your fucking job!” Chris pounds the table with her fist, startling both boys into sitting upright. “I didn’t want you joining the military to begin with and now you’re seeing how rotten those bastards are!”

Roy grimaces at her. “You work with Grumman all the time!”

“I don’t answer to those pigs, Roy, you sold your soul to them in record time!”

“What did you want me to do? It's not like there are a whole lot of options for non military employment!”

“Literally anything else!”

“Can we just calm down a bit?” Hughes asks in a withering, high pitched voice.

Chris takes a drag of her cigarette as Roy rubs his face. “I don’t want to use her, I don’t intend to use her… I just… I just need to think.”

“While you’re thinking that girl is out there believing you might be the love of her life.”

“I just asked her to dance and she didn’t even say yes,” Roy claims with a blush.

“I raised you better than this Roy-Boy,” she shakes her head at him.

“I-... I can fix this, I know it.” Roy clutches his fist a little tighter.

There’s a knock at the door and Aunt Chris gives a sigh. “Look, sit on this for a bit, but there’s always a bed for you here - you don’t need the military when you have family. I let you make your own choices, but I draw the line at you hurting other people… especially that girl, lord knows she’s been through more than enough on her own. She doesn’t need you adding to that.”

Chris pecks the top of his head and exits the office to deal with whatever is out there. Roy looks at Hughes with a groan.

“I am fucked , man.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Hughes chuckles. Roy returns his face to the desk. “I cannot believe we’re getting pulled into shit like this and we haven’t even been at the academy for a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I also can’t believe that you quite literally have a golden opportunity to date the girl of your dreams and you’re thinking about passing it up. Like… I’m sorry but are you insane?”

“I don’t know…” Roy huffs. “I don’t want to hurt her… but I also can’t deny that… I’m not opposed to dating her but under the circumstances it’s fucking bullshit.”

“Look… you’ve been saying that you want to make this country a better place, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where better to start than here? So the old man wants to play you, play the game and beat him.” Hughes takes a sip of his drink while Roy rolls his face to one side to squint at him.

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Easy, tell Riza.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I… I can’t… if I tell her then I pit myself against Grumman, and beyond that, how terrible is it that her only living family is using her like that?” Roy finally lifts his face off the mahogany.

“You’re right, it sucks, which is why she deserves to know,” Maes says. “I can’t sit here and tell you it’s a perfect plan, but you and I both know that knowledge is power. Maybe you should put that power in her lap and see where it leads you.”

Roy pauses, nodding slowly as he processes that.

“You know what’s bullshit?”

“Hm?”

“That fact that you’ve found a potential wife and I still haven’t!” Hughes bemoans this misfortune with an exasperated whine.

“There it is,” Roy chuckles at the sharp shift in tone, patting his friend’s back in the process. “You can come on Saturday you know?”

“I promised my mom I’d catch a train to visit her!”

“Well, your loss I guess.”

“Hmp,” Hughes pouts. “If she’s got any cute friends, you let me know.”

“I will not.” Roy downs the rest of his drink and stands up.

“Asshole,” Hughes chuckles.

“Let’s go find you a girl on the floor, lover boy.”

“I know your sisters are nice and all, but the last thing I need is a pity fuck. I crave romance!”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Then let’s bar hop, there’s a place on Twelfth Street Private Banes keeps talking about.”

“The tavern? Yeah I could go for something to eat, I guess.”

“Hughes?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I should tell Riza everything?”

Hughes sighs as he stands to face his friend. “Everything? I don’t know about that… but I think she deserves to play the game with a full deck of cards. You know?”

Roy shrugs, “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d be literally playing with fire.”

“Well… military and all that.”

“I want to… I do want to make her happy… I do… I-”

“If you’re trying to tell me you love her I know that, it’s written all over your face,” Hughes chuckles. “I’m happy for you, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

And that’s the heart of the issue, really. Roy doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s got no goddamn clue what he’s doing. All he knows is that he doesn’t want Riza to get hurt but he isn’t sure he can protect her.

Doesn’t he owe it to her, then, to give her the choice to protect herself or play the game?

Notes:

Blown away by the amount of love this story has gotten! I'm so happy you're all enjoying it as much as me!!!!

Chapter 4: Chapter 3

Riza feels a little bit like she’s dreaming as she looks in the mirror. There’s a woman standing before her instead of the girl she feels like most days. Clad in a navy blue dress with a perfectly pressed collar and swishing skirt she looks like the ladies she’s so often seen in magazines. She’s nervous and exhilarated all at once as she runs down the stairs of her home and into an awaiting car.

Grandfather said to be back by eleven; she feels a little like Cinderella wondering when the magic will fade and the night hasn’t even begun yet. She’s never been out on her own before, especially not so late in the evening. 

The dance hall is lively and wide open, music and young people spill out of the open doors. The scent of smoke hangs like a fog over the terrace and Riza finds herself nearly tripping as she exits the car. She’s fairly certain the driver says something about picking her up, but she doesn’t really hear it. She’s so enthralled by the whole area she can hardly breathe, her eyes are alight with pure wonder as she navigates the crowd.

The brass band blares a tune so rich that Riza already finds herself swaying to the beat. She is, for all intents and purposes, already completely in over her head.

“Riza!” Rebecca’s squeak of excitement brings Riza back to reality.

“Rebecca, hey!” Riza clasps Rebecca’s hand as soon as they’re close enough to do so, Rebecca yanks her into a hug and bounces in her hold. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Me either,” Riza chuckles nervously.

“Come on! Elizabeth and the others are already inside!” Rebecca drags her into the hall. “Drinks first and then we are finding your man.”

Riza blushes, “He’s not my man.”

“Yeah, not yet, but by the end of the night he will be,” Rebecca insists.

“Don’t be weird,” Riza hisses, swatting at her friend.

“Don’t be delusional, he asked you out, you’re here, you’re basically married.”

“Not how that works.”

“Riza! Rebecca! Over here!” Gracia waves at the pair from their table.

Jaqueline practically tackles Riza. “I can’t believe it! You actually made it!”

“Seems like nobody can.” Riza smiles easily at her friends.

“This is so exciting!” Gracia hugs Riza when she’s close enough.

“Have you spotted Mustang yet?” Elizabeth asks.

“Stop it! I’m trying to have fun.” Riza takes the drink that’s handed to her. “By the way, hi Leon, it’s nice to meet you.”

Elizabeth’s date smiles at her and shakes her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you Miss Riza, pleasure to have a face to the name.”

“And you are?”

“Simon, Gracia’s date.” The man beside Gracia shakes her hand.

“Pleasure.”

“Okay enough with the formalities! Where is he?” Rebecca asks.

“I don’t know!” Riza hides her face in her drink.

“Well you’re not going to find him in there,” Gracia laughs.

“I just want to relax, okay? If I think too hard about it I’ll panic or throw up or make an idiot of myself.” Riza blushes a deep shade of crimson.

“Let’s take a walk around the hall; just because you’re settled doesn’t mean I am.” Rebecca loops her arm with Riza.

“I am not settled,” Riza argues.

“Just help me find a dance partner, would you?” Rebecca yanks on her friend, pulling her towards the crowd.

There’s a dance going on right now, some extremely high energy number where girls are being flipped and twirled at rapid speeds. Riza is so captivated by the glamor of it all. She’s been to plenty of parties with her grandfather, but a ball and this are completely different. For one thing, people actually want to attend this party and for another there are people her age milling about.

She’s so overwhelmed she almost misses the sight of Roy laughing with a group of men who must also be military recruits. He’s dressed casually with a vest over his collared shirt, no jacket in sight, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. She’s so smitten it hurts.

“Target acquired,” Rebecca laughs, pulling Riza towards the group of guys.

“Wait!” Riza stops her friend before she can skip over to them.

“What is it?” Rebecca only looks mildly annoyed by the interruption.

“I-... how’s my hair? Do I look-”

“You can’t be serious, you’re beautiful, you have nothing to worry about.” Rebecca tries to soothe her.

“I just… I want him to think so,” Riza admits weakly.

“He will, you’re gorgeous and he’s got two eyes. Now let’s go get your man.”

Riza takes a deep breath with Rebecca as they approach the group.

“Hi,” she greets sheepishly, barely able to make eye contact without feeling a tremble shoot through her bones.

Roy pauses at the sight of her, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Hey… you… hi.”

“Hi,” she chuckles. “Oh! Uh, I forgot to introduce my friend Rebecca at the coffee shop, heh. Rebecca, this is Private Mustang.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Rebecca.” He offers her a hand to shake.

“You as well, I hope you’re looking forward to dancing.” Rebecca gives the two of them a knowing smile.

“Well- ahah… um… if you… if you want, Riza, we can-”

“Yes!” Riza covers her mouth after interrupting him. “I mean, Rebecca-”

“Don’t you dare think about me, I’m sure all these strapping young men and I can find something to do.” Rebecca eyes one of Roy’s companions with intent. “You two have fun, but do bring her back in one piece, Private. I’m responsible for her wellbeing tonight.”

“Understood, ma’am.” He gives a teasing salute before offering a hand to Riza.

Riza snatches his hand and yanks him towards the floor as a transitory song plays and the emcee finishes a break of his own.

“I’m glad I found you, it’s a madhouse in here,” Riza smiles at him brightly.

“I’m glad you’re here… I mean! I just thought… you made it sound like you wouldn’t come.”

His cheeks are red and even with his hair slicked back she can see how he would be hiding under his bangs if he could.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to… but I’m here and I’m so… so happy I am.”

He gives her that silly smirk again as they take to the floor - he’s a strong lead and he whirls her around in a dizzying fast-paced trot. She’s in another world for a moment as they spin and swing in rhythm with each other; she can’t even tell if they’re on time or if they’re completely fumbling their way through.

She realizes she doesn’t care if it’s perfect or even good; she doesn’t care if they stand out or if the steps are all wrong. She’s just happy to be here with him, in his arms. He smiles like the sun and when he laughs it’s all she can hear.

They dance a full set, though she loses count of the types of dance they participate in. All she knows is that she is breathless and stumbling into his arms as he leads her away to take a break.

“Tired already, Private?” she teases.

“And you’re not? In those shoes?” he snickers.

“Of course not! I’m a big strong lady who can handle myself,” she laughs.

“Big strong lady who’s already limping after just a few dances.”

“Big strong stubborn lady then,” she corrects herself with a snort.

Suddenly he’s scooping her into his arms and carrying her towards a seat. She’s laughing again, though now she can inhale his scent of brandy and cologne - something with sandalwood and bergamot - they’re so close and she’s never been happier.

He places her in a seat and promises to return with a drink. She’s glowing, she’s certain her hair is a wild mess from being flung around the floor and her feet do ache. But how can she bring herself to care?

“You are too cute!” Jaqueline sneaks into the seat across from Riza.

“Isn’t he?” Riza asks dreamily before snapping herself out of it.

“God, it’s not fair, you’re so lucky to have such an attentive partner.”

“What about you? I saw you out there with someone.”

“I didn’t even get his name… he was nice I guess, but nothing like that. Nothing like you two.” Jaqueline takes Riza’s hands. “I’m so happy for you.”

Riza sinks further into her seat, “I’m so tired but I never want it to end.”

“Night’s nowhere near over although I think I should go find Rebecca. Gotta make sure she’s not getting herself into trouble.”

“When you find her, tell her thank you for me.”

“For what?”

“She knows.” Riza sees Roy returning to the table with lemonades and she’s mush all over again.

“Who was that?” Roy asks, taking the open space Jaqueline left.

“A friend of mine, maybe I’ll introduce you later.”

“Should I expect to see all of your friends a few days before being introduced?” he asks with a laugh.

“Maybe, if not for their sake, for mine.” She takes her drink gratefully.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I step in it on my own, I don’t need help making a fool of myself.”

“I thought we established that you’re never foolish,” he claims, sipping his drink.

“I think you decided that because you’re kind and forgiving. But I have been… less than put together the past… few months.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah, I guess it’s not obvious - or if it is, you’re a particularly good liar.” He makes a grimace at that. “I mean since reconnecting I-... well… it’s nice to have a friend from before.”

“From before?”

“From before I was the General’s granddaughter and had all these… expectations put on me. I don’t… I don’t give my father a lot of grace, but he never expected much of me. That meant I didn’t have anything to live up to. I was freer then, in that way.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely true, from what I gathered… though I wasn’t there too long… your father saw a lot of potential in you.”

She props her chin on her hand, “I guess that’s true… but I wouldn’t have ever been good enough for him. No one was… well, no one except you.”

Roy snorts, “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it, he was obviously very sick when you left but he was disappointed not to be your teacher. He always said not keeping you as a student was his biggest regret.” She looks into her drink for a moment. “I would have loved it if he'd regret, you know, making us live in the middle of nowhere and isolating us from society. But we both agreed on missing you.”

Roy waits a moment before reaching across the table to take her hand. “I missed you too, if that helps.”

“Not much, but I guess I’m flattered,” she laughs. “It’s not like I wanted you to suffer with me… I did miss your letters when they stopped coming, but I was busy too.”

“I wish I’d kept writing, I… I still have them.”

“No you do not,” she grimaces. “I’m sure they’re unreadable, if not from poor grammar my atrocious penmanship must have been illegible.”

“Well, they might be illegible now considering how often I pulled them out to read,” he chuckles, she blushes in response.

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“I thought I was the only one who kept those so close,” she sighs.

“You still have mine?”

“Yup, all ten,” she laughs.

“Well… guess we’re birds of a feather or something.” He blushes.

“Yeah…” she sighs. “To be honest I was less surprised to see you here in Central than I was to see you in the military. I didn’t know you wanted the life of a State Alchemist.”

“I didn’t either really, my new Master turned me onto the idea. I’ve always wanted to help people, you know this world… our country could be so much better and I want to be a part of that. What better way to do that than from the inside?” He looks into her thoughtful eyes and shies away. “Sorry, that must sound pretty childish.”

“I think it’s admirable,” she says, the stars in her eyes have yet to fade and it makes him warm all over.

“Really?”

“I didn’t take you for a dreamer, but wanting to help people… wanting to make the world a better place is so… you’re one of the good ones, Mustang.”

“Roy.”

“Roy,” she whispers his name like a prayer and coming from her lips it feels just as sacred.

“Have your feet rested enough for the next set? Or are you done for the night?”

“Not even close,” she stands up and offers her hand to him. She looks so radiant with a smile that puts the sun to shame.

He lets her drag him to the floor for some dance he doesn’t know the name of. It doesn’t matter, so long as there’s music and her, all is right in the world. As far as he’s concerned, she is the beginning and end of the universe, she is everything.

He likes to think he’s a good dancer, but he’s pushing his abilities as far as he can - even going as far as to attempt lifts just to get her giggling and silly. She deserves the world and he wants to give it to her. In this moment he can forget that he’s got ulterior motives. 

Right now, they are two old friends desperately pining after each other, playing a game to see who will admit their feelings first. He’s so lost in her and this and them that he completely misses her leaning over to say something to an adjacent couple.

Riza is pouting fiercely at Elizabeth who has swung over to throw out a joke:

“When’s the wedding?”

And Riza is not having it, she sticks her tongue out at Elizabeth as she twirls into Roy’s arms further.

“Ignore her,” Riza says.

“Huh?” Roy shouts over the music.

“Nothing,” she laughs, spinning out of his arms and tapping his calf with her heel. He doesn’t rise to the bait, mostly because he doesn’t really know what’s happening beyond her.

The second set ends and Roy is finally coming out of the fog. He offers to take her outside for some fresh air, which she eagerly agrees to. They take a walk around the veranda, paying no mind to the other couples milling about.

She’s as sweet as he remembers with a hint more grace and a vibrancy that must have been dormant during her years of solitude. He is charming and practically perfect in every way, she’s so irrevocably ensnared by him. She doesn’t want to call it love, but it’s something close to that. She’s embarrassed to even have the thought… though a smaller part of her doesn’t care in the slightest.

They return in time for another round of dancing though Riza is dragged over to her friend’s table during the next break. During a round of forced introductions she meets the recruit Rebecca has claimed for the evening and another man Jaqueline seems fine to share a drink with. Gracia keeps looking at her with longing in her eyes, almost like a confirmation that she picked well.

Once the dancing starts again in earnest she pulls Roy after her, anxious to get away from the teasing of her friends.

The night ends far too soon, she knows she doesn’t have much time to make it home but she’s desperate to stay one minute longer.

“There’ll be other nights,” Roy teases, guiding her to her ride home.

“But… what if they’re not like this?”

“They will be,” he assures her.

“Will they?” she asks. They share a look of pure adoration, something like need stirs within her as they breathe in the fresh air.

“If… if you want… I think we’re bound to have a few more at least,” he chuckles.

“But tonight was… perfect,” she whispers.

“Perfect huh?”

“What? You don’t agree?” She starts to pout when he leans forward and kisses her.

It’s her first kiss, his lips are trembling and soft against her and she aches. He is everything, he’s the night and the breeze, and the curl of his fingers anchor her to earth because she is convinced otherwise she would float away.

“I guess you’re right, it is perfect,” he mutters, running his thumb along her cheek.

“Yeah, you… are,” she sighs.

“You’re too kind,” his breath hitches in his chest. “I’ll see you… Tuesday?”

“Tuesday? Right! The range,” she laughs. She’s certain she’s so red even her shoulders are hot with flush.

“Get home safe, Riza… I-... I had fun.”

“Me too.” She stumbles into the car and she hears him laughing. She’s not sure she says goodbye, all she knows is that she’s on her way home after the perfect night wondering if this really is something like Cinderella. She hopes he’s right, that there are more nights like these to come… but she… she isn’t certain how long her luck will hold.

She’s home at 10:51, wishing she had spent those last nine minutes in Roy’s arms.

“How was your night, dear?” Grumman asks, dressed in his pajamas and ‘reading’ a book.

“I had the best time,” she beams at him, sauntering over to where he’s seated and kissing his head.

“What was that for?”

“For everything,” she says. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

He chuckles, “Get to bed, missy, you’ve got your tutor coming bright and early in the morning.”

She nods, scurrying upstairs; her feet ache and her heart is full to bursting. She’ll never forget tonight, not for as long as she lives.

---

Roy flops onto his bunk and covers his eyes with his elbow.

“So, did you tell her?” Maes asks, folding a few shirts his mother insisted he take with him.

“No,” Roy mutters miserably.

“Idiot,” Maes rolls his eyes.

“I kissed her.” Roy admits it like this is some grand secret and not a chaste interaction.

“Congratulations, are you going to tell her?”

Roy sits up in his bed. “Soon… I think… we weren’t exactly alone at all…”

“Don’t get too deep in this without thinking it through. A relationship built on falsity is bound to come tumbling down.”

Roy nods. “I’m screwed, man.”

“I know.”

“No… I mean… I’m…”

Maes looks at him with a mixture of pride and sadness mingling in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Roy flops back again, replaying their kiss over and over in his head like a tumble dryer. She tasted like vanilla and lemonade, she was so warm and sweet against him… He cannot believe she’s real. He cannot believe she harbors the secrets of the universe behind those lips.

He cannot believe that loving her may be the most dangerous game he’s ever played.

Notes:

Welcome to another episode of Roy Mustang is a disaster and an idiot. I love my little stupid war criminal so much holy shit XD AREN'T THESE TWO THE CUTEST!?!?

Also shout out the Maes for being the realest, he will always be the friend of all time. Love that guy.

Chapter 5: Chapter 4

Notes:

CW: There's smut in this chapter so proceed with that in mind! Have fun!!!!

On Monday Riza is practically assaulted by her friends demanding every last detail of her evening. Riza blushes and stutters as she recalls it all, silently harboring a knot of embarrassment in her chest; both because of receiving an interrogation and because she wants to tell them every last detail. Including the kiss that sends the girls into a fit of squeals.

“Okay and then?” Rebecca asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You know! Did he make it official!?” Jacqueline bounces in her seat.

“Like… what do you-”

“Did he ask you to be his girlfriend?” Elizabeth clarifies.

“Oh-... uh, no…” Riza looks away sheepishly. “But he said he’d see me tomorrow so maybe he wants to go on a real date before he asks?”

“Ooo this is a bad sign,” Jacqueline hisses.

“Is it?”

“I don’t think it’s a bad sign, he seemed really nervous,” Gracia insists.

“Yeah, maybe he’s worried about your grandfather. I mean he is like his boss’ boss’ boss twice removed or something,” Rebecca says.

“I had worried about that,” Riza admits with a sigh. “But he’s just… so… ugh.”

“Oh honey you are absolutely destroyed for him already,” Elizabeth chuckles.

“I know it’s stupid and I’m a disaster!” she cradles her face in her hands.

“I think it’ll be okay, just try to be normal around him, you know?” Jacqueline puts a hand on Riza’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe I have to talk to him again without bursting,” Riza sighs. 

“I think you should ask him to be your boyfriend,” Gracia chuckles. “It’d be forward of you, sure, but it also makes sense coming from you.”

Riza blushes in response.

“Don’t you dare! It’s not right! And he should be the one asking because if he doesn’t he’s not good enough for you,” Rebecca huffs, a definitive edge to her tone.

“She’s right, it’s the boy’s job to ask,” Jacqueline agrees with a huff.

“That’s so last century of you,” Elizabeth laughs.

“Well… maybe I will ask…” Riza muses. “I don’t know.”

The bell rings and Riza falls headlong into her studies. It’s easier to read and write than it is to focus on the potential of asking a boy to date her. Even if she still hates literature lessons, she feels that tightness of nerves ballooning into full blown anxiety.

It’s stupid and she knows it; she feels silly caring so much but how can she not? She likes him a lot and it’s hard to ignore the rumblings of affection like an early burst of thunder before a deluge. 

She’s also rapidly realizing her least favorite part about all of this, which is eventually telling her grandfather. It’s one thing to have a crush, it’s another to start dating someone. Riza’s always held her emotions close to her chest - a residual protocol from living with her regimented father. She still doesn’t like to share her heart, even if she’s more open than she used to be.

After school she sits with Catherine in the music room, laboring over the pianoforte in an attempt to create a sweet melody out of nothing. Catherine is an excellent musician, her lithe fingers caressing the keys with an emotion so close to passion the air is thick with the melody. She tries, really she does, but the music that comes from Riza is neither sweet nor enticing; it feels like the keys are mismatched and the rhythm within her is wrong.

“Riza darling?” Grumman is suddenly in front of her, a book sitting in her lap about elemental compounds in organic materials - something she’s sure she chose at random to flush her mind of harsh thoughts… It didn’t work, obviously.

“Yes?”

“You’re somewhere else entirely, aren’t you?”

She takes in a shaking breath, “I guess so.”

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Riza pauses, then she says, “I don’t know how mom met dad.”

It’s Grumman’s turn to pause. “Why do you want to know that?”

“Was he different when he knew her? Or was he always that way? If he was always like that I have more questions - what did she see in him? Do you know?”

Another beat; Grumman despises how many questions children ask. Truth seekers, Maria had said once, children are truth seekers whether or not they like the answers they get… well, that’s beside the point.

“She thought he was the smartest man in the world.” Grumman recalls the way Lydia’s eyes burned with passion. He’s never seen that same light within Riza; his quiet, unassuming granddaughter had so much taken from her before she knew it was hers to hold.

The truth is, he has no idea what Lydia saw in Berthold - if he’s even more honest, he’s certain the man swindled her into falling for him. He had no money or prestige; it had to be love, there’s no other explanation. Until now he’d never cared to know why she chose him, thinking about it felt like holding a lighter to an open wound. Now he wishes he knew, he wishes he had a better answer for her, but he has nothing.

“That’s all? She thought he was smart?”

“I’m sure some part of her thought he was handsome.” Grumman hates this conversation, he wants it to be over - but he feels he owes her some kind of answer.

“You never liked him then.”

“No.”

“Did you agree to let her date him? Or did they elope?”

“They eloped… ran off to East City and disappeared soon after that.”

“Not completely right? I mean, you found me,” Riza attempts a laugh.

Grumman doesn’t think it’s funny. “Took a lot of leg work, but yes.”

“Was mom still alive when you found us?”

“No… gone for a few years by then.”

Riza sits there for a moment, contemplating her next question. “Who do you think I’ll be?”

“What?”

“When I’m all grown up in seven-ish months. Who do you think I’ll be? What do you imagine for me?”

He pauses, uncertain how to answer. “Well… I… I want you to be happy, dear.”

“How do you envision that? I can’t exactly go to university, women aren’t allowed. I could join the military but I doubt you want that.”

“You expect me to answer that I want you married,” Grumman responds with a humorless chuckle.

“Isn’t that all there is?” she asks; it breaks his heart to hear the question.

“No, there’s more to life than that.”

“Like what? What do you expect from me? And don’t say happiness.”

He sighs, taking a seat beside her and pulling her into a loose hug. “The truth is dear, I don’t want you growing up at all. I want you little and innocent all your life.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, it’s not your fault that time marches on,” he insists.

“I’m not little anymore, sometimes I wonder if I ever was,” she tries to jest. It only makes him sadder, knowing that she had little chance to be a proper child. Even now, she embraces teenage behavior, flippancy and irreverence that is oh so adolescent. But she’s not a girl, she never really was a girl, she’s only ever been a young woman on the precipice of adulthood carrying the weight of the world - the fate of it even - on her back.

“I feel like you’re getting at something.” Grumman knows where this is going, it makes him sick with worry and sadness.

“I met a boy,” she says. “Well I didn’t meet him, he and I met when we were younger. I spent all night dancing with him on Saturday… I’d like to see him again.”

“And this boy, what’s his name?” he asks, his voice is hollow and she hears in the echo that he already knows.

“Roy,” she says. “He’s wonderful, I’m not saying I’ll marry him or anything, just that I’d… I’d like to see him again.”

Grumman wants to deny her, he wants to grab her shoulders and shake her. He wants to tell her everything and beg for her secrets so that Bradley will leave them both alone. That’s not an option, it’s not something that’s possible for either of them. Riza’s wearing a target on her back and Grumman painted it with his own hands.

Just as he’d done to Lydia.

“I don’t want you going out with him alone. I trust… I trust Catherine or Gracia. But no solo dates, okay?”

“Really?” she asks in surprise.

“I can’t stop you from growing up, but I can… I can tell you to be safe and hope you’ll listen.”

She leans her head on his shoulder. “I’m always safe.”

She’s wrong and they both know it; Grumman cannot bear the weight of this conversation anymore.

“Well, my darling girl, I suppose you’ll have to prove that. You can see this boy again - and if you like him enough, bring him around.”

“Maybe in a little bit,” she chuckles.

Grumman kisses her forehead and soon enough dinner is ready.

The next day at the range Riza walks up to Roy with a light in her eyes as she rocks to her toes and kisses his cheek. She tells him to take her for coffee tomorrow because she’s tired of waiting.

He is ruined for the rest of the day, his head is completely in the clouds and he’s not sure he’ll ever come down. Hughes gives him some stink eye but he also turns to goo watching Roy stumble face first into love.

Love… fuck .

They get coffee on Wednesday, then go dancing on Saturday, on Monday they take a walk through the park and he buys her a small bouquet of baby’s breath and hydrangeas. Gracia brings Simon along on each of these excursions, and she is more than accommodating with giving them space while still being close by. The other girls insist on tagging along but they keep their distance. Riza and Roy aren’t entirely aware of the passage of time, though they know that sunsets and the ten o’clock chimes mean goodbyes.

On a Tuesday in winter he doesn’t leave the range with his cohort; he stays and shoots a few more rounds with her. She notices her grandfather lingering in the lobby, Riza tugs on Roy’s fingers when he’s switching guns.

“I want you to meet my grandfather,” she says and laughs when he makes an undignified sound. “Don’t be nervous, he’s a silly old man, he’s not so intimidating.”

Roy would love to call her a liar but he can’t do that without leading into… the horrors.

“How do I look?”

“Handsome, if a little sweaty,” she chuckles, ruffling his hair.

He tries to push back his bangs so they don’t fall into his eyes. He places his ammo down and allows Riza to lead him to the General. Grumman straightens his spine seeing his granddaughter sauntering over with the boy in tow.

“Grandpa, I’d like you to meet Private Roy Mustang. Private Mustang, my grandfather.”

Grumman chuckles, “You know, she only calls me Grandpa when she wants something.”

“Hey!” she pouts at him.

“A pleasure to meet you, Private, I expect you’re taking good care of my little girl.”

“Uh- Yes sir! Though I think we both know she doesn’t need me to do so,” he chuckles nervously.

“Be that as it may, I still expect any man worth his salt to protect and watch over his partner.”

“Oh don’t be such a killjoy,” Riza smirks at her grandfather.

“I’ve never been called that before,” Grumman practically cackles. “I trust your training is going well, Private? I hear you’re a State Alchemist in the making.”

“Yes, sir, I am.” Roy nods.

“Well, in the future, I’ll have you know I don’t like to share my shooting time with Riza - have to get my ass handed to me by someone after all and I prefer it not happen in front of my subordinates.” Grumman manages a wink at Roy.

“He’s joking, he lets me win,” Riza tells him.

“I think he’s trying to save my pride. He definitely saw you besting me for the last fifteen minutes,” Roy attempts the joke.

“That can stay between us men, wouldn’t you agree?” The look Grumman gives him could be a full conversation all on its own. Roy knows what it means, what he wants to say, and all at once he understands that horrible cliché about ciphers and coded conversations.

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. I suggest you get back to the barracks, Private. I’ve got a wager to lose.”

“Wager sir?”

“If I win I pick dinner,” Riza explains with an eyeroll.

“You can have her back tomorrow,” Grumman winks at him.

Roy leaves shortly after and Riza looks at Grumman with expectant eyes.

“So?” she asks.

“He’s a fine boy, I suppose, though no one will ever be good enough for you,” he concedes.

“I think I’ll keep seeing him then, I was on the fence,” she teases.

Grumman kisses her cheek and the two of them return to the range. For the most part, Grumman is content to stay out of their business (he follows them on their dates anyway so it’s not as if he needs to ask), her love life isn’t the main concern.

Riza and Roy continue to see each other multiple times a week - sometimes seeing him is all she can think about, other times it feels so natural. He becomes such a routine part of her orbit she forgets what life was like without him, she forgets what isolation was altogether. She loves him for it.

She realizes that they still haven’t really named their relationship when they’re out dancing one night. She wonders if they even need to; her friends certainly think so, she told them months ago that they were official.

She wants him in a way she’s never yearned for before - never thought herself possible of yearning for. She could blame it on any number of things; on her friends and their own salacious escapades, on the memoir they read in class that had a number of sexual undertones, but none of those would get to the heart of it.

She had thoughts of him, thoughts of exploring the planes of his body and the way his skin would feel against hers. She thinks of his body heat and the way he feels when they’re dancing and wonders how similar it would be. 

The first night she thought about him in that light he had to take her home early she looked so flushed with fever. She came before she was out of her dress and again as she lay in bed that night unable to rid herself of the idea - she’s not unwise to the workings of her body. One might even say she is quite in tune with its needs, familiar with how touch makes her into some feral animalistic creature. 

Thoughts of him send her so close to the edge she’s had moments of sitting in class worried her wetness will leak through her uniform. She’s had times where the very idea of him sends her to the restroom to handle herself. Kissing him in places she’s never seen, mulling over what sorts of spots and scars might litter the expanse of him…

It’s becoming a problem to say the least.

Now the world is on the precipice of spring; Riza has yet to tire of dancing but she notices an anxious look in his eye as they finish the first set.

She nudges him, “Why don’t we get some fresh air?”

“Hm?” he asks, blinking away the glazed look in his eye.

“You look tired, let’s take a walk,” she says. “I know… I know with your alchemy exams coming up you must be stressed.”

He chuckles, “You could say that.”

You could also say that your grandfather is ready to kick my ass because I still haven’t figured out Flame Alchemy but that’s neither here nor there.

She runs over to Rebecca when she sees her to let her know where they’re going. Then she takes Roy onto the streets to promenade. The nights are still bitterly cold and she gives a violent shiver as her sweat soaked skin braves the chill.

Roy drapes his jacket over her, still breathless and overheating himself.

“You should really dress for the weather, Riza,” he chuckles tensely.

“I did… when I got dressed it was warm.” She tugs the wool tighter around her frame, a shiver running up her spine.

“Maybe… maybe we can sit in the car,” he offers.

“I’d like that,” she mutters with a small smile.

He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and leads her over to his Aunt Chris’ car - borrowed for the special purpose of his date tonight. General Grumman doesn’t love it when Roy picks her up at the house, but Roy insists that it’s the right thing to do.

They climb into the back seat; the car is still warm from the not long set sun, and Riza fidgets until she works up the courage to drape her legs over his lap.

“You know… it’s not often we find ourselves alone… like actually alone,” she says with a chuckle.

“Don’t we?” Roy asks. “Gracia is quite accommodating I think.”

“Sure… that,” she chuckles.

“Unless you have other things in mind,” he teases.

“And if I did… have other things in mind, would you be… indulgent?” she asks, biting her lip.

“Riza Hawkeye, are you propositioning me?” He feigns a gasp - though his heart stutters in his chest.

“Hmm… I think I am.” She’s embarrassed and excited and horrified and all manner of things. 

His hand is already on her ankle, one thumb traces the bone as he gives a hesitant breath. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, for a few months if I’m honest, but it’s… we’re never properly alone and… it’s hard to find the time.”

He steals her lips before he can internalize what exactly that means. She’s been thinking about him… biblically. She wants him and he, for all his foibles, wants her.

“I have to tell you something-”

“Later, please, I can’t wait… not anymore.” She’s suddenly straddled over his legs and pressing her body against his. 

“ Riza ,” he groans. His cock is already betraying him, straining in his pants.

“I want you so badly, Roy, I think- aha ,” she rocks her hips forward and even with the distance of clothing and petticoat she feels enough friction to elicit the groan.

“ Fuck ,” he whispers. He’d promised himself damnit, he said the first time they were alone together he’d tell her everything. Now they’re alone and he could tell her - should tell her - but he can’t. 

He can’t because his cock is replacing any semblance of sense or logic right now. His hips move against his will rocking up to grind against her undergarments - the heat of her radiates onto his twitching member.

“I th-think about you, when I-I-” she moans again, curling her fingers into the wet ends of Roy’s hair.

“When you- you mean you actually-”

“If you finish that sentence I’ll shoot you,” she says, embarrassed and flustered as she bucks her hips against his.

“You’re incredible,” he says, stealing her mouth for a kiss.

There is nothing practiced or pretty about it, between the uncoordinated gyrating and the way the car bounces with them. Roy thinks he should be embarrassed, he knows he will be embarrassed in a few hours when all of this makes more sense. Right now he’s a disaster for her, a horny stupid disaster that has never wanted so much.

His hands creep up to the buttons on her back and she quickly steals his hands.

“N-no!” she pants frantically. “Just… not… not this time.”

“I can work with that,” he concedes, taking a fist full of her hair and pulling her back so he can suckle her throat.

She moans and he can’t believe a sound like that can come out of a girl like her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says against her throat, one hand sliding down to grope her breast. Even with the barrier of the dress in the way, he feels the thickness of her flesh and shudders.

“I don’t know what I’m doing but I- I want-”

“I’ll do my best,” he promises, releasing her head and pulling his hand under her skirt.

She is gasping and gaping at him, she’s lucky his name is only one syllable because that’s all she can manage in the midst of her ruin. It’s all gasps and Roy and fuck and little else because how can she when his fingertips light sparks inside of her by merely ghosting over her panties.

He moves the sliver of damp fabric away and swirls his thumb over her clit. She bites his shoulder to keep from screaming; she has dreamed of him and this for so long she cannot even begin to fathom how she’ll recover.

She is warm and soaking as his own dick begins to demand attention. He’s nothing if not a gentleman and if there’s one thing Roy knows it’s his way around a woman’s body. His fingers dance an intricate pattern over her clit. He heard once that drawing transmutation symbols helped guide one's fingers - his sisters had laughed when they said as much but now he finds himself doing it subconsciously.

She keeps rocking her hips against his, her thighs holding him hostage as his cock threatens to pop a button. He hears her shudder above him and as he’s planning to remove his hand she grabs his wrist to keep it in place.

He looks up at her, her eyes are glassy and full of need as she lowers herself down onto his crooked middle finger. The sound that comes from her is unholy and he feels his own underwear melt with the wetness of pre-cum. He slips in another finger just to hear that sound again and it is just as sinful as before.

He wonders if this will be enough to pull him through to completion but all it takes is to look up at her to know he’s done for. Her, disheveled and beautiful above him pulsing around his fingers. She comes so fast but she doesn’t stop moving as her essence leaks out of her and into the cup of his hand.

He thinks he should be embarrassed that he’s come in his pants, he’s an adult for fucksake (barely so but the point stands), he’s going to be a State Alchemist and he can’t hold off long enough to not make a mess of his trousers? But she is laughing and it’s such a beautiful sound he can’t be angry.

“Sorry,” she breathes, trying to settle her flushed face and racing heart. “I got… carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he is equally spent as he pulls his hand out of her. She grabs her discarded bag and pulls out a handkerchief for him to clean up, at least what’s in his hands.

“I hope the car is okay,” she grimaces as she realizes what they’ve done and more importantly where they’ve done it.

“It’s fine, no one ever sits back here,” he doesn’t mention that a brothel owner’s car has likely seen much much worse than two young adults humping in the back seat.

She’s still perched above him trying to decide if she should make eye contact or not when he raises a hand to cup her cheek. He pulls his lips to hers and loses himself in the taste of her. In everything she is.

“I have to tell you something,” he says remembering himself. “It’s important.”

“Anything,” she leans in for another kiss.

He gives in, because of course he does, because he’s human and he’s trying not to make an idiot of himself. But he has, he’s spent months sitting on this horrible truth that he has resolved to no longer carry alone.

“I want to take you somewhere private, okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Not going to freak out because of your curfew?”

“It’s barely ten now, unless you’re trying to get me to run away.”

“No, it’s just across town.” They both get into the front seat of the car. He wishes he had something to change into but if he’s going to cum in his pants he supposes he’ll have to face the consequences.

He brings her to Aunt Chris’s place and he can see her bristling at the thought of going into a bar. Because getting fingered in a car on main street is much more ladylike than being seen at a bar when you’re two or so months shy of the legal drinking age.

He opens the door for her and helps her out of the car, her eyes skeptically trained on the building.

“Don’t worry, we’re going in the back,” he promises. “This is my aunt’s place, you’ve never been huh?”

She relaxes at that admittance. “No, though you speak so highly of her- oh shit I can’t meet her like this I look awful!”

He laughs, a genuine deep laugh that causes her to pout at him. “You look fine, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I don’t believe you,” she insists, though she does follow after him, a tremor of nerves creeping up her spine.

They enter the back door and he tries to sneak his way up to his room. Unfortunately, they’re intercepted by the myth herself.

Aunt Chris’s discerning eye rakes over her nephew, a look of displeasure overtaking her features.

“Roy, really?” she asks with the shake of her head.

“What?”

“Honestly, you think I don’t know what kind of mess you made?”

He flushes so profoundly he wonders if steam pours out of his ears. It’s Riza’s turn to laugh so hard she cries a bit.

“I hope you didn’t leave her hanging is the last thing I’ll say on the matter.” Chris taps the side of his head and gestures behind her. “Get changed would you? I’m certain you’ve had more than enough humiliation tonight to ensure it never happens again.”

“Aunt Chris, this is Riza; Riza, this is the very kind delightful woman who raised me.” Roy pushes Riza in front of his Aunt to direct her attention elsewhere.

Chris takes Riza’s face in her hands and gently turns her head from side to side, trying to get a proper look at her.

“He did let you come first right?”

“Are you kidding!?”

Riza is so embarrassed she’s half convinced she’ll pass out, she doesn’t mean to respond with a breathless, “yes,” it sort of just happens. She thought it would be quiet enough for neither of them to hear her.

Unfortunately, Roy stands frozen at her answer and Chris gives her a wicked grin, a laugh rolling off her tongue.

“Glad to hear it then. Why don’t you get comfortable in my office hm? I’m busy downstairs but there’s a warmed kettle on the desk and spare mugs. Make yourself at home, if you need something to change into I’m sure I can find something slinkier.”

Roy is absolutely bewildered by the way this night has gone. “Aunt Chris, you can’t say that!”

“I’m joking, Roy-Boy, and I thought I told you to get changed!”

He gives Riza an apologetic look before bolting upstairs to change. God only knows what Riza will find in his aunt’s office if left unattended, (and while he’s fairly certain he’s hurtling towards a break up) he would really prefer not to be surrounded by dildos during this very serious discussion.

When he arrives Riza and Chris are laughing. Roy isn’t sure he wants to know why but he assumes it’s at his expense; deserved or not is really beside the point.

“I thought you were busy downstairs, Madame,” Roy tries not to huff at the thought of his girlfriend spending time with his mother figure alone.

“Let a girl live.” Aunt Chris puts out her cigarette and rises from her seat. “You’re a good one, Riza, take care now.”

“I will, thank you,” Riza smiles brightly at her in return.

“Roy, if you're going to do your business here the condoms are in the top left drawer of my desk,” Aunt Chris says, gathering her fur shawl from the desk chair.

Roy sighs and rubs his forehead. “I suppose I should say thank you.”

“Yes you should,” Chris waves at Riza and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of her, we’ll talk later.”

He kisses her cheek and bids her goodnight. Chris closes the door behind her and Roy groans. “Whatever she said, I’m sorry.”

“Roy, I go to a girl’s school, there’s nothing she can say to me that I haven’t heard about in excruciating detail. Elizabeth has been dating the same guy all year and she is not shy about anything.”

Roy chuckles, “I suppose I’m relieved to hear that.”

Riza stands up. “So… bringing me to meet your mom, usually that happens before sex of any kind.”

“Well, I guess that makes us modern.” He takes her hands in his and kisses her knuckles.

“I suppose so,” she agrees with a tinge of pink to her cheeks.

“I want to show you my room.” He pulls her behind him towards the small room that hosted his childhood. The slanted roof felt claustrophobic then, now it’s even more so; the walls are mostly bare with a few sketches he’d drawn when feeling rebellious, and a door frame with notches marking his growth spurts. He’s never felt like this room represents him or anything, but it feels safe - sacred even now as a grown man.

Riza sinks into the bed as she takes a seat, when she spots a photo of him and his aunt when he was but a little boy. It makes her smile, seeing him so carefree.

“There is no easy way to put this Riza… but you deserve the truth. I’ve been… trying to say it for weeks now - months even. But we never got the chance to be alone and I-”

“Roy, whatever you have to say, I’m ready to hear it,” she says with confidence.

“You might hate me after this.”

“You don’t get to decide that, I do. So tell me and we’ll see.” She says it with conviction because she knows that’s the only way he’ll hear it. She knows, deep down, there’s nothing he can say to make her hate him.

“I-... I was… when we… your…” he runs a hand through his hair. “Your grandfather is a piece of work.”

“Yeah… I know,” she chuckles airly.

“And when we first reconnected I didn’t even think about him until… until he called me into his office.” She sits and waits for him to continue. “He told me that I… that he was given strict instructions from the Führer to discover the secrets of your father’s alchemy.”

“I know,” she admits weakly, almost like she’s ashamed.

“Your grandfather said that if I don’t figure out what you know… you’ll be… you’ll be in a lot of danger, Riza.” Roy swallows thickly. “But I hate the idea of forcing you to do anything, I don’t want… I never wanted to make you… I have never had any intention of trying to use you. I just think that you should know. You should be allowed to make your own decisions.”

Riza sits there and Roy is shocked by her lack of surprise. 

“Come here,” she beckons him with one hand.

“Riza-”

“Please.” She is still impassive as he complies, kneeling next to the bed instead of sitting beside her. “I have always known that my grandfather is… was… is, I suppose is right… I know he’s looking for something.”

“He loves you,” Roy feels his mouth drying out as he speaks.

“Yes, but he uses the people he loves… he uses all sorts of people because he has to. I don’t… I don’t fault him for it, but I don’t like it either,” she admits softly.

“I’m so sorry, you… you deserve better, you deserve the whole world.” He sighs deeply, his eyes shut in disappointment. He wears a mantle of grief and all Riza wants to do is lift it from his shoulders.

“You’re not using me.” She’s not asking but he feels the need to look her in the eyes.

“No, I’d never… I will never use you.” His lips tremble as he fights back a statement that could change everything.

“I know. I trust you, Roy. I really do, believe that,” she implores him sweetly.

“I love you, and I want-” it bursts out of him without reserve, without control. Like the gusts of wind created from the impact of a bomb. He watches her reel from the admittance. 

“You want?”

“I want…”

“Roy?”

“I want to marry you,” he whispers.

She leans forward and kisses him so deeply she feels like she can’t breathe.

“Riza-”

She’s delirious and desperate for him but she has to ask, “You want to marry me, even without my fa-”

“I would marry you in any world, in any life, in any way you would have me. I love you,” he reiterates.

They kiss again, only this time when Riza pulls away she has a much more serious expression.

“Take off my dress,” she says in a whisper. She turns away from him and bunches up the long locks of her hair that had fallen from its style.

With shaking fingers he unbuttons her dress, the process is agonizingly slow and she feels a deep sense of dread overcome her. It’s like her father is screaming at her in the beyond, telling her to hide away, to keep his secrets for the rest of her life. But she’s tired of bearing this burden alone.

He gasps when her dress falls away and he sees the dark ink swirling across her skin. He’s not exactly a novice alchemist at this point but the intricacies, the details before him make his stomach seize with anxiety. Then the anger hits, he hadn’t known Bethold long at all… but to know he did this to his daughter is sickening.

He coils his arms around her middle and pulls her into his chest, shielding her spine from the rest of the world. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry he did this to you.”

She shivers as he kisses her shoulder. “I’m tired of hiding it… I need to… I need to share it with someone… if there’s anyone in this world who is worthy of this power it’s you.”

“ Riza ,” he looks into her eyes and sees a swirl of starlight and darkness within her. It becomes clear then, she isn’t giving anything away - she is begging him to carry this load with her.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice husked with desire. “I want to be yours… I want to be your wife.”

He kisses her, cradling her body with the reverence of an acolyte carrying a relic.

“I’ll have to worship this body to uncover its secrets, you know,” he says, kissing up her shoulders until he reaches the junction of her jaw.

She melts into him, her heart absolutely on fire as she gives a careless moan.

“It could take weeks of study, months even.” One hand rises from her waist to cup her breast. She was divine before, still clad in her dress and whimpering, but she feels more heavenly naked. His hands knead her flesh and his cock is once again fully aware of what’s coming. It almost hurts to be aroused so soon after such a harried experience - but want doesn’t rest.

He slips her onto the bed until she’s lying on her back, her dress slipping down her waist and melting from her thighs to pool on the floor. She’s a picture to behold; long lines and soft skin, she’s everything perfect about this world.

He kisses her as he positions himself by her side, one hand cradling her neck and the other hooking his thumb into the waistband of her underwear. Her hips roll in waves, desperate to lose the offending garment so that she might be bare before him.

“Roy,” she groans, pulling at his shirt and silently hoping the buttons will snap. She wants him naked; wants to see him in the same way he sees her.

He rises a bit hurriedly to remove his shirt when he has to pause at the sight of her. She is so ethereal, so perfect, so many wondrous things - he is irrevocably in love with her. She sits up and forces the rest of his shirt off, her hand raising to the planes of his chest. He shivers at the contact but does not shy away.

He lifts her wrist to his lips and sucks just the slightest bit before he slinks down between her legs.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he insists with a throaty whisper.

Hoisting her thighs over his shoulders, he presses his lips against her clit. She fists the sheets beneath her, wanton sounds falling out of her mouth like a faucet left unattended.

Everything is white hot and ecstasy; he is the beginning and end of her world. There’s only this, only pleasure and static buzzing from his lips to her core. She can’t be sure of what she’s saying but she knows it’s unholy. Knows it is profane and horrifically embarrassing. Her clit quivers somehow unsatisfied even with his full attention.

The ache rumbles around inside of her as she realizes she needs to touch him. Her hands in his hair, she wants his stomach in her hands, his chest, his back, fuck she wants his dick in her hands.

“Roy,” she whimpers. “Come back.”

He looks at her, eyes gleaming with desire as he laps at her clit again.

“Please,” she begs as her head falls back against her will.

Rising from his knees he lays on top of her, their lips colliding somewhere in between. He is so ensnared by her there isn’t a thing she could ask for that he would not bring her. He would go to hell itself and return with the devil’s crown if she asked, he would perform mythic feats to satisfy her.

It’s only as this thought concludes that she is removing his trousers; he lavishes her with kisses before he speaks.

“We shouldn’t.” The whimper she makes pulls his heart right out of his chest. “I mean not… I didn’t bring… and I don’t… not this time. There are other ways.”

“Yeah, I know, but hands haven’t been enough all these months,” she groans as her body betrays her statement. She is teetering on the edge of an orgasm and she hates it.

“So you’re saying you think about me,” he chuckles, relief filling his gut as his cock is released from its prison.

“Every night,” she gasps. “Every night when I come it’s thinking about you.”

He steals her lips again because how can he not? His bare thigh presses between her legs, and while it’s not nearly enough stimulation to bring her to climax, she makes a sound so heavenly he has to swallow it up.

“I think of you. Whenever I touch myself I only think of you, Riza ,” he moans as his hand returns to her clit.

“You-”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he implores her as his fingers dive into her once more.

She doesn’t have patience, however; she’s a teen girl in the bed of the man she’ll marry one day. She comes apart so immediately even he’s a little shocked. Pleasure runs through her like an electrical unit sparks to life. A never ending marathon of nerves and need stumbling over each other to create the beautiful mess she coats his hand in.

She gasps and groans her way through the shock of pleasure, eyes unseeing as her head lolls to one side. He nips and kisses her neck until she’s out of the thick of it. He is once again so enamored, so unwell by the sight of her wracked with orgasmic bliss that his cock twitches obscenely - demanding to be attended to or else .

His hand wraps around his dick, pulsing faster and faster until he notices Riza looking at him once more.

“Can I try?” she asks, voice croaking in her throat.

“You… you can rest,” he huffs as he cannot contain his desire.

“I can still… teach me,” she whispers.

He rolls to his side so she can get a better view, hand still firmly wrapped around his cock because he cannot keep from touching himself.

Her lithe hand reaches for his dick, her fingers tremble as they wrap around the appendage.

“Show me how,” she instructs, her wrist tenses as she squeezes the flesh.

His cock spurts a bit at the contact but he covers her hand with his and pulls in a familiar way. It’s better than any masturbation session could ever be. Her hands are rough and perfect against him.

She looks between his dick and his eyes every few seconds, uncertain where to look but knowing she wants to look. She wants to see him in all his naked glory. She only hopes her look of surprise doesn’t betray her; she’s sort of glad he forgot the condom, she’s not sure she would know what to do.

“Riza,” he groans.

“Roy,” she whispers back.

“Could you… say something,” he flushes at the embarrassing request.

She gives him a genuine thoughtful smile as she nods. “I wish… I love you… I can’t wait to marry you… someday - tomorrow even - I want your cock inside of me.”

He cracks at that, voice stuttering out of him like a broken radio spits out songs. He sees his cum splat against her hip and thigh and he thinks he should be embarrassed but he isn’t. He can’t bring himself to as she looks at it with intent curiosity.

Her hand unravels from his cock, then she swipes a finger over his spend and lifts it curiously to her lips.

“Don’t do that, you’ll rile me up again,” he laughs, exhausted and a little bit sore.

She licks it anyway, snickering as they make eye contact, “Can’t stop me.”

He laughs because it’s true; he can’t stop her and he never will. He will never deny her a damn thing and it will ruin them both one day he’s certain.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” she agrees with a hum, leaning forward to kiss him completely.

They kiss for a long time after that, her sucking spots into his throat and him holding onto her as tightly as he dares. He fights the instinct to mark her; he’s certain Grumman will be killing him in the morning regardless, but he’d rather not stoke those flames.

“We have to get you home,” Roy says breathlessly.

“I don’t want to go,” she whines into his throat.

“I know… I know,” he agrees weakly. What else is there to do? He doesn’t want her to go either; he doesn’t want to face the world knowing what he knows now.

Berthold was a coward who left his secrets imprinted on her body; Grumman is a coward who wants those secrets by any means necessary; The Führer will send her to the front lines for keeping this alchemy locked away. They’re all vile wicked men and he hates them for what they’ve done, he hates them for shaping her life before she had a chance to grow.

The drive to her home is mostly silent; she holds his hand but keeps her head low. It’s like she’s hiding from him, shying away from the reality they find themselves in. He kisses the back of her hand and hopes that she knows how deeply he admires her.

He walks her to the door and she hesitates to move from his side.

“Riza…”

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she says with a sigh. “We still have a few minutes until eleven.”

“Do you want me to go in with you?”

“No,” she chuckles. “I’m too… I can face him.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Roy reminds her needlessly.

“I know, he’s wrong… I still don’t want to face him.”

Before Roy can respond, the front door opens and Grumman is standing there in his pajamas looking deeply upset.

“Riza, darling, you’ll catch your death if you don’t come inside,” he says, his voice stern and commanding.

Roy’s spine straightens at the use of his General voice, but Riza doesn’t even flinch.

“I’ll come inside in just a moment,” she says.

“Now, Theresa,” he insists harshly.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” Roy squeezes Riza’s hand reassuringly.

“I love you,” she says with a small smile thrown his way.

“I love you too,” he whispers in the hopes that Grumman won’t hear it; a futile hope and they all know it.

Riza feels her grandfather’s hand on her shoulder pulling her inside, but she waits until she sees Roy get into his car. She walks inside once she’s ready and not a second before.

“Well, I see you’ve gotten quite comfortable with Private Mustang.” Grumman can barely hold back the edge of his anger.

“He’s my boyfriend of almost six months; I don't see why I shouldn’t be,” she retorts carelessly.

“Because you’re a teenage girl and throwing around I love you’s is a dangerous game,” he says.

“You can tell me, you know,” she snips back at him. “Tell me you’re angry we were alone, I know you followed us.”

Grumman’s jaw sets as he takes in a shuddering breath, “I did no such thing.”

“So you wear lipstick in your free time that matches the exact shade of the old lady that helps run the dance hall?” She raises a brow at him. “I’m not stupid, I know your tricks.”

“You want to explain to me why you felt it was necessary to get intimate in an automobile, then?”

She flushes but pretends it’s rage rather than an admittance of guilt. “Because I love him and he loves me. What’s so wrong with that?”

“I could have him expelled from the military for public indecency,” Grumman raises his voice.

“You could but you won’t,” she snaps back.

“You think I won’t?”

“Unless you want history to repeat itself you won’t. I never knew my mother but I know I’ll do the same as her if you try to keep me from him.”

Grumman glares at her. “You are in a world of trouble on your own, leave your mother out of this.”

“You don’t have to like it but I’d choose him over you.”

“You don’t seem to understand what’s going on here, Riza. There is no corner of the world you can go to that I won’t upend to find you. Because if you leave I won’t be the only one searching.”

“I know you’re looking for my father’s research,” she snaps. “I’ve always known, but I had hoped you’d love me more than you wanted his secrets.”

“You misunderstand-”

“How? How can I possibly-”

“Listen to me!” Grumman’s voice goes beyond commanding as he takes her face in his hands. “If you continue to keep your fucking piss poor excuse for a father’s secrets, Bradley will kill you. He will-... he will have you drafted into the army and taken to war so you can die in a fruitless battle. He will do it, I have no doubts, and I cannot watch you die like that. I will not-”

“I would be a good solider-”

“He would orchestrate a horror so profound your life would be snuffed out in an instant, Riza. He would kill hundreds if not thousands to be rid of you. I cannot express how little Bradley cares for the lives of others and I will not let you become a victim of that.”

Riza feels a darkness curl inside of her looking into her grandfather’s eyes. He is so raw and barren before her, she wonders if he’s ever been honest with her. If this is his honesty, she’s certain she’s never seen it.

“He’s a good alchemist… Roy will be… Roy will be the best alchemist of his generation. I know it.”

Grumman sighs and drops his hands to her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

“I love him… didn’t you love Grandmother like this?”

He looks away from her then, taking in a slow, measured breath, “I loved your mother enough to drown her in it - I don’t want to do the same to you.”

Riza feels her heart ache a bit - she wonders if her mother proclaimed something similar about her father. It seems so daunting to face the patterns of history. Brilliant men and the women who revered them for some unknown reason.

She’ll never know why her mother loved Berthold, if she did at all; she’ll never know if her grandmother adored or admired her grandfather. Riza vows then and there, her children - should she be blessed enough to have any - will know how deeply she loves Roy.

Grumman pecks her forehead and pulls her into a tight embrace. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me… I never wanted any of you to suffer because of me.”

Riza has a hazy memory of her father then; it’s almost like he speaks for her when she opens her mouth.

“We don’t get to choose who suffers, only how much.” She presses her cheek into his shoulder.

“I wish I knew a way to keep you safe.” He closes his eyes and curses Berthold in his mind. That damn man continues to cause this family ruin.

“You do know how to keep me safe, you did it already.” She looks up at her grandfather and understanding passes between them.

“You’ve given it to him then?”

“It’s complicated,” she mutters.

Grumman gives a shaking breath, “I trust you.”

She’s not certain he does, but she chooses to believe him - even if she’s beginning to feel like she never should have put such faith in him to begin with.

---

Roy flops onto Maes the second he’s back in the barracks. Maes nearly throws his book in surprise as his best friend groans against his chest.

“Um Roy? Excuse me what the fuck?” Maes asks with wide, confused eyes.

“I told her,” is all Roy says.

“Thank god, better late than never!” Maes sits up further as Roy melts onto the floor. “So how bad was it? Did she yell at you? Did she break up with you?”

“She told me she’d marry me.” Roy feels the anxiety melt away, a laugh bubbling out of his chest as his best friend's face goes blank.

Then he’s being held so tightly his ribs are crunching as Maes smashes their cheeks together.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED, YOU SON OF A BITCH, CONGRATULATIONS!”

Roy laughs again, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe… fuck, man, this is all happening so fast.”

“And… have you… you know?”

“Have you fucked yet, Mustang?” one of the other guys asks with a laugh.

Roy blushes up to the tips of his ears; “Uhuh.”

The guys around them give a few whoops and cheers in response.

“Dead man walking over here,” one of them laughs.

“Grumman’s gonna kill you, man!” another cackles.

Roy gives Maes a look - an answer to the real question at hand, an affirmation. Maes nods imperceptibly and claps a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m best man, though, right?”

Roy snorts, “You’re free to submit your application.”

Maes feigns devastation, but they both know there’s no world in which he wouldn’t be by Roy’s side on his wedding day.

“Roy Mustang, first of his cohort to get hitched!” One of the guys holds out a hand to congratulate him.

“We’re taking you out tomorrow to celebrate!” another says with a raucous laugh.

“As best man until proven otherwise, I’ll be planning all wedding related excursions,” Maes proclaims, causing the other guys to tease him.

Roy watches the others jovially argue about when will be best to celebrate the engagement. He is warm down to his toes as he allows it all to wash over him. To love and be loved in return is such a decadent feeling Roy could drown in it. There’s love here too, between comrades, and it feels good to be a part of something bigger than himself. He’ll be someone’s husband soon… he wonders if he’ll need to ask Grumman for permission.

Then his face falls and a harsh, “Fuck,” flies out of his face.

“What?” Maes asks.

“I gotta buy a ring!”

Notes:

Screaming, crying, throwing up - THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED AND THE ANGST IS HERE!!!!!! These two goobers are killing me! Roy's admittance scene did not go how I expected but Riza was simply too smart for her own good and I love that for her.

Also I am obsessed with them (especially Riza) being teenage horny disasters.

Chapter 6: Chapter 5

Riza is well and truly grounded - her and her grandfather have come to a stalemate in the aftermath of Saturday’s argument. She thinks the sticking point is that she told him her intention to marry Roy. Grumman, obviously, is not a fan of this development and tells her to ‘cool her head for a few days’. He then took the phone from her room and insisted she study for her upcoming final exams. She was going to do this anyway, of course, after she freaked out about it to her friends.

So for perhaps the first time in her life, she’s grounded and quite literally under house arrest. While she would love to add fuel to this fire between them, she really doesn’t want to prolong this suffering beyond a few days. She remains docile and quiet, skills she honed while living with her father, studying the principles of calculus instead of thinking about Roy.

All of her thoughts wander back to him, however, and it makes her heart burn with desire. She wants to talk to him, wants to write to him, wants to run to one of her friends and tell them everything. She’s bursting to tell someone in her life who will… actually be happy for her. 

When Monday rolls around she is so excited to get to the girls she nearly misses Rebecca hanging outside the building waiting for her. In fact, she nearly jumps out of her skin when Rebecca loops her arm around Riza’s.

“Hey girl, got a minute!?” Rebecca asks frantically, yanking her into the restroom.

“Damn, Rebecca, what’s gotten into you?” Riza asks, straightening out her uniform once she’s released.

“So, I’m assuming you were busy with gramps yesterday and that’s why you didn’t answer your phone so I’m telling you now out of courtesy. Simon broke up with Gracia.”

Riza’s jaw drops. “What?”

“Yeah, I know, apparently he was tired of being ‘strung along’ because she wasn’t putting out and always going on double dates with you and Roy. Which is so fucked because you know she’s waiting until marriage anyway.” Rebecca is getting angry again just thinking about it.

“Well… is she okay?”

“She was a certified disaster yesterday, which is why I kept trying to call you but your housekeeper said you weren’t around.”

Riza hesitates, “Well I-”

“Becca! Did you corner her?” Elizabeth scurries into the bathroom. “God, Riza, we need you. Gracia’s been having such a rough weekend, and I am at my wits end. Can you talk to her?”

“Of course I can, is she in homeroom?”

“Courtyard,” Elizabeth sighs. “Poor thing is distraught.”

“Please tell me she’s not still thinking about going back to him,” Rebecca groans.

“Not right now, but she’s definitely spiraling.” Elizabeth rubs her temple.

Riza hurries off to the courtyard where Gracia is sitting with an uncomfortable looking Jacqueline.

“I mean it’s possible he’s just a jerk, right? Men are the dumbest creatures on the planet and he’s proof of that,” Jacqueline offers weakly. 

“But I… I spent so much time with him and he was such a good listener.” Gracia’s gaze meets Riza’s and she sinks further into the bench.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I was unavailable yesterday, I feel like a terrible friend.” Riza grimaces as she kneels in front of Gracia.

“It’s fine, it’s not like you were there or anything,” Gracia sniffles to hold back more tears.

“Yeah but I should have been. I’m so sorry, Gracia. You deserved so much better; he wasn’t nearly good enough for you if that’s what made him leave.”

Jacqueline offers her seat to Riza and Riza takes her turn consoling her friend. Make no mistake, she feels a deep sense of guilt that she wasn’t there for Gracia that night… She is also deeply bothered that she can’t freak out about her possible engagement.

By the time class rolls around, Gracia has cried into both Riza and Elizabeth’s shoulders. Riza is a little shocked at how sad Gracia is about this break up. Really, she hadn’t known just how deeply Gracia had fallen for Simon; that realization makes her feel like an even worse friend. They’ve been going on double dates for literal months and she never noticed how smitten Gracia was.

“I just feel so terrible for her,” Rebecca sighs when she and Riza find themselves alone in music class. “Like, of all of us she didn’t deserve that.”

“I know,” Riza huffs. “I wish I’d been there.”

“I mean… yeah, you really should have been. I’d have loved to see Roy clock him into next week. I mean, he broke up with her after the second set! Like they still had most of the night left.”

“Yeah…” Riza bites her lip.

“Where were you anyway?” Rebecca sounds disinterested and Riza is ready to spill. “I mean, I assume you guys came back after your walk but I didn’t see you around since I was busy with Nathan and then with taking Gracia back to the dorms.”

“So…” Riza bites her lip, trying to decide if now is the time. “I want to… you have to promise me not to say anything to the others.”

Rebecca perks up at that. “Um, excuse me? You know I will not be doing that, what happened? Did Roy-”

“Please Rebecca, with Gracia being so fragile-”

“Did he hurt you!?”

“Miss Catalina, I believe you’re supposed to be in your art class.” Professor Volk eyes the girls with annoyance.

Rebecca gives Riza a dirty look and scurries out of the lesson before the bell rings. Riza tries to focus on her music, really she does, but her heart just isn’t in it. 

Catherine smiles sweetly at her when class is over. “You’re coming over today, right?”

Riza bites her lip in thought; her grandfather hadn’t said to not go to the Armstrong estate this afternoon… it would be very rude to disrupt her schedule anyway.

“Of course, I’ll see you in a bit.” Riza returns the smile with a jittering, nervous heart.

“Great, we can practice our duet for our final.” Catherine lights up with the idea.

“I’m looking forward to it; after that disaster of a practice I could use a pick me up,” she chuckles feebly.

“One bad day does not a disaster make,” Catherine points out kindly.

“You’re right,”

“Riza!” Rebecca and Jacqueline frantically wave her down.

Riza grimaces as they flank her and squeeze her arms aggressively.

“Oh my god we need to get you to study hall!” Jacqueline proclaims a little too loudly.

“But I have calculus next period,” Riza says, deliberately oblivious to their chaotic intentions.

“Yeah that one! You’re so right!” Rebecca pushes Riza towards the library.

“Bye Riza, see you after school!” Catherine calls.

Riza glances back at Catherine with an apologetic smile. Once the girls have dragged Riza to the library Riza finally wiggles out of their arms.

“What is your problem?” she asks.

“What happened!? I’ve been freaking out all last period!” Rebecca exclaims, swatting at her friend.

“And you know we’re not the secret-keeping kind, not from each other,” Jacqueline pouts.

“Well, I’m sorry but… given everything with Gracia I just didn’t want to cause a scene.” Riza folds her arms.

“And yet a scene has been caused, did Roy do something? I’ll kick his ass,” Rebecca insists.

“No! It’s just… ugh, I got grounded okay?” Riza feels a flood of embarrassment fill her face as she sits with that half truth.

“You? Grounded?” Jacqueline gapes at her.

“Yes, and I don’t want her to know, alright? I got in a huge fight with my grandpa about… about a lot of stuff but especially my mom. It was a whole thing.”

Rebecca sighs sadly at her, “Riza.”

“It’s fine really, let’s focus on Gracia and I can have trauma later,” Riza resolves with a hint of longing in her tone. “I have to get to class.”

“If you need anything you can always call us,” Rebecca says.

“Grounded,” Riza reminds her. “I got my phone taken away.”

“That bad?” Jacqueline’s eyes widen in surprise.

“That bad,” Riza nods. The bell rings and she has to book it to class so that she isn’t late. Gracia smiles weakly at Riza and the pair of them work through their study guide diligently.

Thankfully it’s the last class of the day and Riza is free to go to her Monday ritual of piano lessons with Catherine. Rebecca does stop her to apologize for accosting her earlier and Jacqueline brings her a brownie from her cooking class. As far as Riza is concerned, all is forgiven, though she isn’t certain how they’ll react when they find out about Roy.

“Riza? Are you okay?” Catherine asks as soon as they are left alone in the sitting room. They haven’t even sat down at the piano yet.

“Hm? Oh, well, yes I suppose I am,” Riza smiles at her.

“Your friends were acting weird.”

“Yeah… they do that…” Riza admits weakly.

“Are you sure nothing is the matter?”

Riza smiles at Catherine, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to spill everything.

“Well I… you know that I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Private Mustang right? Brother talked about him briefly, said he was a rising star in the academy.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Riza flushes at the thought of Roy already proving his salt as a soldier.

“Did something happen? You’ve been seeing him for a while now.”

“Well… he asked me to marry him. And I said yes.”

Catherine’s eyes soften, the hue of her eyes turning from a watery blue to something closer to a clear summer sky.

“That’s amazing, congratulations!” She hugs her friend and Riza finds herself holding back a squeal.

“Thank you!” Riza chuckles before righting herself once more. “It’s still unofficial, he hasn’t asked my grandfather and I don’t have a ring or anything.”

“Yeah but that’s exciting anyway, you should be excited. I know I would be,” Catherine sighs dreamily. “He can bench your weight right? That’s very important in a future husband.”

Riza laughs; she knows Catherine is asking what is - in her mind - a very serious question. It’s still hilarious.

“He can and then some,” Riza chuckles.

“Wow, how perfect,” Catherine sighs. “Well, I’m really happy for you, you’re going to be the prettiest bride.”

Riza hugs Catherine. “Thank you so much.”

Catherine leans into the hug. “I’m excited for your wedding!”

Riza lives in the fantasy of that; she indulges in the idea of a beautiful wedding where everyone wants to be there. Where everyone is happy for her. Catherine plays a sweet melody and suddenly she’s in a grand hall with the love of her life.

She hopes that the future holds such a sweet moment for her.

---

Roy is panicking; he has been summoned to Grumman’s office after lunch on Monday. He spends most of his spare time on Sunday studying chess - he cannot make a fool of himself again. Maes laughs at him for this development, but he is not without sympathy. He and Maes go out to buy an engagement ring too; a silver band with a small diamond in the middle that glimmers in the sunlight.

When the dreaded day arrives, many of his friends give him a salute and wish him well - his funeral will be well attended he’s certain.

He marches diligently towards his death sentence Grumman’s office; he is sweating and his breathing is heavy as he waits for the secretary to return. He stays perfectly still, his training coming in handy now as he tries to give off an air of dignity.

“Private Mustang, the General is ready for you.” The secretary returns with a calculating eye.

Everyone knows, everyone knows that he and Riza are a couple; and he’s fairly certain they all know about the engagement. It makes his stomach twist painfully as he absorbs the scornful looks of the people closest to the General. They hate him because they don’t think he deserves Riza… they are probably right.

Then Roy enters Grumman’s office and his heart stops because sitting at the chess table sipping tea is none other than Führer Bradley. Roy thinks he’s going to throw up but one look from Grumman reminds him of his place.

“General Grumman, Führer Bradley, sir.” Roy salutes to both of them.

“Ah! There he is, the man of the hour.” Bradley puts down his cup and beckons Roy over. “Come here, boy, let me get a look at you.”

Roy stifles a sound of horror as he takes a few steps towards the Führer.

“My, my, I see our Riza has good taste; wouldn’t you agree, General?”

“Indeed, sir, I wouldn’t have expected any less from her.” Grumman has a conversational smile on his lips but Roy knows it’s a façade. He can see the tension in the flex of his hand as it goes from his belt to hiding behind his back.

“You’re an alchemist-to-be, correct? Your test is in a few months’ time?”

“Yes, sir, at the end of the summer.” Roy nods.

“Excellent, I look forward to seeing your display. I’ve heard nothing but good things from your superior officers but I simply had to come meet you myself.” The Führer stands up and stalks toward Roy like he’s a particularly young lamb, ripe for the slaughter.

“You honor me, sir.” Roy bows his head in deference.

The Führer clicks his heels together, calling Roy to lift his gaze towards the man’s. Eye contact is an oddly intimate thing; with only one place to look, Roy feels even more anxious than he would otherwise.

“Please, the honor is all mine. I must admit, I’m fond of Miss Hawkeye, my wife is as well. We see her as… one of our own in a way.”

“I suppose in addition to asking for the good General’s permission for her hand, I must ask you as well then?” Roy attempts a breathy laugh but it feels stale in the air.

There’s a pause and then the Führer is slapping Roy’s shoulder and laughing. “But of course you have my permission. She’s a special one, and don’t you go forgetting that.”

“I could never, sir, she’s everything to me.”

“I am so glad to hear that; she is a treasure. And speaking of -” Bradley reaches into his pocket and procures a little black box. “A gift. My wife picked it out, I think our girl will love it.”

Roy nods, trying to decide if he should take it. He holds out his hand as Bradley places it in his palm.

“I hope it’s her size, what do you think?”

Roy opens the box at the Führer’s urging; it’s a stunning ring and absolutely massive. The diamond is emerald cut and set around a dainty frame of gold vines and smaller diamonds. It’s gorgeous and nothing like Riza in the slightest. Roy gulps down a breath to gather his thoughts.

“She’ll love it. Mrs. Bradley has exceptional taste.”

The Führer smiles broadly. “I’ll tell her you said as much. I look forward to seeing you at the next officer’s ball. I’m sure Mrs. Bradley will be thrilled to see Riza wearing her engagement ring.”

“Of course, sir, thank you for your confidence in our relationship.”

“I am waiting on bated breath for the wedding announcement, Private; an invitation wouldn’t hurt either.” He gives a final cheery smile as he heads to the door. “Congratulations to you both; what a happy union it will be.”

With that the Führer leaves the office and Roy’s heart keeps beating out of his chest.

“Sorry about that, Private, I’m afraid our chess game was ambushed,” Grumman sighs as the tension in the room dissipates.

“Not to… look a gift horse in the mouth, sir… but what do I do with this?” Roy holds out the box to Grumman.

Grumman takes the ring and looks it over, “Well, it’s too small to have any bugs… I’d assume you’re safe to give it to Riza.”

“Sir… I do… I-”

“Why don’t we take our leave, Private? The estate isn’t far from here.” Grumman is already donning his coat and Roy fumbles to follow suit.

The drive to the Grumman house is not long but it is painful and Roy is too scared to be the first to speak. Roy hasn’t been in their house, not really; the first time he picked Riza up for one of their dates he’d sat in the front room and briefly chatted with Grumman. Now, Grumman is leading him towards his office, into the heart of the house.

Roy is disheartened but unsurprised to find a chess table set up.

“So, Private, tell me something.” Roy nods as he watches Grumman pick a spot. “Do you know anything about my family?”

“Beyond you and your granddaughter, you mean?” Roy takes a seat across from the man.

Grumman nods, moving his rook first.

“I don’t know anything about Mrs. Hawkeye or your late wife, sir.” Roy moves a pawn thoughtlessly.

“Hm…” Grumman contemplates his next move. “My marriage was arranged for me - Maria was her name. A beautiful woman, I never really appreciated her looking back on our time together. She was a bit of a wild child, I think that’s why her father married her to me. Something about being the trainer that would break her.”

Roy doesn’t know what to say to that so he chooses to remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I had no interest in marriage or ‘breaking a woman’ so I didn’t. I let her be and she let me be. Then a few years into my career I decided that I fancied the idea of fatherhood and she was amiable to the idea. She died a few years after bringing our Lydia into the world. She was never the same after the delivery but she got a good few years in with our daughter, she always said she had no regrets.”

The pieces on the board are, in Roy’s eyes, uncoordinated - there’s no pattern to either of their moves. It’s confusing to say the least.

“I was a proud father; I felt I had every right to be, my daughter was everything to me. But I didn’t want to give up my life for her so I forced her to fit into mine. It’s easy to forget that children are their own people and it’s especially hard to remember they will grow up with or without you looking.”

Roy’s chest aches seeing this man so focused on the game before them. It’s a false interest as he falls back into long buried memories.

“One day I saw her dancing with the ‘brightest mind of our age’ and the boy looked so smitten with her. I had heard plenty of rumors about Berthold, that he was unstable in his brilliance, but Lydia had always been attracted to greatness. I told her in no uncertain terms that she was not permitted to see him, so much so I locked her away in this house whenever I knew I’d be away. She hated it and she hated me for keeping her here.”

Grumman moves his queen to collect Roy’s rook, and Roy’s knight takes his queen in return.

“In hindsight I know I kept too tight a grip on her, but I just couldn’t fathom how she could love a madman. To be honest, to this day I’m not sure if she did love him or if she wanted to save him. She failed either way but I have pondered it over the years. In any case, she eloped, ran off in the middle of the night when I was gone for a training exercise in the north, and when I returned she’d been gone for almost a week. I tracked her down to East City but all that was left of them was their marriage license at the registrar.”

Roy thinks for a long while between his pawns and his bishop, absorbing the story as best he can without looking up at the General. He’s not sure he can face whatever expression that man is wearing.

“By the time I found that jackass living in the boonies out past West City Lydia had been dead for a couple of years. I was desperate to see Riza but Berthold wouldn’t hear of it. Then, of course, he died and Riza came into my care… by virtue of my being in the right place at the right time. I shudder to think of what would have become of her if I hadn’t.”

Grumman’s pawn takes Roy’s bishop, Roy’s pawn takes Grumman’s knight.

“And now, we’re here, the two of us. Dealing with the fallout of my incompetent late son-in-law and at odds with each other.”

“I’d like very much not to be at odds with you, sir.”

“She told me she would pick you over me in an instant.” Grumman tells him, moving his knight towards Roy’s rook.

“Sir?”

“Do you actually love my granddaughter or are you doing as I commanded you to, Private?”

Roy feels his heart lurch into his throat. “She was my first friend, you know… when we were young she… she’s always been important to me. I consider myself incredibly lucky to love her. It would have been harder if you hadn’t enlisted my help… All of this to say, yes I love her, more than I can express.”

“And marrying her now doesn’t frighten you?”

“It frightens me a great deal; I want to make her happy and I’m just a recruit… I’m not sure I can give her the life she deserves but I know I’ll cherish her. I know I’ll do whatever it takes to give her a good life.”

“Marrying young is a tricky thing,” Grumman says, placing his rook in line to steal Roy’s queen. “Do you think you can handle such a challenge?”

Roy doesn’t hesitate to move his king into place, protecting his queen, “I can.”

Grumman gives him a wry smile, “Good.”

“I am sorry I didn’t ask for your permission first, sir.”

“Bah, what the Führer wants he gets.” Grumman waves him off. “Promise me you’ll let me see her no less than three times a year and whenever you choose to have children make sure they think I’m grandfather and not great-grandfather.”

Roy nods, “Terrible question but um-... which ring should I give her?”

He produces the ring he bought with a shaking hand and Grumman laughs. “How sweet, give her both and let her decide.”

“Thank you, sir, for everything.”

Grumman pats his back as a car pulls up to the house. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Roy’s legs shake as he walks down the steps to meet Riza; she looks at him with bright, confused eyes.

“Roy! What are you doing here?” she asks, meeting him in the middle of the foyer.

“I… felt it was more proper to get permission… to um… to ask you the right way.” Roy kneels before her and smiles in spite of the terror in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

She collapses to her knees and nods. “Yes, of course, yes.”

He leans his forehead against hers, “What a relief.”

“Grandpa-... did you-”

“Ouch, my heart, I got a Grandpa at a time like this,” he laughs. She rises to her feet and hugs him tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers into his shoulder.

“Oh, none of that, you’ll make an old man weep. Now go pick your ring.”

“What?” Riza turns to Roy who is procuring both rings.

She laughs as Roy explains that the Führer’s wife is behind part of this. She takes both and promises to cherish them. Roy has no doubts she will and when she kisses him all is right in the world.

Roy stumbles home after dinner, dazed and horrified by everything that he has witnessed. Maes is pacing outside the barracks waiting for him.

“Roy! Are you okay!?”

Roy looks at Hughs and grabs his lapels; “The Führer is coming to my wedding.”

“Excuse me!?”

“You heard me,” Roy says, releasing his friend.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“You have to be joking.”

“I had to ask him for permission to marry her before her grandfather,” Roy tells him, still completely dazed by the whole situation.

“I can’t… What the hell, Mustang!”

“I know.”

“I’m going to have to give my best man speech in front of the Führer!?”

“Not the point,” Roy groans.

“Wait so… is it official then?”

Roy nods, “What the hell… what the hell?”

“We’ve got to get your dress blues altered!”

“No dress blues at my wedding, Hughes!” Roy cannot believe he’s arguing about the dress code of his wedding with everything that’s going on. It is hilarious and horrible; Roy starts laughing because it’s an outlet to get his emotions out.

“Roy? You okay?”

“I need a drink, want to come to my Aunt’s place and scream?”

“You don’t even need to ask, man, I’m here for you.”

Roy really believes that; at least in all of this, he still has someone rooting for him.

---

On Tuesday, Riza wears the silver band that Roy gave her on a necklace under her uniform. She doesn’t feel like showing it off. Frankly, she doesn’t feel ready to wear a ring at all but the Führer’s wife bought her the other ring and she doesn’t want to be caught without it. Her grandfather agreed with a grimace but gave her permission to wait a little longer to go without a ring.

The next Monday she wears the gifted ring and if she wasn’t running late she would have been more cautious about hiding it.

Rebecca spots the damn thing from a mile away; they’re sitting in homeroom writing down their finals schedule. Riza’s hand holds her chin as she writes and suddenly her hand is stolen from her, nearly causing her to face plant into her planner.

Rebecca is reprimanded by their professor, but Rebecca does not give a shit. Rebecca doesn’t even hear their professor’s scolding; she is so aghast at the sight of Riza Hawkeye wearing an engagement ring she’s gone deaf.

“Miss Catalina, keep your hands to yourself!”

“With all due respect, Professor, Riza’s engaged!” Rebecca squeals. Chaos ensues with the proclamation, all twelve of the senior girls in the academy devolving into gasps and squeaking congratulations.

Gracia gasps and grabs Riza’s shoulders to look at the ring while Elizabeth shoves her ribs into her own desk to get a glimpse.

Riza is embarrassed and cackles as Jacqueline steals Riza’s hand from Rebecca.

“Ladies! Sit down or I’ll have all of your final exams confiscated!” Professor Ragnes wacks the front desk to get the girls’ attention. They all scuttle back to their seats, sufficiently scolded. “You can congratulate Miss Hawkeye when I release you.”

It’s not that Riza is one to shove a threat aside but she also wonders what would be the worst that comes from not taking their final tests. It’s not like women are permitted to go to universities or work in leadership positions. Most of her friends have ambitions of marriage and their education here is meant to take them far in their social connections…

Still, she diligently outlines her last week of school before being bombarded with questions about her upcoming nuptials.

Rebecca agrees to be the maid of honor with tears in her eyes and the other girls dive head first into planning her shower. Riza watches as her friends excitedly attempt to put together a schedule of events. It makes her feel loved, more loved than she thinks she’s ever felt in all her life.

Notes:

Y'all I am severely depressed but the bright side is that this fic has 16 chapters backlogged on my gdrive XD

Hope you liked it~

Chapter 7: Chapter 6

It only takes a month and a half to plan a wedding - a fact that Riza was surprised to learn given how often her friends talk about the importance of weddings. She’s been to a couple of weddings since moving in with her grandfather but none of them stuck out in her mind. Still, she had anticipated that the event would be a larger undertaking given how much people talk about it; marriage changes everything, so she’s heard.

She goes along with the planning, mostly because the girls are so enthusiastic, but really, her grandfather decides most of the details. After all, a wedding in the family of such a high ranking officer is something that should be exploited a cause for celebration.

The one thing she does get to pick is her wedding dress; her grandfather insists it be a secret for him so she goes with the girls the day after their finals conclude. They’re all officially free of any school obligations and while the others should be trying to figure out their next steps in life… they care much more about a dress.

“I think you should do something short! They’re so fashionable.” Jacqueline holds out a knee length tulle dress with enthusiasm.

“I think you should do something more classic, you’ll be gorgeous in something like this.” Rebecca slinks over to a mannequin dripping in lace.

Riza chuckles beside Gracia who is already looking at veils.

“She’ll look beautiful in anything she picks,” Gracia asserts.

“But especially in this,” Elizabeth hands a slip dress off to the boutique worker.

“I’m not the only one looking anymore,” Riza reminds them with a snicker.

Elizabeth blushes but doesn’t stop looking for dresses. “Today is about you, we’re going for my dress later.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t do both,” Riza gives a good natured smile.

“Don’t you dare! You’re never one for the spotlight but this time it’s well deserved,” Jacqueline insists.

“Is it? All I did was get engaged,” Riza says weakly.

“Yeah but you’re the first to get engaged, that’s so incredible,” Rebecca sighs. “I hope I find someone soon; I don’t really want to look for work.”

“Why not? You can be a hot secretary,” Jacqueline laughs.

“Because I want to be doted on and romanced like these two,” Rebecca explains.

“I would hardly call it that,” Riza chuckles as the boutique worker ushers her into the changing room.

“Of course you wouldn’t but your man asked the whole damn Führer for your hand. That’s the epitome of bending over backwards for your girl!”

Riza doesn’t respond as she thumbs through the dresses; so many of them have low backs. She feels a twist of guilt as she selects her first option. There aren’t many things that still make her resent her father but having her entire wardrobe dictated by his choice to inscribe his life's work on her back is definitely one of those.

She comes out in the first dress drenched in lace and wearing an uncomfortable smile. The girls absolutely fawn over her:

“Oh my god, you’re beautiful, Riza,” Rebecca sniffles looking at her.

“It’s a little modest for my tastes but it looks good,” Elizabeth confers.

“Absolutely stunning!” Gracia claps.

“Don’t you think you’ll be hot with the sleeves for a summer wedding?” Elizabeth asks, tugging on the fabric.

“I mean… maybe, but I don’t know,” Riza admits sheepishly, turning to get a different angle of the dress.

“I think it’s a little severe for you to be honest,” Jacqueline shrugs.

“You don’t think I’m severe? I’m crushed, I spent years cultivating that rumor,” Riza chuckles as she reenters the dressing room.

“Yeah okay,” Jacqueline snickers.

Rebecca laughs, “Have you and Roy picked a honeymoon spot yet?”

“Oh yeah, don’t keep us in suspense, where are you going?” Elizabeth gasps.

“We haven’t decided - he won’t get much time off from training so it’s not going to be too long.” She pulls out a dress she hates because she’s certain the girls will like it.

“And I’m sure you’re going to enjoy every second regardless,” Gracia says.

“He will at least,” Rebecca snickers.

Riza is still blushing as she shows off the next dress - short sleeved with a slightly dipped back that sits just above her tattoo.

“That’s cute,” Jacqueline coos.

“Very sweet,” Gracia agrees.

“Oh I like it!” Elizabeth is practically swooning.

“You look miserable, just take it off,” Rebecca chuckles.

“That bad huh?” Riza snickers.

“You don’t have a poker face, hon,” Rebecca insists.

It’s such an incorrect statement Riza feels her eyes widen at her friend in response.

“Come on, the girl can lie, I bet she’s been keeping the fact that they’ve fucked a secret for months,” Elizabeth snickers.

Riza’s jaw tightens as she blushes a deep crimson.

“Oh my god wait, is she right!?” Jacqueline nearly gags on some spit.

Riza dashes into the dressing room as the girls giggle and argue over the truth of it.

Riza emerges wearing a dress with a lace neck piece; the others call her bluff.

“Way too innocent for a girl who’s getting dick already,” Elizabeth teases.

Riza tries not to choke at the thought of that, “Shut it!”

“So you did!” Rebecca gapes at her. “Oh my god did you use protection!?”

“We’re in public, could you stop!?” Riza swats at them.

“Is that why your grandpa grounded you!?” Jacqueline gasps at the realization.

“Is that why you’re engaged!?” Elizabeth follows the logic quickly after.

“No and no!” Riza pinches the bridge of her nose. “Well, okay, yes I was grounded because of… him finding out we had messed around… but we didn’t get engaged because of it.”

“You’re so bad!” Elizabeth giggles.

“I’m very proud if that counts for anything,” Rebecca smiles at her.

“Can we focus on the dresses please?” Gracia asks weakly.

“But this is important information Riza kept from us!” Rebecca protests with a pout.

“It’s private, I don’t blame you,” Gracia gives her a sympathetic smile.

Riza steps back into the dressing room, her hands combing through dress after dress that she cannot wear. Some feeling adjacent to fear clutches at her throat, a cousin to anxiety perhaps, when she finds one dress that is soft to the touch, practically melting in her hand with silkiness. It has a floaty neck piece but isn’t too modest; it feels like something she would wear without the need to hide away. 

“I’m getting this one so act accordingly,” she calls to her entourage, slipping into the dress with practiced grace.

“It is this one,” Jacqueline agrees with a dreamy sigh.

“You’re so perfect, I can’t believe it!” Rebecca gasps.

“Absolutely beautiful,” Gracia sighs as she melts into her hands.

“Gorgeous, beautiful, stunning - let’s hurry this along so we can get somewhere private and you can tell us how good he is in bed.” Elizabeth winks at her.

Riza rolls her eyes but takes a rare moment of vanity to admire herself. She likes how light it is, how it floats and hugs her body in a beautiful display of elegance. She likes the idea of wearing this on her wedding day, she likes the idea of Roy seeing her as a bride.

It lights something like a fire within her, one she hopes isn’t so easily burnt out.

---

Roy has an engagement celebration with some of the guys in the barracks a few weeks before the wedding. He still sort of wishes he was with Riza instead of here… mostly because he let the guys bully him into a bar crawl and now he’s sloshed showing up at his Aunt’s place.

The girls give him some side eye but they mostly seem amused by it.

“We should all pitch in to get him a girl for the night,” one of the guys slurs slightly as he speaks.

“A gift for the groom? I’m game.”

“Why would I get a girl when I’ve got a wife?” Roy asks. The bar is warm and loud around him. He isn’t used to being in the crowd; he had grown up behind the bar and up the stairs. It feels odd… or at least it would if he were a little less inebriated.

“Aw, Roy really is head over heels.”

“Can’t tell if I’m disgusted or jealous.”

Hughes returns with a glass of water and a small smile. “Why don’t we get you some air?”

“Yeah okay,” Roy nods, allowing Hughes to hoist him to his feet and drag him outside.

The instant Roy is outside he plops down onto the curb and loosens his collar a bit. He hadn’t realized just how stifled he’d been inside the bar.

“Are you… are you doing okay?” Hughes asks.

“Hm?” Roy looks up at Hughes. “I’m okay.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to drink yourself into oblivion tonight,” Maes admits, sitting beside his friend.

“I’m not that drunk,” Roy claims. “I’ve just been stressed. I had more than I anticipated I guess…”

“Roy-”

“Am I a bad person, Maes?”

He stops and looks at his friend, really looks at him and sees - for the first time - a young man who is torn up inside. A boy who is terrified and pulled in so many different directions, Maes can’t even fathom it.

“No, you’re not a bad person.”

“Are you sure? I feel like a bad person.”

“That’s how you know, I think. Once you decide you’re a good person it’s easy to make excuses when you make bad choices.”

Roy hums, “I really love her, I-... I don’t want her to feel like I’m using her.”

“Did she tell you that she’s feeling used?”

“By almost everyone in her life, yeah.”

“By you?”

“No… I just worry that… it’s so close to feeling that way.”

Maes nods once. “Then you have to put in the work to make sure she never feels like she’s being used.”

“I’m gonna go find her and kiss her,” Roy says resolutely, stumbling as he stands.

“I think it’s better if we get your ass to bed instead,” Maes laughs.

Roy leans on his friend more in response, “Gotta show her I love her, gotta make her know I’ll always love her.”

“Why don’t we just give her a call then?” Maes smirks; he may not be an active agent of chaos but he is an enabler of it.

“Yeah okay.” Roy is half dragged to a payphone and once the proper number is dialed Maes greets Riza with a humored laugh.

“Yes I’m taking care of him… yes he’s fine… he just wanted to say goodnight…” Mase smirks as he hands the phone to his friend.

“Riza?”

“Roy, are you okay?” She’s chuckling into the receiver and he melts at the sound of it.

“I don’t know, I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again because I get to love you.” His voice is wavering, from drink or from tears Riza doesn’t know but she laughs again.

“You’re sweet.”

“You’re so special to me… you’re everything to me actually… you’re just… you’re such a knockout and I… god why do you… you know I’m not using you right?”

“I know that, Roy.” Through her voice he hears the smile that’s got to be pinching her cheeks.

“You’re so pretty and smart and perfect, I love you so much… you’re going to be the prettiest bride in the world.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. You drink some water okay? And listen to Maes, he’s trying to help you.”

“Okay,”

“I love you, get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you too.” Roy gives the phone back to Maes and then he rests further on the man’s shoulder.

“Yep, I’ve got him don’t worry… I can get him back to the barracks no problem… Yeah… Yes ma’am… take care now.”

Roy begins to fade into the warm embrace of a dreamless sleep - vaguely aware of his best friend hoisting him into a fireman’s carry. He has a fleeting thought about missing his wife before dozing off completely.

What a beautiful title that’ll be, he thinks to himself. What a beautiful wife she’ll be.

---

There’s a chill in the air the night before the wedding. It had rained all day - a sign of good luck if everyone who saw Riza that day is to be believed. Truly, she’s unbothered by the weather; she’s been pulled in so many directions she doesn’t have time to think about the auspiciousness of her marriage.

The past two weeks have been a blur of planning and parties - she and Roy did make their debut at the Military Ball, much to the pearl-clutching awe of the other officers. A recruit at an event like that was truly something of a scandal. General Armstrong certainly scoffed about it, though she was ‘refreshed by the change of a man clinging to his woman for dear life’ so that got a laugh out of Riza.

Mrs. Bradley seems to have a fascination with the couple; the fact that she insisted on attending the bridal shower was already a heavy load to bear. Let alone the fact that now Riza sees the way Führer Bradley watches her every move. She can feel the urgency he hides beneath his bright jests about Roy’s career. 

At least now that the perfunctory events are over and done with, Riza can focus on one final night out with her friends before the big day. A joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a dance hall that is sure to take her mind off everything surrounding this marriage.

She bids her grandfather goodnight and hurries off to the dance hall, her wits still barely intact. Upon arrival she sees the hall full to bursting once more, a sight that is now both familiar and nostalgic - the memories of her first night here with Roy washing over her in a flurry of heart palpitations.

She’s early for once. Skimming through the crowd she tries to locate her fiancé, but instead finds his friends already securing a table with a copious amount of drinks. She fondly remembers the state in which Roy had called her recently; how sweet and sad he’d sounded as he slurred his words… as darling as that was, she doesn’t need a repeat.

With her hands behind her back she approaches the familiar face of the best man.

“Looks like you’ve got a good head start,” she chuckles.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the blushing bride!” Maes squishes her to his chest. “Congratulations.”

She pulls away and smirks at him. “Don’t tell me you were indulging early.”

He feigns a gasp. “My lady, I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing!”

“I hope that means you’re looking forward to tonight, got your eye on anyone?” Riza teases lightly.

Maes rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I’ve been trying to… well I’ve been burned a few too many times recently. I might just be a supervisor tonight.”

Riza looks at him with a hint of shock; she’s never seen him so nervous before. Maes is full of bluster, one of the sweetest and funniest people she knows. To see him so down is nothing short of jarring.

She glances around the hall almost as if she’ll find a solution in the crowd. For once, the solution is right in front of her eyes; she sees Gracia walking into the dance hall, curiously glancing around for her party.

Riza grabs Maes’ arm and beams at him. “Come with me.”

“Hm? Why?”

“I’m about to change your life, thank me later,” she says, tugging at him again.

Maes puts his drink down as he allows Riza to yank him towards her friend.

“Gracia!” Riza calls.

Gracia lights up at the sight of her friend, “Riza! You look beautiful.”

The two hug for a moment and when Riza pulls back she’s wearing a shit eating grin.

“Gracia, have you met Roy’s best man yet?” Riza gestures to Maes behind her. She sees the military recruit looking gobsmacked at her friend and her smile grows even wider.

“I haven’t,” Gracia admits with a conversational, albeit nervous, laugh.

“Gracia, this is Maes Hughes. Maes, this is my friend Gracia.” Riza watches the two of them shake hands with deep interest.

“It’s nice to meet you Miss Gracia, you-... aha… you have lovely eyes,” Maes gives an airy laugh.

“Oh! How kind.” The flush of her cheeks is enough to make Riza feel like she’s intruding on something intimate.

“I’ll let you two get acquainted before the first set,” she chuckles, pausing just before she takes her leave. “Maes, if you hurt her I’ll shoot you.”

He barely glances at her before offering Gracia his arm, leaving Riza feeling particularly proud of herself as she struts back over to the group of military recruits. Her fiancé has appeared seemingly out of thin air; he’s laughing with his friends and looking more at ease than he has in months.

Riza slinks to his side and kisses his cheek, feeling him jolt in surprise.

“What? You don’t have a girlfriend do you?” she smirks at him.

“I don’t actually, I’ve got a fiancée.” He sweeps her up into a kiss, rocking them in time to the music.

“Save it for your wedding night you two!” one of the guys calls out. Roy flips them off before pulling Riza into the first set of the night. He is zealous with their dancing, swinging her around the floor like a rock gathering momentum in a sling. It’s lightning fast and just as fun as she twirls in and out of his arms.

When the first set ends they scurry over to their table where their assembly of friends have brought together an assortment of drinks and even a cake. They make a toast and drink to the happy couple, all the while Riza is in Roy’s arms swaying in time with the music. 

She has never been one to enjoy being the center of attention but she already feels like she’s touched the center of the universe being by Roy’s side. He is magnetic, he draws people to his side and he can keep them there. People trust him, people see that he is extraordinary and she is proud to stand by his side.

“I heard through the grapevine that we have a couple here tonight that’s getting ready to tie the knot.” The Emcee wears a cheeky grin as he exaggerates scanning the crowd for them.

Riza’s cheeks flush as the dance hall erupts into applause.

“I want to be sure we can wish the happy couple good luck in their union!”

Their group makes a raucous sound, parting the way for the hall to turn their attention towards them. Riza glances up at Roy and sees that he too wears a sheepish expression. She reaches to his cheek on instinct, cupping his face with her usual tenderness. He steals a kiss to give himself some courage and she leans into him further.

“Ah! There they are! How sweet are you two! Why don’t you come to the center of the floor and start our next set off right?” 

Riza’s flushed and chuckling as Roy tugs her onto the floor. The emcee starts with a sweet ballad, coaxing other couples to the floor.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Riza asks with a laugh.

“Of course I am,” Roy tells her.

“Really? Not nervous at all?”

“Well, nervous is relative I think. I got through the worst of the nerves when I asked for your hand. The rest will be easy in comparison,” he laughs.

“Will it? Everyone keeps telling me how hard it is to be married, which is quite the shift considering how much everyone told me marriage was a wonderful, necessary thing.” She gives a bitter chuckle in response.

“It can be both, I think. Wonderful and necessary and hard and scary.”

She hums thoughtfully, “For what it’s worth, I think it will be less hard and scary because it’s you.”

“I think you’ll make marriage easy, not that we won’t have trials… but you are… I’ll do everything I can to give you a good life.”

“Don’t make it seem like I am just along for the ride. This is a partnership, the two of us, we’re a team now.”

Roy absolutely beams at her. “I like that.”

The sweet crooning of the emcee comes to an end and Roy sweeps her into a dipped kiss. Their impromptu fame is meaningless; the applause falls on deaf ears. All that matters is him, all that matters is her, they are the only thing in the world insofar as they are aware.

The Emcee laughs, “Congratulations to the beautiful couple! And Good luck!”

Notes:

If you want to see Riza's dress for the wedding it's right here!
https://pin.it/2ZuvFaHpm

I love these two idiots - they've got a storm coming but they've got the spirit!

Chapter 8: Chapter 7

The morning of her wedding, Riza feels like her world is at a stand still. Her throat is tight and her hands are trembling as she allows her hair to be done up - she’s never been one to let others do for her what she can do herself. Today, however, she’s making an exception.

It’s surreal, in its own way. She never anticipated being in this position - that being nervous on her wedding day. Truly, as a child she only ever imagined some fantastical story of someone coming to save her from isolation and marriage being a relief. She wasn’t even nervous until last night when she realized that today will change everything.

And the kicker is she’s not nervous about marrying Roy, she’s nervous about everything she’s promised. She’s giving him her father’s secret and somehow that feels… dirty . It feels wrong, like a betrayal. Maybe it is in a way; part of her wonders what the hell her father was thinking leaving his secrets to her.

She knows the truth. Her father didn’t consider her in all this; he didn’t consider that she would have to live on once he died; he didn’t think she would go back into society let alone get married. He never considered her at all… a startling theme in her life…

The knock at her door jolts her almost out of her skin as she fumbles to finish lacing up her dress. She had insisted on dressing herself, alone, even if she received teasing glances and jests from her friends

“One second!” she calls, smoothing the sides of the dress. It is pretty… she’s pretty is perhaps a more apt description.

“Take your time.” The laugh of her grandfather snaps her out of staring. Vanity is unbecoming, even if she barely recognizes that girl looking at her.

“You can come in!” She looks briefly around the dressing room to see if she’s forgotten anything. Shoes or her veil or maybe even her sanity…

Her grandfather opens the door and looks at her; she waits for him to say something, nervously twisting her fingers. 

His gaze is soft, maybe even a little sad as he whispers. “You look just like her.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Riza chuckles breathily.

“A very good thing,” Grumman agrees, his eyes sparkling with emotion.

Riza walks forward and hugs him, her throat so tight she can’t even speak. He kisses the side of her head and she swears she can hear him sniffle.

“Am I late?” she asks with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“The bride is never late, I think. It’s your day, indulge a little.” Grumman squeezes her again. Although they are basically the same height, Riza feels dwarfed by him. She feels like a little girl in the arms of a man with presence, a man who fought to be right where he is now.

He’s in his formal uniform, a black pressed suit with an array of medals and ribbons decorating his chest. She looks up at him with big glassy eyes and chuckles again.

“Why am I so nervous and so excited at the same time?”

The question makes him pull his lip in, as if to keep from crying. “Because you’re a smart young woman who knows how big a deal marriage is.”

“I’m… I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” she says quietly. It’s a reassurance to both him and herself - in spite of everything she is happy. She is blissfully, indulgently happy to marry Roy. That doesn’t negate the nerves, but it makes the weight more bearable.

“Are you truly?” He cups her face in his hands. In his eyes she sees a final plea: Just tell me his secrets. Tell me how the bastard did it and we can forget all of this.

She kisses his cheek. “Yes. I’m nervous, but I’m so happy.”

He lifts his glasses to swipe at his eyes. “Then I guess we should get going, huh?”

She nods, letting out a shaky exhale in relief. He tucks her hand into his elbow and guides her down to an awaiting car. She hears the clicking of cameras and a flush colors her cheeks.

She doesn’t think of herself in the context of her grandfather often. Perhaps it’s a consequence of still being something of an outsider in high society, but she feels like a very normal girl. She knows that her grandfather is a pillar of military excellence, she knows that everyday citizens know who he is but it’s not often she is confronted with that fact.

She recalls her first day at school, when she introduced herself to Rebecca and her soon-to-be best friend gasped at her.

“General Grumman? The guy who basically won the Three Wars by himself? He’s your grandfather? ”

Riza hadn’t realized his fame (or infamy depending on who was asked) was far reaching enough that even teenage girls knew of him. Gracia had scolded Rebecca for being so reactionary but Riza had merely laughed it off at the time.

Now she is once again faced with the reality that she is something of a public figure. Were she a bit more naïve she might even say she feels like a princess, having photographers documenting her wedding day. Instead it tightens that knot in her gut; she feels seen and almost embarrassed… She can only imagine how Roy is feeling.

“Can you tell me something about your wedding day? Maybe something you remember about grandmother?” Riza asks as they come upon a bit of light traffic.

He takes her hand and hums softly, “Well… I remember… It was only the fourth or fifth time I’d met her… but I remember seeing her come into town hall and I thought to myself, ‘yes, I think I can marry her’. Apologies that it isn't more romantic, but that’s what comes to mind.”

“Was she pretty?” Riza asks. “Do you miss her?”

“She was beautiful… and at times like these I do miss her,” he chuckles. “I was the one who wanted children, but I know your grandmother would be so pleased to see you now. She’d be even more pleased to see me as such a nervous nelly.”

Riza bites her lip. “Father would be furious.”

Grumman pets her hand. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

“I think he’d hate to see me marry anyone… not out of fondness for me but…” she takes in a weak breath. “He always hated when something lost its usefulness.”

“Look at me, love.” Her grandfather squeezes her hand. “You are not something, you are a wonderful, bright young woman. Moreover, you are not something that loses value, you are human and humans… we have a funny way of growing when it feels like we are losing a part of ourselves. When we lose something we gain something as well, don’t forget that.”

“Law of equivalent exchange?” she asks with a stilted laugh.

“Similar but different. You’re an alchemist’s wife already.”

She nods and squeezes his hand back. “Thank you… thank you for taking me in.”

“I wish I had taken you in sooner. I’ll live with that regret for the rest of my days.”

The car pulls to a stop and Riza smiles at him. “Let’s go do something we won’t regret.”

He laughs, exiting the car and rounding the side to help her out of the vehicle. There are more photographers around and Rebecca is waiting on the sidewalk to guide Riza into city hall. She takes her grandfather’s hand and tries not to allow Rebecca’s tears to inspire her own.

“You’re the prettiest bride,” Rebecca tells her as she passes off a bouquet of peonies.

Riza beams at her while Rebecca takes up her place behind Riza, ensuring the train of the dress splays out just right. Inside the hall there’s a long line of well wishers; Central certainly has a large municipal office and while it hosts weddings daily, Riza wonders when the last time there was such a large celebration.

Most marriages in the city are kept between families, at least the ceremonies are, in Riza’s experience. She’s been to many receptions over the years since coming to live in Central but never the ceremony itself. When she still lived with her father, weddings were cultural events where the whole town would come together to witness the joining of two people.

Her wedding feels closer to the latter; there’s a large group of wellwishers that Riza only vaguely recognizes, though a few of them pat Grumman’s shoulder as they walk by. They enter a courtroom wherein every seat is taken up by witnesses, most of whom she once again does not recognize. 

She sees the Armstrong family; Catherine gives her a little wave though General Armstrong pointedly pulls the girl’s arm down. She sees Führer Bradley and his wife; Mrs. Bradley has a hand over her heart and absolutely glows with pride while the Führer wears an easy smile.

Riza clings to the sight of her friends sitting close to the front and Aunt Chris smiling at her. There are a few familiar faces from Roy’s cohort, some of whom seem to still be reeling from the previous night.

She realizes she is so busy taking in the throng of onlookers she has almost completely forgotten why she’s here. She finally finds Roy’s face at the front of the hall and feels her face light up at the sight of him. Him in his well-tailored suit and watery eyes as he looks at her. She nearly misses the way that Maes shakes Roy’s shoulders, clearly trying to make sure the groom doesn’t totally dissolve into tears.

Roy salutes her grandfather sharply before shaking his hand. Grumman claps his shoulder and the pair of them have a wordless conversation. She’s certain if either of them spoke on what they were thinking she would roll her eyes. 

Her grandfather turns to her before passing her along. “See you on the other side.”

She laughs and allows him to guide her face down so that he can kiss her forehead. His hands linger on her cheeks before he grabs her hand and passes it to Roy.

The judge chuckles as they position themselves in front of him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a handsome couple, and one with so many friends and family to support their union.” A ripple of scattered applause echoes in the hall.

Roy’s trembling and she squeezes his hand in response.

“Who has come to witness the marriage of these two young people?”

Rebecca and Maes step forward to swear that they have come freely and of their own volition to witness the marriage. They sign their names on the marriage certificate then they stand to the sides of their respective party. Riza passes the bouquet to Rebecca as she is instructed to face Roy.

Roy is saying his vows, his voice is sure and his eyes are bright. She wipes away a few tears from his cheek and chuckles when the audience coos at the gesture. She has never been so overcome with emotion, she’s never been so sure of anything in her life.

She repeats the words of the judge exactly as she is instructed to, her heart thrumming painfully against her ribs. He smiles at her like the warm summer sun streams through the windows of this hall. He looks at her and she feels like the earth coming to life with the dawn, like she is something sacred and precious.

Maes is handing Roy their rings, gold to match the ring Mrs. Bradley chose for her. Riza is wearing the silver ring as well, around her neck on a thin chain under her dress. Her eyes sparkle as she slips the ring onto Roy’s finger.

They sign their marriage certificate next, Riza’s signature daintier and curled while Roy’s is bold and stark. She takes hold of his arm and leans into his side as the judge signs the document and stamps it with a seal.

“Now’s the hardest part, you two,” he says with a smile. “Private Mustang you may salute your bride.”

There’s laughter that she hears like it’s a few rooms away, Roy looks at her, takes a breath and kisses her. It’s chaste and sweet; he is perfection, he is her husband, and he is everything.

“It’s my honor to pronounce you married,” the judge says the words that seal them to one another and she is in disbelief.

The room is giving a standing ovation but she isn’t paying attention; she can’t take her eyes off of him. Rebecca is trying to get her to take her bouquet and Roy is trying to point that out to her, but she just can’t move on from this moment. Not yet. She wants to commit it to memory, the sight of him with a bit of lipstick on his lips; she wants to remember their very first moments as husband and wife.

Roy takes the flowers and the audience laughs as he raises it above his head the same way she has seen brides do once the ceremony is over. It snaps her back into reality and she holds out her hand to take the flowers. Her fingers brush his as he transfers the flowers to her open hand. He pulls her in for another kiss and blushes when he pulls away, as if he didn’t mean to do that.

The pair of them exit the courthouse with almost childish smiles - they are embarrassed and elated, recognizing that they are the center of attention. Riza especially finds herself shrinking into Roy’s side and he is more than happy to act as a barrier between her and their well wishers.

Suddenly, blessedly, they are in a car speeding off towards their next destination. Before either of them can say anything, Riza is kissing Roy again.

“We really did it, huh?” Roy asks breathlessly.

“We did,” she chuckles. “We’re… we’re married. Can you believe it?”

He shakes his head, resting his forehead against hers. “No… it’s… it’s unreal.”

She nuzzles into him a bit. “But it is real, right? I’m not dreaming?”

“If you’re dreaming, please… please never wake up.”

She laughs and kisses him again, then again for good measure.

They arrive at her grandfather’s estate where Grumman has arranged for them to have wedding photos taken. He had wanted to hire a painter but Riza (and everyone in the world, really) had insisted that was both too old fashioned and took too much time.

Getting photos taken is, all things considered, painless. Riza wishes they could spend more time there just because it’s so quiet. Her and Roy, then eventually Aunt Chris and her grandfather join them with Maes and Rebecca.

The intimacy is nice, it’s what she craved for most of the day, and these are the people she wants to spend her wedding day with. 

She and Roy are soon loaded into a car and taken to the space Grumman rented out for their wedding brunch. Riza is nervous to be so firmly planted in the spotlight; even with Roy by her side she can feel the way that people are looking at her.

Rebecca fixes her hair and hugs her tightly before entering the ballroom herself. Maes gives them a thumbs up as he follows the maid of honor.

“Is it too late to go home? Everyone’s here to see Grandfather, not us.”

Roy laughs, “I think a wedding without the bride looks a little suspect. Especially when she was so charming at the ceremony.”

“What would they ever think I’m doing, Roy Mustang?”

“Let’s not find out, Riza Mustang.” He’s teasing, but it’s the first time she’s heard that name. Her new name sounds so sweet coming off his lips.

“Can’t believe my husband is such a tease,” Riza laughs and he melts when he hears her say that.

Before he can say anything else, the pair of them are introduced to their reception. Riza feels herself shaking next to Roy, squeezing his bicep for dear life as they are approached by men who claim to be friends of her grandfather’s. Roy seems to know some of them either by rank or by reputation. She wonders if he studied hard to be able to do that or if he really just is a man who knows nearly everyone.

Eventually they are able to make their way to their friends. Jaqueline and Elizabeth shower her in affection, hugs and kisses punctuated with congratulatory praises. Gracia slips away from Maes to tearfully tell her how beautiful the ceremony was.

Riza gives her a grin. “And it seems like you’re getting quite comfortable with Private Hughes.”

Gracia flushes and swats at her. “Not you too!”

“She’s right, though, it’s almost like you’re smitten,” Rebecca teases, looping an arm with Riza.

“He’s just being nice, it’s his best friend’s wedding,” Gracia claims weakly.

“Uhuh, when’s the wedding?” Elizabeth asks.

“Right now, it’s Riza’s wedding day!” Gracia smiles at Riza. “You look so happy and in love, it’s beautiful.”

“There was not a dry eye in the house! I swear I saw at least three generals sniveling,” Jaqueline chuckles.

“It’s because Roy was the one crying. When men see other men cry it gives them permission to fall apart,” Elizabeth says with a snicker.

“I think it’s sweet,” Gracia admonishes.

“It was very sweet,” Rebecca agrees.

“Am I getting my wife back any time soon?” Roy asks, leaning over from his own conversation.

“No,” Rebecca gives him a bright smile.

“You can have her for the wedding night, it’s our turn,” Elizabeth reiterates.

Roy holds up his hands to signal his retreat. “Just thought I’d ask.”

“Get over here,” Riza smiles gently at him. Roy is utterly weak to her and slinks to her side to give her a kiss.

“Really, I mean, it’s unfair! Look at them!” One of Roy’s friends laughs.

Riza is pulled in for another kiss; Roy is sweet and tender in the midst of his showboating. He’s proving a point, he’s making a statement, and he’s so incredible her heart is going to burst. Their friends cheer and tease around them; Riza feels like she is being held - not by Roy, but by a community of people she loves.

She thinks of herself not even a decade ago, little Riza, terrified of her father and so lonely. A thickness fills her throat as she envisions that girl. She would be beside herself with pride; she imagines that little girl starry eyed and beaming at her. 

Then she wonders what her mother would think of her now. She doesn’t have many memories of her mother. She knows that her mother had a soft voice and was so gentle with her - beyond that… she wonders if her mother would be pleased with her choice of marital partner. She wonders how her mother would feel knowing she is being raised by grandfather. She wonders what her mother would think of the horror she carries on her back.

“I love love! You two are absolutely killing me!” Maes grabs them by the shoulders and squeezes them into his side.

Riza laughs, “You seem pretty alive to me.”

“You’re crushing me,” Roy complains.

Maes pulls away and slaps Roy’s chest. “Don’t pretend like you hate it, you little attention whore.”

Roy looks offended by the assertion but Riza reaches over Maes to steal her husband back.

“I think it’s time for the first dance,” she says with a laugh. He melts in her hand and nods weakly, allowing her to guide him out of Maes’ hold.

“Totally whipped,” one of Roy’s friends mutters as Riza takes her husband to the floor.

It might be true that Roy is absolutely besotted, truly and unadulteratedly infatuated with her, but she is just as ensnared as him. She is sure that anyone who doubted their love has been proven emphatically wrong. There is no looking at them and seeing anything less than devotion in its purest form.

“Mind if I take my turn?” Grumman interrupts their moment as the song ends.

Roy passes her off without a second thought; Riza looks at her grandfather with a sheepish smile.

“I hope you’re not feeling left out,” she chuckles.

“Nonsense, most of the attendees are here for me,” he returns the gesture.

“I meant by me.”

He squeezes her hand. “I know.”

“You like Roy, don’t you?” When he gives a non-committal shrug Riza taps his shoulder. “Come on, you practically hand picked him.”

“He would not have been my first choice, dear, you should know that,” Grumman insists with a laugh.

“But you did pick him.”

“Because you did.”

She fixes him with a playful glare. “Roy is a good man.”

“I’m certain he’ll prove to be, yes. You made it very easy for me to find my protégé.”

“He’s your grandson-in-law, not your protégé.”

“Both, then.” Grumman looks a little put out when the song ends. Riza puts her hands on either side of his face. She sees the sparkle of unshed tears in his eyes and her heart tightens like a fist.

“I’m not lost to you, you know that.”

He nods. “It’s hard to watch my little girl grow up.”

She doesn’t comment on the reality that she is not - in fact - his little girl. Instead she kisses his forehead and smiles at him. She can feel Roy’s presence looming nearby and wants to float back to her husband’s side, but she remains tethered to her grandfather.

“Mom would love him,” Riza says softly.

Grumman’s eyes brighten and he laughs. “Yes, she would.”

Grumman takes her hands and guides her back to her new husband. He sheepishly thanks the General for returning her, and Grumman slaps a heavy hand down on Roy’s shoulder with a laugh. It looks genial; Riza thinks there’s more to it but doesn’t address it.

The rest of the banquet goes by in a blur. There are far too many officers that offer their congratulations - she can’t keep track of them all. Eventually, finally the couple are allowed to leave, and they’re showered in rice as they exit the hall. 

Relief washes over her in swells as they arrive at their hotel for the evening. They’re leaving first thing in the morning for a short honeymoon in a small northern town. Roy has to be back for the start of his alchemy exams, and frankly, Riza doesn’t have much of a desire to be gone too long. Beyond the fact that Elizabeth is getting married in less than two weeks… something feels off. She’s anxious for Roy to pick up Flame Alchemy; perhaps it’s the way that Bradley looked at her through the ceremony but she felt the desperation welling up inside of her.

Their room is set up with a few bouquets and a bottle of wine that Riza is fully intent on ignoring.

“Are you going to shower, dear?” Roy asks, removing his wrist watch.

Riza looks at him and chuckles, “You’re not going to salute your wife?”

He glances at her with wide eyes. “You-... you are such a tease.”

“What’s there to tease?” She asks, clasping her hands behind her back. “You could at least kiss me if you’re not going to get me naked.”

He rolls his eyes though he does approach. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re obsessed with me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Is it so wrong to want to be adored on my wedding day?”

“You’re more than adored,” he says with one hand tracing the line of her dress.

“Besides, I think the price has been paid to unlock the secrets of the universe. Don’t you?” Riza says, unable to meet his gaze.

His hand moves from her back to her chin, tilting her gaze toward his. “Let’s not worry about that for now.”

“Roy-”

“I intend to explore every inch of your body, love, but not like that. Not tonight. Tonight is to celebrate, tomorrow… tomorrow will be for educational purposes.”

“Such a scientist,” Riza teases. She laughs when he hoists her leg into his hand.

“Scientific method says that every test should be replicable. Let me see how many times I can make you come.”

She kisses him, passionate and desperate. She whispers sweet nothings in his ear as he strips her bare. He calls her wife and beloved and everything . She feels cherished and wanted by him. It’s a decadent feeling, it’s stifling and she likes it that way. 

He has her throughout the evening throughout their room. The bed, the shower, the doorway to the bathroom, the desk, just about every inch of the room is used to its fullest potential.

She finds herself watching him that night, spent and sweating as she lies there unable to sleep. Exhausted as she is, she can’t help but take in the sight of her husband beside her. She is now a new woman and he a new man - husband and wife.

She has never been one to imagine the future and she most certainly never imagined herself like this. There’s a small voice in her head that often calls her attention to disaster, but now… now it’s quiet.

She likes the quiet, and she likes laying in the silence beside him. She pecks the side of his head and hopes that nights like these will come more often, even if she’s unable to envision them.

Notes:

The knot is tied! They did it! They're so cute and fucked up!!!! Absolutely nobody is going to hold their undying devotion to one another against them... this will not backfire in anyway... fic over, nothing bad happens XD

In reality I have almost 20 chapters of this fic written it's like I'm depressed or something.... lol this fic ain't going anywhere any time soon.

Chapter 9: Chapter 8

In the morning Roy and Riza race to catch their train. They very nearly slept through their wake up call but they made it just in time. They may be tired but they are able to keep one another awake during the short ride north. Riza holds Roy’s arm as they watch the world go by, chatting idly about nothing of importance.

Their honeymoon will only be a few days. Jacqueline’s family owns a cabin in a small lakeside town that she offered as a bridal shower gift for the couple. Riza and Roy were grateful not to think too hard about it, especially because Roy has been very busy securing their apartment upon returning to the city. He technically graduated from the academy before the wedding but due to his state alchemy track he’s yet to receive his rank. Which is all to say that having the weight of trying to plan a honeymoon removed from their plates was nothing short of a miracle.

Now, as they step off the train, Riza is startled to find herself taken aback by the little village. It’s prettier than her hometown had been, wealthier, more likely to attract tourists - which Riza supposes she is now. It’s odd, she’s never been on a vacation before and it feels strange to be doing so now.

Roy doesn’t seem to be having the same internal conflict as he talks to their driver. A pleasant older man who smiles and ribs him about having such a beautiful wife. Riza tries not to flush every time someone congratulates them on their nuptials. It was easier at the wedding when she knew most of those well wishers had been much more interested in her grandfather than her wedding. These people are interested in her and Roy, some small part of herself still feels like she’s doing something bad - like she’s snuck out of her grandfather’s home and run away with a boy.

Perhaps it’s because she knows her mother did exactly that, but she feels very nearly guilty when she thinks about it.

The cottage is just as darling as the other buildings in town. There are windows with decorative lace-like trim and an almost whimsically sloped roof that makes Riza feel like she may in fact be in a fairytale. While they’re not entirely secluded they do have substantial privacy surrounded by trees and a small walkway leading to the shores of the lake.

It’s breathtaking and it very nearly takes her back to her childhood - a more idyllic version perhaps, but something about this place feels nostalgic. Especially when they find themselves setting up the kitchen with the few things they brought. It reminds her of when he was just a student of her father’s and she was just a lonely little girl.

Soon they are lying in the bed, naked and sweating in the post orgasmic fog, his fingers trace the dark lines of the tattoo. He’s muttering something, almost like an incantation for a spell, if such a thing exists. She rolls onto her stomach and he sits up beside her.

The scratching of a pen and a gentle whisper of unanswered questions. Questions that Riza has long held close to her chest, like what did he mean? How is this connected? She hears him huff in frustration before a kiss lands on her shoulder.

“Do you need anything, dear?”

“I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods then turns to look at him, “Are you okay?” 

He pecks her lips, “Just checking in…”

“Roy-”

“There’s just… a lot.”

“A lot?” She props herself up on her elbows, “What do you mean?”

He tips his notebook towards her, she glances up at him and then down at the page; her features drop at the sight of the image. She’s never seen what exactly her father emblazoned on her back, she knew it was large and intricate; she remembers the buzzing rhythmic pain, the way she barely breathed throughout the ordeal, too frightened of incurring her father’s wrath.

She’s caught glimpses of it in the mirror but she’s never seen it whole. She’s never seen it without the stretch of her skin or reversed in a mirror. She never had a desire to know before now.

This symbol is so detailed, so large, and so dark she can hardly believe it lives on her spine.

“Oh… that’s what you mean,” she mutters.

“Let’s take a break,” Roy says with a small sympathetic smile on his lips. She hates that he looks at her with pity in his eyes, she hates that she might deserve said pity. Her father… the burden of her father’s madness continues to drip through her, it permeates every part of her life. Resentment sits in her throat as she sits up a little further. 

He’s wrapped her up in a blanket and brought her tea by the time she comes back to herself.

“I’m sorry,” Riza sighs. “You must think-”

“I don’t think ill of you, Riza, you know that.” Roy insists, placing one hand on her cheek.

She leans into his touch, “I was… pathetic… letting him do this to me-”

“You are not pathetic, not then and not now,” Roy kneels before her. “You’re so… you trusted him.”

“I didn’t.”

“You feared him then and you had every right to,” he looks at her with a sweet sincerity that makes her stomach tighten.

“He was… so sick then… I could have stopped him but I didn’t.” She feels a swell of emotion building behind her eyes.

Roy’s pulling her into his embrace before any tears truly take shape. “You were scared… you were young and terrified and I don’t blame you for trying to keep the peace. Nobody would.”

Riza pulls herself into a tighter coil on his lap, “I do… I blame me.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he whispers.

“If I’d been braver… if I told him to stop…”

“He could have hurt you.”

The truth is Riza doesn’t know if he would or wouldn’t have hurt her - and perhaps it doesn’t matter - but she has always had the smallest voice in the back of her head calling her a fool. She doesn’t care if she was young, she should have known better, she should have done something. She wouldn’t be burdened with flame alchemy if she could have just tried to stop him.

“I guess it’s no use dwelling on what isn’t real,” she says, bringing a limp hand to his cheek. “Besides… this is real, and I like this.”

She pecks the tip of his nose and he sighs in response. “I know I can’t stop you from thinking anything. But I hope… I hope you know that I have never once thought poorly of you. You are incredible, Riza.”

They settle for a moment and Riza glances back at the symbol. “Have you made any headway on it? Any ideas?”

He glances at the page, “Plenty of ideas, I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Well… you knew my father as an alchemist… where would he have started?”

Roy returns to his bag and procures a few journals, she vaguely remembers one from his time as her father’s student. The notes are faded scribbles about codes and alchemic properties, Riza finds herself taken aback with the realization that she recognizes some of these patterns.

In all their time together Roy and Riza have never worked on alchemy in tandem. When they lived under her father’s roof they worked as a unit on chores and Roy helped Riza with her school work on occasion - but alchemy never came up between them.

Now she sits and reads the uneven text and wonky images with rapt interest, dictating whatever comes to mind. He is, once again, utterly floored by her. 

Roy had assumed that Riza was disinterested in alchemy; he had never once seen or heard of her studying the art with her father. Now, however, with the way she so quickly and so easily recites compounds and techniques from memory Roy suspects there’s more to the story.

They work for most of the day only taking a break for lunch before starting back up again. Roy finds it all thrilling, delving into this uncharted territory of alchemy with the woman he loves. She is focused and attentive, though he does find himself pouting from time to time when his attention seeking tactics prove fruitless.

Most of the day is spent in pursuit of decoding Riza’s tattoo, though the two of them stop for a swim in the lake before the sun sets. 

The next day follows in much the same fashion, long hours spent with the two of them pouring over the intricacies of the tattoo with a short excursion, this time a walk through the forest. They are so focused on work that Riza nearly forgets that part of this whole situation is that they are newlyweds.

It’s not until the third night that they are sat in front of the fire pit watching the sun sink low in the sky that she realizes it. They are holding one another listening to some radio drama when she catches sight of her wedding band glinting in the last spots of sunlight. She pauses and looks at him, almost in surprise.

“Riza?” What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks.

“We’re married,” she says softly, one hand gently falling down his chest.

He smiles, “Yes, we are.”

She pauses, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, “We’re… we’re married.”

He takes her hand and kisses it, “My beautiful wife.”

She kisses him with a reverent sigh, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, we’re here, it’s real.”

She hums against his lips, “My husband… my husband, the Flame Alchemist.”

“Is that what you’ve decided I’ll be?” He chuckles.

“That’s the life I gave you, I’m afraid,” she retorts. “If they make you a bio alchemist after all of this I don’t know what else to say.”

He laughs, “Would you still love me if I become a bio alchemist?”

She kisses the bridge of his nose, “I’ll love you if they kick you out of the military all together, just try not to do that.”

He laces their fingers together and looks into her eyes only to find a deep sincerity there. It makes him feel weightless, like she could carry any burden he bestows upon her.

“Are you ready to try?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, “But we need something to catch a spark.”

She glances around their little campground, she stands and searches for some flint or a particularly dry twig. It’s the height of summer so it’s not too difficult a feat and by the time she returns with the materials he has sketched an alchemy circle into the dirt. He’s muttering about hydrogen and the volatility of manipulating air molecules when she kneels beside him.

“Try not to cause a forest fire,” she implores with a laugh.

He pales just the slightest bit, “I didn’t even think about that!”

She snickers again, “I have the utmost faith in you.” Then she kisses him sweetly, handing him what she’s gathered.

“Maybe you should get back, dear.”

“Nonsense, we’re in this together,” she puts a hand on his shoulder and gestures to the fire pit.

He nods once and then he turns to the fire pit. “Right… well… now or never.”

Riza watches with intense curiosity as Roy completes the transmutation circle, her breath hitches in her throat as the scraping sound gives way to a loud pop. The fizzling of elements clashing as they bend to Roy’s will and then a ricocheting burst of energy that knocks the two of them back. It’s like a firework that pops and hisses but no true flame - still it’s miraculous, a feat unlike any other.

She throws herself on top of him with a shriek, “You did it!”

His arms wrap instinctually around her waist and she can feel him trembling. “N-not quite… but… damn we’re close!”

She sits up and kisses her husband, he kisses her back with equal vigor. The stench of burnt air sticks in her nose but she can’t stop smiling at him.

“You’re brilliant,” she tells him reverently.

He flushes at the praise, “You’re perfect.”

Immediately they scurry back into the house and begin drafting a plan for how to best manipulate the formula. For the first time in her life, Riza understands her father’s obsession with alchemy, the thrill of manipulating the world around them. 

Once they’ve scribbled down their plot Roy pulls her into his arms and onto his lap. His hand snakes up her skirt and she laughs.

“Getting to work again?” she laughs, “Don’t you think you’re due a reward?”

“You’re my reward,” he insists, lapping at her collar bone like an animal dying of thirst.

She huffs, her fingers curling into his hair, “Won’t catch a spark like that, love.”

He laughs, pressing his fingers against her center, “Good.”

She is wet and wanting; the thrill of discovery and the thrill of fumbling through this odd little honeymoon. The rest of the world is locked away far beyond their reach, right now - right here - this and him is all that matters.

She has the smallest blip of an idea, drawing his slickened fingers into her mouth; she’ll have to return to that later. For now she loses herself in him and his touch, in his body, in the parts of him that feel forbidden but she takes so readily.

They try flame alchemy again late into the night, with better results but still not a well formed flame. Then again in the morning and they are closer than ever. It’s not until that last night of their stay that Roy manages to fill the fire pit with a roaring beautiful flame. It’s so warm and bright they both have to close their eyes at the intensity, Roy even shields Riza from the burst with his body.

She is reminded of being thirteen, of sitting in the basement as her father showed her how powerful his creation was. She remembers how he told her to touch it, to feel it burn so that she would know how dangerous it was. She remembers how he instilled such fear in her.

She had wondered then why he spent so long creating something that needed to be feared - but now, from the other side, she sees how incredible it is.

She peeks out from Roy’s side watching the flames die down and curl into a familiar manageable size. When she looks up at her husband she sees the shock on his features, almost like he is stuck trying to comprehend what he’s done. She squeezes him to bring him back down to Earth.

He squeezes her back, lifting her around in a circle as they laugh. This is something spectacular, a feat that has never been accomplished. Roy is capable of the impossible, she knew it all along but to see the proof of it is nothing short of wondrous.

All Roy can think is the same repeating thought she’s safe, we did it and now she’s safe, thank god she’s safe .

Notes:

Happy House Fire Day lads!!!! It's Oct. 3 so have some poignantly relevant flame stuff.

Chapter 10: Chapter 9

Upon their return to Central Roy and Riza find themselves dreading the next few weeks; what with Roy’s alchemy test and all that entails and Elizabeth’s upcoming wedding for which Riza has promised to help plan the bridal shower. Not to mention moving and starting their lives together as a married couple. Considering neither of them have living parents and they haven’t exactly experienced how married couples live with one another… they’re truly going in blind.

Roy and his friends had the place set up before the wedding - hell Roy lived there in the few days leading up to the wedding - but upon arrival Riza realizes how empty it is.

He grimaces slightly at the expression on her face, “I know it’s not much but it’ll get better once I have my certification. State alchemists make enough that I’m sure we could move out of issued housing to a civilian complex-”

“Roy, I like it,” she takes his hand and smiles. “It’s our first home… well, our first home that isn’t falling apart.”

They laugh as they separately recall her father’s old estate; derelict walls with brittle paper and furniture barely hanging on by a thread. Riza wonders sometimes if the estate still stands or if it finally crumbled to rubble.

“It’s easy to forget that you haven’t always been… you know, the general’s granddaughter.”

“I mean… I have always been his granddaughter but this,” she gestures to the room. “Has always been a little more my speed.”

He gives her a goofy sort of smile that makes her melt inside. “I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s going to be a good life, Mustang, doesn’t matter where we live or how - as long as we’re together.”

They share a kiss in the living room and hold one another as if to fill the space with each other.

“I should call my grandfather to let him know we’re home safe,” Riza sighs, pressing her forehead into Roy’s neck.

“Yeah,” Roy agrees reluctantly.

She’s kissing him again before she can stop herself. He’s more than happy to indulge her, in fact, he feels particularly pathetic because he was hoping she’d kiss him. He feels like a puppy vying for her attention, and perhaps he is. After all, he's just a young man trying his damndest to keep his head above water; i.e. not jump his wife’s bones every five minutes.

Which, of course, doesn’t work because he’s married to Riza Hawkeye- er, Mustang and she is nothing short of perfection.

So who would blame them for christening their first home with their marital intimacy? Would anyone blame them for falling into bed over and over again? No, they can’t and they won’t because it is obvious to anyone and everyone that Roy and Riza married for love. A dangerous fact, one they might have taken more care to protect if either of them were any more world wise.

In the weeks that follow their return to Central things don’t slow down. Riza is busy helping Elizabeth with the last minute wedding planning. Erstwhile Roy has his nose to the grindstone preparing for his alchemy exams. He’s understandably nervous about the idea of practicing flame alchemy in their three room apartment but he’s feeling the pressure to impress.

Even before the wedding his fellow alchemy cohort had spent plenty of time belittling his work. Clearly, he’d only made it this far due to the coattails of Master Johannes and now General Grumman. It doesn’t matter that Grumman has almost nothing to do with State Alchemists, Roy’s reputation of competency is on the line.

If he wants to prove his worth he has to pass this exam the first time - a rare thing given that most State Alchemists take years to finish their studies. Many State Alchemists fail their written tests their first time around (not to mention the second… and the third…) and that’s not addressing their practical exams; he’s heard horror stories of people taking the practical portion upwards of five times. Roy isn’t about to become one of those Alchemists, he needs to prove to Grumman and the military and the damned Führer that he deserves this. That he deserves her and the secrets she’s bestowed upon him, that he is a good enough man to provide for her. He has to prove he deserves their trust and an alchemy the world isn’t ready for.

The night before his written exam he is so caught up in his studies he nearly misses the way that Riza is hovering. He is spread out on their living room floor, pouring over his notes and she huffs out a sigh to get his attention.

“You can go to bed, dear, I’ll be up in a bit.” He assures her offering a small smile over his notes.

“I think it’s a little early in our marriage to be hitting me with that one.” She folds her arms and leans on the doorway. He chuckles but doesn’t look away from his notes, which prompts her to sit across from him. “Let me help.”

He hesitates, “I-... I can do this on my own.”

“I know, but you don’t have to.” Riza reminds him kindly, picking up a few of his discarded notes to read.

“Riza-”

“You either come to bed or you let me help, those are your options.” Riza smiles at him.

“You have the rehearsal for Elizabeth’s wedding tomorrow.”

“You’re right and you have your written exams tomorrow, which I do believe means you need your rest.”

He pouts at her, “I want to pass the first time.”

“And you will.”

“Because I’m studying.”

She rolls her eyes, “What’s this about?”

“What do you mean?” He feels his cheeks flush when one of her hands reaches up to cup his jaw.

“Why are you so… you’ve been distant,” she says weakly.

His heart fractures at the sight of her; he remembers that look on her face, the disappointment, the loneliness. She used to look that way when Master Hawkeye kept him from dinner or when he was up long into the night without a break.

“I’m sorry,” he wilts. Then he grabs her wrist and kisses her palm, “I’m not trying to… I just want… I have so much to prove.”

Her fingers curl into his cheek and she hums thoughtfully. “Not to me, never to me.”

“I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to prove I deserve you.”

“To who?”

He pauses, “... everyone.”

“Wrong,” she takes her free hand and pokes his forehead with her finger. “You don’t need to prove a damn thing to me, Roy Mustang. You never did and you never will.”

He looks at her, taken aback at first and then utterly adoring as the words process in his mind. It takes far too long for her liking, however, and she pokes him again - this time his cheek. Then when a grin breaks out across his face she jabs at his ribs until he’s laughing and clutching for her wrist.

“Riza!” He snickers as she gets away with another poke at a particularly ticklish part of his stomach. She shrieks when he finally gets a hold of her wrist and yanks her onto his lap. So much for sleep , Roy thinks as he kisses his wife.

His wife… he will never tire of calling her that, even in the quiet of his mind.

“You need to get to bed, love,” she whispers against his lips.

“You’re right, we should move to the bed.” He hoists her into his arms and stands in one fluid motion, eliciting another mirthful laugh.

“You are ridiculous,” she tells him, wrapping herself tighter around his body.

“We agree on that,” he shifts his hold on her until she is on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back in a bit, just a little more studying and-”

“Is that what we’re calling it now? Studying?” She teases playing with the collar of her night dress.

He looks a bit taken aback, “Riza-”

“There’s alchemy here, you know,” she looks at him without an ounce of shame and it makes him salivate for her.

“Alchemy huh?”

“I’m the blueprint, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than that,” he insists.

“I like being useful,” she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I like being used,” he tells her leaning in for a kiss.

“What a pair we make,” she whispers fondly against his lips. She pulls him back down and he is so weak to her advances that her skirt is bunched up in his hands before he can think it through. Her thighs are so soft and sturdy as he massages them, she practically mewls against his lips.

Her nails scratch lazily from his neck to his chest, removing his shirt is easy and almost second nature. Being under him is becoming second nature too… if she’s honest.

He moves down the length of her body, raking over the vision of her until suddenly she’s flipping onto her stomach.

“I promised you alchemy, didn’t I?” She chuckles.

“You did,” he returns the laugh, hoisting her night dress up and over her head. In the dim light of their apartment he sees the secrets of the universe unfold before him once more. Loving her means loving alchemy, embracing the theories that bring fire into this world. And it burns to touch her, her skin is hot and malleable under his touch. 

He pulses inside of her and reads the words emblazoned on her spine. His fingers shakily tracing the lines he reads so he doesn’t lose his place or his pace. It is so hard to focus with her moaning like that, it’s hard to focus on anything at all when she is so pliant beneath him.

Their fingers intwine and he continues to thrust - uncertain if he’s speaking at all anymore or if he’s become a feral animal. Huffing and humping and begging because this woman is going to kill him.

“Roy,” she whimpers.

He leans in close and kisses her cheek, the rocking of their bed matches in time with the creaking of her voice.

“You’re so beautiful, so beautiful,” he mutters into her temple.

She adjusts her position beneath him, one hand snaking down to stimulate her clit. His hand follows, though his movements are choppier as he tries to focus on his pending climax.

He straightens up again, he continues reading the symbols on her spine as he jerks and writhes inside of her. She’s bliss and beauty, he cannot believe this wonderful woman allows him to worship her like this. He made a promise to worship this body to discover its secrets - he will spend the rest of his life praying at her altar. He is an acolyte, he is devout and reverent, he understands why mythic heroes and gods alike mount wars for women like her.

She laughs when he comes and then she cries when she follows suit. He eases off of her and she whines in response.

“Wait,” she begs breathlessly.

He grabs a discarded shirt from the floor and uses it to wipe her thighs, “I’m still here, love.”

“Come back,” she beckons him to her side.

“Let me get your night clothes,” he kisses the top of her spine and her hand wraps around his elbow.

“No, you’re coming to bed and you can study if you happen to wake up in the middle of the night.” She flashes him a teasing grin over her shoulder and he rolls his eyes.

“Scheming little mouse,” he kisses the junction of her jaw and she sighs.

“I made my intentions clear, private, now get to bed.”

“Yes ma’am,” he curls up in bed beside his wife, lazily tracing patterns along the serpent of her spine.

In the morning he’s well rested and he has a momentary reprieve of ‘last minute study’ wherein his wife in all her naked glory joins him in the shower. All of this to say, it is a bonafide miracle that he makes it to his exams on time - even more of a miracle that he manages to focus on the test at all.

Four hours later time is called and he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. Somehow someway he feels like he’s done it; confidence is not always a friend but today he feels he’s earned it.

“Roy!” Maes is in the academy courtyard waving him down and Roy smirks at him.

“Hughes, aren’t you supposed to be in your office?”

“I get a lunch break every now and then! Don’t be a dick, how’d it go?” Maes slaps his shoulder once they’re close enough.

“Honestly? I’m feeling okay, I think I managed to study the right things,” Roy chuckles.

“Modesty is not your look, Mustang, try again,” Hughes teases. “You’ve got a beautiful wife, aced your written exams on the first try, and are on track to being the youngest State Alchemist in the country’s history. Brag a little.”

“Someone’s jealous.”

“I’d say yes except your wife is an angel and introduced me to the love of my life! How could you have kept Gracia a secret from me for all these months?!” Maes pouts at him.

“You think I notice anyone else when Riza is in the room? I’m just a man,” Roy snickers.

Maes pouts at him with a huff, “Fine, I guess that’s fair.”

“Also you’ve only known her for maybe three weeks. It's a little early to call her the love of your life.” Roy pats Maes’ shoulder.

“She’s the one, she’s perfect in every way and I’m so fucking weak for her man.” Hughes bemoans though his stupid smile betrays him as he whips out a photo of Gracia. “Look at her, are you serious? She’s so beautiful!”

“You just keep that on your person?” Roy asks with a skeptically raised brow.

“If I can’t have her by my side every second of the day this is the least I can do!”

“You’re so weird,” Roy rolls his eyes. “If you were anyone else I’d say this is stalker behavior.”

“Hey, not all of us get married to the first person who gives us the time of day!”

Roy scowls at him, “She was not-”

“Führer Bradley sir!” A few of the other young officers click their heels and salute the towering figure of their nation’s leader as he turns the corner. The Führer walks briskly down the hall prompting Roy and Maes to scamper to the wall and stand at attention.

Without breaking his stride the Führer glances at the boys and smiles. “Afternoon, gentleman.”

“Führer Bradley, sir!” They salute in synch

“At ease, boys, I hope the honeymoon was enjoyable, Private, it was a lovely wedding.” Bradley chuckles fondly.

Roy flushes a bright crimson, “Uh-... yes sir.”

“I take it you just finished your exam? Best of luck to you, I hope to see your alchemy in full force - it’s your first chance to prove yourself to the upper brass, after all.”

“Yes, sir,” Roy feels his palms sweating as he nods curtly.

“Private Hughes is that right?” Führer Bradley turns to Maes who makes a sound like he’s holding in a scream.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve just received your deployment papers, isn’t that right?”

Roy looks at Maes in horror as the man nods, “Yes, sir, that’s correct.”

“Good luck out there Private, the Eastern front needs all the help they can get.” Führer Bradley claps Maes’ shoulder as he returns to his previous route.

“Sir!” Roy and Maes both salute as their leader disappears down the hall.

Once he’s out of sight Roy grabs Maes’ bicep, “Hughes is he serious? You’re getting deployed to Ishval?!?”

“Keep it down will ya?” Maes hushes him.

“When!? When were you going to tell me?” Roy asks harshly.

Maes swats at him again, “I was planning on it I promise! It’s only been a week since I got my orders, Charlie and Danis got them too, we don’t leave until the end of the month.”

Roy raises a hand to his forehead, “God… Hughes-”

“We’re soldiers, Roy, soldiers go to war, don’t tell me you’re surprised.” Maes looks at him wearily, there’s hurt in his eyes, or maybe not hurt but something close to it.

“But you haven’t even been out of the academy for a month, they can’t just… it’s so soon.”

“Yeah well… from what I hear the war isn’t going well out there. They need all the help they can get like Bradley said. It’s pretty horrible.”

Roy nods once, “So you ship out at the end of the month… at the risk of bringing it up, does Gracia know?”

More shame crosses his face, “No… I haven’t… it’s so new.”

“You have to tell her.”

“Coming from you I find that laughable, you didn’t tell Riza what was going on for months.”

“I didn’t have a time limit.”

“Liar.”

Roy huffs, he knows Maes’ is right, but it stings all the same. “You’ll just have to make the most of your time left I guess… but you have to tell her soon, because I’m telling Riza and she will tell Gracia if you don’t.”

Maes pouts, “I thought it would be fun having our wives be best friends.”

“You’re not married yet, Hughes.”

“Don’t remind me!”

Roy laughs because it’s easy to laugh even when it hurts. He knows that war is a part of being a soldier, helping people sometimes means hurting others, but he can’t help the trickle of fear that runs down his spine at the thought of Maes Hughes on the front lines.

In spite of what he said, Roy doesn’t have the heart to tell Riza that Hughes is being deployed. She just looks at him so stunningly, so sweetly, she beams at him as she demands the details of his exam and he can’t help but rise to her excitement. They embrace with her sweet words washing over him:

“I knew you could do it.”

A week later she’s proven right when the results come out, Roy places in the top ten of his peers, which has him moving on to the practical exams. He’s riddled with nerves but one look at her and he knows it will all be fine. He is her husband, he will spend his life proving his devotion, proving his worth to her. The first step of that is showing her his mastery of flame alchemy - the art and science carved into her skin.

He still feels sick when he thinks about it; her father was harsh but he didn’t think him cruel. Granted, he’d only had a few months of time spent with the man while she had nearly fourteen years. Cruelty is, perhaps, a beast that hides particularly well.

Regardless, he finds himself unable to sleep the night before the practical exam, his eyes burn with symbols and arrays. When their alarm goes off he smacks it before it can finish one cycle of ringing.

Riza is still curled into his side and, try as he might, he can never seem to sneak out of bed without rousing her. Delicately, he shifts out of her hold and sits on the side of their bed. Then he feels a tug on his shirt that has him holding in a sigh.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reaching over to brush her tousled hair from her eyes. She hums softly before opening her eyes.

“Roy-”

“Go back to sleep, I’m just going to take a shower.” He pecks her forehead and rises from the bed.

She mutters something incomprehensible as he scurries to the bathroom. He tries his best to slick his hair back and appear to be the clean cut soldier a State Alchemist should be. He sighs when he returns to their bedroom only to find the bed made, the kitchen sounds alive too and it makes him roll his eyes.

“You know you don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn with me, right?” Roy asks entering the kitchen and kissing his wife’s cheek when he’s close enough.

“It’s a big day and besides we’re going together.” She looks over her shoulder at him with a grin.

“What do you mean?” Roy asks with wide eyes.

“Grandfather invited me to watch the practical exams. Apparently the upper brass have an open invitation to view them.” She says, her shoulders sink at the sight of his expression. “Oh don’t look at me like that.”

“You didn’t say you were coming,” his voice is suddenly tight with nerves.

“It was a last minute decision,” she assures him.

“Riza-”

“I have a gift for you if you want to be a little less pouty.” She smiles at him, trying to weasel her way out of a confrontation, minor as it might be.

“Just let me say that you don’t have to come first,” Roy sighs.

“Noted,” she pulls a plain box with a green bow out from one of the cabinets and hands it to him.

“What’s this?”

She shrugs, “Open it and find out.”

He smirks at her as she returns to the eggs she was cooking. He delicately releases the bow and puts the ribbon on the counter. When he opens the box his jaw drops and his eyes widen as he looks at the contents of the package.

Two pristine white gloves with the alchemic array for flame alchemy stitched in stark red thread stare back at him. He reaches in to touch the fabric and gasps just the slightest bit at the rough texture. His gaze shoots back towards Riza and she smiles at him from the stove.

“You kept saying that you worried about getting a spark and… well the fabric was perfect so…”

The box is flung onto the counter and his wife is scooped into his arms within half a second.

“Roy!”

“You are so… so incredible, Riza.” He kisses her deeply, threading his fingers into her hair. “So incredible, so perfect… I love you so much.”

She chuckles against his lips, “I hope that means you’re not nervous anymore, soldier. We’ve worked too hard to get you here.”

He’s kissing her again and again because, really, he cannot fathom how he would be able to function without her. He cannot begin to express the depth of his admiration for her, how deeply he loves her, how devoted he is. How much he will never be able to repay her.

“You’re going to make me burn breakfast,” she tells him. “The only one of us burning anything should be you. Try them on by the way, I had to make a few guesses with measurements and I’ve never made gloves before.”

He doesn’t want to let go of her but he does in order to try on the gloves. His fingers don’t quite fill the fabric and the seams are thick against his skin, but they’re absolutely perfect because she made them.

“Don’t you look put together,” she smiles as she finishes their meal. “Make sure they don’t get wet, that would be horribly embarrassing.”

He laughs and delicately removes the gloves, folding them neatly before putting them in his pocket. They share a quick breakfast, Roy’s nerves have abated some but he still feels the pounding anxiety in the back of his head. He wants to call a car but Riza thinks that’s a stupid idea and insists they walk to the Command Center.

As ever before, he is completely at her mercy and he feels his throat tightening with pride when he looks at her. All of this is for her, he will not fail at the last hurdle.

---

Riza kisses Roy one last time before he disappears into the Command Center. She waits for only ten minutes before her grandfather comes to collect her.

“It’s been too long, young lady! Almost a whole month without you coming to see me for dinner!” He chastises her as he guides her into the viewing hall.

“I’ll put you on the calendar, hopefully things will slow down after today.”

“So you expect him to fail?” Grumman teases.

“Something like that,” she smirks at him.

The hall in which the practical exams are being held is a large barren room. Some soldiers are setting up tables with components but other than that it’s an unassuming empty space. She and Grumman enter a room that overlooks the hall, the banisters are reminiscent of a finely crafted balcony and Riza briefly wonders if it’s safe to have no barriers between onlookers and alchemists.

“Mrs. Mustang, a pleasure to see you as always,” Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong smiles at her. “Catherine sends her regards and hopes you’ll continue to visit her as time allows.”

“I have every intention of phoning, I hope you’ll tell her I said hello in the meanwhile.” Riza smiles as Armstrong bows to her.

“Of course,” he nods, leaning in a bit closer to her. “The wedding was lovely, ma’am, I take it your time in the north was a delight?”

“It was a dream, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it, of course, and General Grumman, you must be glad to have her back.”

“Brief as it may be,” Grumman gives an exaggerated chuckle.

Behind Armstrong she can see the Führer shaking another General’s hand - she vaguely recognizes General Lewis but can’t be certain that it’s him. She feels her stomach clench when Bradley starts walking towards her and her grandfather.

“Well, what a nice surprise, if I had known you were coming, I would have invited my wife along.” Führer Bradley ignores the salutes of the men around him and Riza feels vaguely disquieted by it.

“Roy spent all week trying to convince me not to come, I didn’t decide until last night.” She assures him with a bit more confidence than she had anticipated given it’s a boldfaced lie.

“I’ll have to implore you to send a letter to my wife sometime, she does dote on you, you know.” He laughs fondly.

“I appreciate how much she cares, sir, I hope you both had a lovely time at the wedding.” Riza squeezes her grandfather’s arm as an almost cry for help.

“A splendid time, you two are clearly made for each other.” Bradley glances towards the overlook, then holds out his arm to Riza. “Why don’t you and I take a seat together Mrs. Mustang?”

She wants to say no but she is far too smart for that, “Of course, sir, thank you.”

Riza walks to the edge of the balcony and sits beside the Führer. A few of the alchemy recruits have arrived and Roy is among them, tugging on his gloves and biting his lip nervously.

“You must be so proud of your husband, Mrs. Mustang, so young and yet so accomplished already.” Bradley rests his elbows on the railing, watching the yard like a shepherd watches their flock; or perhaps, more aptly, a scientist watching his test subjects milling about.

“Very proud, sir, he’s an incredible young man,” Riza says, uncertain where to look as the rest of the recruits pile into the room.

“Indeed he is, I look forward to watching his career blossom in the next few years.” Bradley turns to look at her, almost appraisingly. “I must admit, I’m surprised at how readily your grandfather agreed to your union. He’s always been more of a stubborn sort and very protective of you.”

Riza nods once, “I think he likes Roy, though he’d never admit it… and well… I love him.”

“Love, yes, I can see that. You trust him to a great degree, don’t you?” The Führer’s voice takes on a note of teasing, like he’s toying with her, or worse yet, mocking her.

“Yes, sir,” she says, refusing to meet Bradley’s gaze.

“Which I imagine is why you feel your father would have approved of him.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Forgive me for speaking in code, I meant to say that your father would have approved of your marrying his student.” Riza’s stomach drops to her feet as she chances a glance at the Führer. Bradley is smirking at her. “Brief as that little apprenticeship was, it will be telling how dedicated a student he is - wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sir-”

“Keeping secrets is a dangerous game, Mrs. Mustang, try not to forget that I have allowed you to do so for this long out of the goodness of my heart. I won’t soon forget what it took to end that streak.” Bradley turns his attention back to the exam. “Or rather, who it took to break you.”

Riza’s gaze falls back to where Roy is standing in front of a jury of alchemists eagerly waiting to see his chosen specialty. Roy takes a deep breath and then one of the practice dummies is engulfed in flame - a powerful burst of white hot energy reduces the mannequin to ash. Just as quickly as the fire began, it’s over, demonstrating Roy’s complete control over his element.

She looks back over at the Führer and feels a scream bubbling in the back of her throat. He looks at Roy the way that he has always looked at her - interested, curious, hungry. Bradley wears the expression of a predator that has cornered his unsuspecting prey and she feels ill.

All this time she’s been an object of desire, something that everyone wanted a piece of. She had been resolute, strong in her resolve that she would carry the weight of expectation the way she carried her father’s research; quietly, thanklessly, stoically. 

She had wanted to share the weight of her father’s curse but now she sees the truth. She and Roy are not sharing the burden, he is carrying it squarely on his shoulders, loudly and obstinate so that everyone can see him. She threw him a lit bomb and he is carrying it like a trophy, like it’s something to be proud of. The Flame Alchemist, the first of his kind, the youngest State Alchemist in history. She has all but carved his tombstone with her bare hands, she has condemned him, she has led him to his ruin. 

Roy looks relieved as he returns to the line up of shocked looking recruits.

“He’s a fine soldier, we’re lucky to have him.” The Führer pats her shoulder, she doesn’t flinch but she wants to. “Oh, I hope you’ve had time to wish Private Hughes well on his deployment to the East. He was your husband’s best man, after all.”

She feels another punch to the gut with this revelation - it’s not just Roy she’s damned, it’s his friends too. She has cast her light on those around her, brought them attention and ruin on the stage set by Bradley himself. Like he knew all along she would be unable to contain what lies in the depths of her heart. Like he knew that she would love so boldly and so loudly after spending so much time in isolation that he could easily cast her loved ones in this tragedy he wrote.

She hears the echo of her grandfather’s words then: I cannot express how little Bradley cares for the lives of others.

She looks at the other recruits, she wonders how many of them will follow Roy into hell. She wonders what the extent of the carnage will be and how much of the blame will be hers.

“You were right, dear, that husband of yours is something special,” Grumman’s hands are on her shoulders and he sounds relieved. She supposes he is, she will avoid the direct punishment for harboring Flame Alchemy all these years - but Roy will not.

She wonders if Roy will ever forgive her for what she’s done. She’s not certain she will ever forgive herself.

Notes:

Me: I should take some time off from writing after whumptober!

Also me: ... it's been four days that's long enough - I swear I'm like a junkie looking for my next fan fic fix... anyway back to the plot we go lads! Hope you enjoyed it!!!

Chapter 11: Chapter 10

Roy’s deployment papers come through exactly a week after his State Alchemy certification arrives. Riza is unsurprised but her heart still lodges in her throat when she sees the look in Roy’s eyes that night. She knows, he doesn’t have to speak on it because she knows and it makes her insides solidify.

He holds her every night, coiling around her figure like he can keep the rest of the world at bay. She knows he can’t but she wishes he could. Maes left for the front before Roy got his official promotion to Major - Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong left well before then. It feels as though everyone is receiving deployment orders these days.

As it stands, the couple only have a week left with one another. They’ve attended a few small gatherings with their friends to say goodbye and wish him luck. Now they’re visiting her grandfather for dinner, she promised Grumman weeks ago they would although now she wishes she hadn’t. Selfishly, she wants to be alone with Roy until the moment his train leaves the station, even if that is a ridiculous idea.

“Major Mustang, good to see you,” Grumman shakes Roy’s hand once he enters the front hall.

“Thank you for having us, sir.”

“Of course, of course, Riza dear, I’ve missed you!” Her grandfather kisses her cheek and she manages a smile.

“I only live ten minutes away.”

“You lived under the same roof as me for the past four years, I’m entitled to my melancholy.”

She laughs, “Oh yes, that’s what I’d call it.”

“Amenable as always, dear, I know that you’ve been busy with your new life, but don’t go forgetting about me.”

“I could never,” she assures him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I’m surprised that the two of you have stayed in Wallace so long - I assumed you’d be chomping at the bit looking for a new apartment once Roy here got his certification.” Grumman leads the two of them to the dining room.

“Well, we started looking for a new place but I insisted we stay until Roy leaves, nobody wants to move just before deployment.” Riza tells him and Roy bites back a snicker.

“She’s still looking for a place that allows pets,” Roy teases.

“Oh boy, good luck Major, she’s wanted a puppy for as long as I’ve known her.” Grumman laughs.

Dinner quickly becomes a discussion of political and military agendas (one in the same really, but that is neither here nor there). Grumman likes to challenge Roy and Roy likes to be challenged, Riza keeps up well - she and her grandfather have had similar discussions over the years. Though he does seem to enjoy pushing Roy further than he ever did with her.

“So you agree then, mobilizing a majority of the Capital's forces is tactless and baseless?” Grumman poses the question.

“Well, not in so many words, and besides there has to be something for us to do,” Roy retorts with a shrug.

“An army’s no good without its wars, hm?”

“I think the army could do plenty of good without a war, keeping the peace is more important than all that.”

“I think that’s why I’m the General, Major,” Grumman chuckles into his wine.

“I suppose you’re right,” Roy winces nearly imperceptibly.

“Though we’re both going to be proving something soon,” Grumman laughs bitterly.

Roy straightens a bit, “I… I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Why not?” Riza asks.

“Well, I… heh… I just… um…”

“You didn’t tell her,” Grumman narrows his gaze at Roy.

“Sorry, sir,” Roy looks down at his plate in shame.

“Tell me what?” Riza asks.

Grumman sighs, “Nothing, dear.”

“You can’t say that, not when you’ve implied something horrible has happened.” She protests, throwing a look back at her grandfather that makes them look more related than ever before.

Grumman rubs his forehead, “You really are just like your mother.”

“Guess we were raised in the same way,” Riza responds blithely.

“I told your husband to tell you before dinner so we could avoid such unpleasantness.” Grumman focuses on the meal in front of him. “I am being deployed to the Southeast in two weeks time. Not the front lines, I’ll be in a more bureaucratic role, but I’ll be there for the next two years.”

Riza’s heart drops to her feet, her breath stills in her chest, “Two years?”

“Or until the war ends,” Grumman does not look at her. If she knew him any less she might think he was ashamed - but General Grumman is not a man who wears shame. No, instead he looks frustrated, upset that he even has to mention any of this.

“And you were going to make my husband tell me instead of doing it yourself?” She bites back the next comment that blooms in her mind; you are a cowardly man, especially when it comes to the women you claim to love.

“You know that I hate to see you upset, dear.”

“I wouldn’t be so upset if you were more forthcoming about these things. I’m not a child,” Riza snips at him.

“You certainly act like it,” Grumman responds cooly.

Riza returns her gaze to her own plate, she swallows another snarky comment. The quiet that ensues is stifling.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Major, don’t piss her off unless you’re willing to face the consequences,” Grumman jests limply.

“I fear I am also in the doghouse… which is why we should probably get a dog.” Roy manages to laugh.

“Well, I’m sure the canine units know a breeder.”

Riza says nothing for the rest of the meal and insists that she and Roy leave right after. Roy isn’t in a position to argue (even if he wanted to, it's not a worthwhile fight and he knows that) so they promptly say their goodbyes. Grumman insists they take the car, Riza says her head hurts and she wants to walk… they end up taking the car.

It’s a silent and agonizing drive, Roy doesn’t even try to say anything as he’s not exactly keen on having Grumman’s driver be able to report back. He does, at one point, take her hand and she allows him to lace their fingers together - though she does not tear her gaze away from the window.

Once they’re back home Roy hesitantly offers to make tea.

“You can do what you like,” Riza says, slipping off her shoes and doggedly refusing to look at him.

“Riza-” Her cold hard stare makes his throat tighten, “I-... I’m sorry I should have told you-”

“No, he is a grown man, he can do it himself,” she insists, wrapping her arms around her middle. Roy notices the sparkle of tears in her eyes half a second too late. “It’s just… everything’s my fault… It’s all my fault and it always is.”

Roy feels his confused expression morph into one of total shock. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Maes and Danis and Charlie and now my grandfather are all being deployed and it’s my fault!” She is suddenly sobbing and Roy isn’t sure if he should hold her or if that would make it worse.

“No, Riza, that’s not true,” Roy claims though he is still trying to break the spell of how jarring it is to see her in a state like this.

“Yes it is he-... he said-... and I-... I couldn’t… I’m so sorry,” she collapses onto the sofa, her face landing in her hands as she weeps.

Roy kneels in front of her, “Honey, look at me, please.”

She shakes her head, “I can’t-... I did this to you how am I-”

“Sweetheart, try to breathe,” Roy shifts from kneeling to sitting beside her, gathering her in his arms. “Where is this coming from?”

Her hands move to cover her mouth, Roy sits and waits, his arms tightening their hold around her shoulders.

Eventually she mutters a phrase that gives him pause: “Bradley told me so.”

Roy allows those words to settle in his mind before he poses another question. “He told you what?”

“At your exam he… he told me… told me about Maes and he told me he was… he was angry I’d kept him… that I’d kept my father’s research and- and- he knew… knows-”

“Slow down, slow down,” Roy tries to placate her.

“It’s my fault you’re being sent to the front! It’s my fault that grandfather and Maes and all of your friends are-”

“Riza, please, stop it!” Roy doesn’t mean to raise his voice but she is trembling and hyperventilating and he is terrified for her.

“Roy, I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, I joined the military long before I knew about your father’s research. My friends, your grandfather… we all joined the military knowing that deployment is not only possible but likely.” Roy insists, shifting his hands from her shoulders to her flushed cheeks. “You didn’t cause this, you didn’t start the war, soldiers go to war, that's what we do.”

“If I… if I hadn’t given you my father’s secrets-”

“We might have been in more trouble.”

“It would have been my burden to carry.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“If you get hurt I’ll never forgive myself,” she admits with a trembling sob.

“And if you had kept flame alchemy a secret your life would have been in danger. It would have killed me to meet you in Ishval, Riza. If you were sent to the front lines for disobedience it would have destroyed me.” Roy feels the thickness of emotion clawing at his throat. “I was already enlisted, already planning to become an alchemist - all State Alchemists are being sent to the front and I’m no different.”

Her voice sticks in her throat as she looks at her husband. He looks at her so tenderly even through the watery blur of her tears.

“I feel like I handed you a loaded gun and told you to shoot yourself. I gave you a curse and treated it like a gift - I’m so sorry.”

“None of that,” he wipes a few tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “Your father made a weapon, I don’t know what else to call it. He made an alchemy that is inherently dangerous and destructive. He wanted it to exist but he didn’t want anyone to use it - to top it all off he burdened you with the sole responsibility of carrying it. That wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it’s not your fault.”

What she doesn’t say: I should have been strong enough to face the consequences of keeping my father’s alchemy a secret. I should have never made it so obvious that you are the most precious person in the world to me. You are being punished for what I’ve done, you will continue to bear the weight of my rebellion.

I should have never given you his research.

“I’m going to be fine,” Roy continues, completely unaware of the turmoil within her, “I’m going to get through this war and I will come home. Your grandfather is unlikely to see any action and Maes is strong - we will all survive. I promise, I’ll come back to you. Please believe that.”

She leans forward until his lips are on her forehead, “Is the war going to end soon? Or…”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“Don’t go,” those two words are whispered so softly it’s like they are barely words at all. They are so feeble and meek, vulnerable even, that she can’t believe they came from her mouth. She’s embarrassed she even said them.

“I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have to leave… but I’d rather it be me and not you.”

“And what if I feel the same way?” She looks at him with big watery brown eyes and it fractures his heart. “What if I wish it were me and not you?”

He kisses her instead of speaking because what he’s thinking would make her slap him: it can never be you, it wouldn’t kill me if you were sent to war, it would make me a monster .

The truth of it is that he knows he can handle what he must face, and sure, Riza is strong and willful enough to do the same. But if she were ever to see those things… the war in the East specifically, if she were ever hurt on the field of battle he knows he would go insane, he knows he would lose his humanity.

She threads her fingers into his hair and kisses him like she might suck the life out of his body. For all he knows she is, he’s often wondered if she is a witch or something similar. She can so easily overtake him, every waking thought, every motive he has revolves completely around her. He is nothing without her, he is nothing if not utterly devoted, he would go mad for her - will go mad for her, if he isn’t already. 

His hand creeps under her skirts and before they know it they’re half naked. Him lapping between her legs and her with a fistful of his hair clutched in her hand. He has learned the rhythm of her body in the few short months of their marriage, but now more than ever before, things feel urgent. Like they are running out of time, and yes, he refuses to acknowledge how true that is.

He’s wondered about the front in Ishval, he’s heard rumors that the violence is staggering and the list of casualties only grows by the day. He would be stupid not to at least wonder what would happen if the worst was to come to fruition. The likelihood of injury is high even for a State Alchemist, injury he can handle, death however… he can’t do that to Riza, he can’t leave her a widow before she’s even twenty.

He’s resolved not to die but he’s thought about it, he worries for his friends and for himself. Most of all he worries about Riza and what it means to leave her alone for god only knows how long. He thinks about her crying like this without him by her side to comfort her and it forms a hard ball of guilt inside of him.

He holds her every night before he leaves and keeps her as close to his heart as is physically possible. He kisses her at every opportunity, she is never out of his sight because he is trying to remember every part of her before he’s gone from her side. It’s hard to believe they’ve only been in one another’s lives for a year (since reconnecting, of course) and he cannot imagine life without her.

Life without Riza is no life at all, so he will go to war and he will fight to protect her peace. He will go to war and he will come back to her - that’s all he can do.

---

The stale smoky air of the train station has never been Riza’s favorite. Rebecca and Elizabeth have always said they love it because it means they were going home for the holidays (to the south and east respectively), but to Riza it’s always a stiff stale taste. It makes her nervous and now more than ever, it makes her a bit sad.

She’s fussing with Roy’s uniform, the collar of his jacket, the unruly strands of his hair, the stars on his shoulders-

The whistle sounds and all the other soldiers saying goodbye to their loved ones start heading to their cars.

“Please be careful,” she implores him one more time, taking his hands in hers and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“I’ll be home soon, I know it,” Roy promises, pulling her in for a proper kiss. She lingers against his lips longer than she should.

“I’ll write everyday.”

“I will too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

The whistle blows again and Roy is grabbing his bag, he kisses Riza one last time before rushing to catch the train. Riza’s chest aches as she watches him board the train, she stays right where she is until she cannot see him anymore.

Then and only then does she raise a hand to her cheek, tears leaking onto her fingertips.

She’s not a religious woman, she was never raised with any sort of belief system besides the philosophical principles of alchemy. Now, however, she finds herself praying - a desperate plea to bring her husband home safe and sound.

“He’ll be back, Roy’s strong, he’ll come back.” Gracia says gentle as ever, handing her a neatly pressed handkerchief.

Riza nods, her voice wobbling in her throat, “I know…”

“I know it’s not the same, but when Maes left… It was hard the first few days but it gets better.” Gracia promises.

“I know… you’re right,” Riza looks to her friend with a weak smile.

“You still up to look at that apartment I mentioned? It might take your mind off of… this.” Gracia says.

Riza takes one last longing look at the train disappearing from the station.

“Yeah, let’s do that… Rebecca is meeting us for lunch, right?”

Gracia nods, looping her arm with Riza’s as she leads them away from the station and towards a café. Rebecca is there waiting with coffees and a sweet yet solemn smile. She doesn’t ask about Roy beyond ensuring he got off ok; instead she divulges the office politics of her new job. As a secretary, she apparently hears all the gossip and has a hundred opinions already.

Riza appreciates that her friends have taken the time out of their day to make sure she doesn’t wallow. Her chest still hurts but she’s grateful to not be entirely alone. Rebecca has to get back to work but Gracia takes Riza to a little apartment complex owned by an aunt of hers.

The building itself is beautiful, red brick and built in the old style with bay windows lining the left side. The street is busy but not as busy as the heart of the city, and there’s a little park a short walk away.

Gracia’s Aunt is delightful if a little overzealous about the property, she talks at length about the newly renovated space and how the open layout is very popular these days.

“And of course, it’s perfect for a growing family.”

Riza flushes with embarrassment as she quickly corrects her, “Oh no, I’m not expecting. Not yet, anyway.”

“Well I saw the photos in the papers, you two are a handsome couple, I’m sure you’ll be having children sooner than you think.”

It’s an unintentional punch to the gut and Riza swallows the sadness well.

“Actually my husband just deployed to Ishval, so I’m afraid it won’t be anytime soon.”

Gracia gives her Aunt a sharp look and says something pointed. Riza doesn’t hear it, she’s too distracted by the natural light streaming into what would be the living room. 

She imagines a large plush sofa on one side and a tall bookshelf against the far wall. Then she pictures a dog weaving between her legs as she maneuvers around the kitchen and Roy sitting at the breakfast nook trying to set up a radio. She’s never really thought about it before, but now her mind conjures up the image of two children with dark hair and brown eyes running from room to room.

Two children, she decides, at least two - she had always romanticized the idea of having a sibling of her own growing up, she’d like her own children to have that. She can’t deny the thought is appealing, sweet little ones that call her and Roy mama and papa. Her heart is hurting again as she turns to the bickering pair behind her.

“How much for a down payment?”

---

Riza finally swallows her pride a few days later and calls her grandfather to let him know about the move. He’s delighted to hear from her, though she is half convinced he already knew - given she filed with the military housing office her notice of vacancy. He insists on paying movers to help with her things and she lets him since this is the closest to an apology she’ll get.

Elizabeth and Gracia help her with furnishing and decorating the place. Jaqueline turns out to be fairly handy and takes point on building the bookshelf as well as the dresser. Rebecca is more than happy to bring by take-out at the end of her work day. Before Riza knows it she has a beautifully furnished space to call home.

It gives her pause to see this space come to life, she picked so much of it thinking about Roy and what it will be like when he’s home. She realizes that he has probably reached his first base by now, she wonders when his first letter will arrive…

“Riza, do you want red or white?” Rebecca holds up two bottles of wine from the fridge.

“Uh… whatever everyone else is having.” Riza quickly finishes placing the new dishes on a drying rack.

“Come on, hurry up, we have to toast to your new life!” Elizabeth chuckles.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Riza laughs.

“Of course you wouldn’t, we’re what? Four months post-grad and you’ve got an incredible life already! Come on, give yourself some credit,” Elizabeth bumps her shoulder against Riza’s.

“Perfect husband who got a huge promotion right out the gate, a beautiful new apartment, and some of the best friends a girl could ask for.” Jaqueline takes the freshly poured glass of wine and hands it to Riza. “You’re living the dream.”

Riza clinks her glass with Jaqueline’s, “Something like that.”

“It’s not perfect but it is lovely,” Gracia smiles at her sympathetically.

“Congrats to both new brides and to the new place!” Rebecca raises her glass, “A toast, ladies!”

Riza clinks her glass with her friends and smiles as she takes it all in. She misses her husband, of course she does, but she’s grateful to not be alone. She will always be grateful so long as she has someone she loves nearby - she will never forget the isolation she felt as a little girl in the country wondering what life in an orphanage would be like.

“So Gracia are you seeing anyone new?” Elizabeth asks.

“Hm? Oh no… I… I’m still writing to Maes.” Gracia blushes as she buries her nose into her wine.

“Aw, how is he?” Jacqueline asks.

“He’s doing well, and he’s so attentive in his letters. He… I don’t know, I like writing him.”

“You’re absolutely darling!” Rebecca coos, “God I wish I had a beau, everyone in my office is either geriatric or rude.”

“Well maybe Vincent can introduce you to a friend of his.” Jacqueline says.

“Oh so that’s going somewhere? You and Vincent?”

“It’s going… somewhere alright,” Jaqueline says coquettishly.

“Or maybe Leon can introduce you to someone in his cohort, since the town’s bleeding military recruits a doctor may be the way to go.” Elizabeth chuckles.

“I will take any and all help.” Rebecca laughs.

Riza has little to add to the conversation but she’s happy to be included nonetheless. They drink, they chat, and Riza is so grateful - now more than ever - for the companionship of her friends.

The next day she invites her grandfather to see the place, he is as enthusiastic as ever squeezing her to his side and kissing her forehead.

“You did a lovely job setting all of this up, dear, though you could have asked for help.” He tells her as they sit in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

“The girls helped me and it was really no trouble,” she sips her coffee slowly. “Besides, you’re preparing to deploy, I’m sure you’ve been busy getting your affairs in order.”

He raises his brows briefly, humored by her candid approach. “You’re still upset with me, then.”

“I didn’t say that,” she insists. “I understand that… it’s uncomfortable… and with Roy leaving just before you… I won’t lie and say I wasn’t hurt - but I would have been hurt either way.”

I wish you loved me the way I need you to.

“I’m sorry, truly I am,” Grumman reaches over and pats her hand. “I’ve never been particularly good at emotions or parenting. We’re all just trying our best and I’ve always put my best foot into my work.”

She nods, she surrounds herself with people like that, intentionally or not; her father, her grandfather, even her own husband - they put their work first. Maybe one day she’ll be put first. It is with this realization that Riza (for the first time in a long time) feels a connection to her mother.

Her mother who put her husband first and followed him into isolation, her mother who was fathered by Grumman and pushed into running away, her mother who was so often put on a pedestal and told to stay there. Her poor mother who was abandoned and her poor mother who died too young.

She is startled by how similarly her life is taking shape. She hopes… she hopes the cycle stops soon.

“Have you got your affairs in order then?” Riza manages to ask through the fog of her unease.

“I do, the house will be closed up but if you need anything at all I have Mrs. Baird’s number for you.” He hands her a small leather notebook with a variety of numbers, addresses, and codes.

She smirks at it, “You better write to me.”

“Yes ma’am, and I’ll call when I can.”

She nods, “Good.”

There’s a heavy silence between them for a few moments, a palatable awkwardness that neither of them will address. Riza knows, because of course she does, that Grumman is being deployed because of her. Well, in part, he has done as Bradley required of him, now he is free to fuck off - sending him to the same hell as her husband is an added bonus.

“You’ll… if you could… keep tabs on Roy where you can… I’ve heard from other wives that it’s hard for their husbands to write consistently-”

“Consider it done,” Grumman smiles at her.

“Thank you… and you stay safe too, I’m not keen on planning funerals,” she gives an airy laugh.

“Then I won’t inconvenience you, heaven help the man who does.” Grumman returns the laugh before patting her leg. “Let’s change the subject to happier things.”

Riza nods as Grumman begins to go into the tales of his secretaries who are so fond of her. She tells him about her friends’ lives and how much she loves her new life here. They don’t address the somber reality of their pending goodbye.

Riza prefers it that way, Grumman is a secretly sentimental man and so is she. There have been too many changes lately and she just wants… she just wants something to stay the same.

Notes:

Stumbled my way through this chapter but I like how it turned out. These two losers are really in it now guys.

Chapter 12: Chapter 11

The first letter she receives from Roy is not long at all, it’s scratchy penmanship and a swift checklist of the essential updates (i.e. his safety, his location, and how much he misses her). She is still happy to receive any update at all so she pours over a letter of her own, nearly four pages detailing their new apartment, her new life, and her well wishes. She encloses another pair of ignition gloves as he briefly mentioned he never takes them off - even when he goes to bed at night - and a photo of the view of Central from their apartment.

She sends the letter with a bubble of anxiety in her chest, worried he won’t receive it or some other ridiculous fiasco will interfere with its arrival.

Five days later she receives another letter from Roy, this one much more detailed and much more like him. He gets a rest day every four days he’s in the field and she commits that schedule to memory.

She sees her grandfather off at the station when his deployment day comes. She implores him to look after himself and to write her when he can. He promises to come home - she hates that she believes him more than she did Roy.

Central City’s military presence is sparse to say the least, it’s like the place was bled dry of personnel. The lack of blue uniforms on the street is both relieving and haunting, it feels like nobody will speak on the uncertainty that befalls them. The idea that they could lose the war in the East is a more prevalent thought than any of them are able to broach.

Riza picks up a part time job at the library, mostly because she needs to do something other than idle around at home. She likes the staff and she has time to read between shelving books and unlocking study rooms for university students. She gets a private sense of joy when said students notice the wedding band on her finger and deflate with disappointment.

The weeks march on and life becomes normal, in its own way. Riza finds community in her neighbors, she keeps up with her friends, and she writes every single day to her husband.

“Sorry I’m late!” Riza snaps out of her musings to see Gracia waving at her briefly before rummaging through her purse.

“No worries,” Riza smiles sweetly at her.

“I lost track of the time,” Gracia hugs her before the two head into a café for lunch.

“Seriously, it’s not a problem,” Riza chuckles. The pair of them have taken up meeting privately at least once a week, it’s not that they’re trying to exclude the other girls, merely… they’re the only ones with sweethearts in the East. Riza is grateful to have someone so close to her who understands, at least in part, what she’s going through.

“How’s Roy? I read in the papers that there’s a mobilization of State Alchemists further south.” Gracia asks, still looking through her bag.

Riza puts a hand on Gracia’s elbow to stop her nervous behavior. “I’ll pay, and he’s doing fine. His unit is staying put for a little while yet, as far as he knows.”

Gracia nods once, looking a bit melancholy, “Good, I heard things have been more intense in the southern region. Maes tries to make it sound like the war isn’t as horrible as the papers say… but I think I believe the tribune over his accounts.”

Riza and Gracia order a quick lunch and sit outside to enjoy what is likely the last nice day of the fall before winter hits.

“Roy is honest with me about things, I think… probably because he knows grandfather is keeping me informed too.” Riza props her chin on her hand. “He always tells me the war will be over soon but I think he feels like if he says it… it’ll become reality.”

“Could you ask Roy what kinds of sweets Maes likes? I’m going to send him a care package for Yule, I’m knitting him some socks and a pair of mittens too. I heard it gets cold in the desert in the winter and especially at night.”

Riza nods, “I’ll be sure to ask… though I hope the war is over before then.”

She hates the idea of Roy being out there in the dead of winter, she hates the idea of him being alone on Yule and New Years. The anxiety that she has grown used to suppressing threatens to overtake her.

“Also, I meant to ask… I’m thinking of picking up a nursing course, so many medical personal left with the military so… well, I was wondering if you’d join me. It’s only in the evenings Tuesday and Thursday so I’m sure your library schedule won’t interfere. I just don’t really want to go alone and-”

“I’d love to,” Riza smiles at her friend.

“Oh good!” Gracia chuckles.

“Any time I can get out of the house I appreciate it.”

Gracia nods, “It must be hard… newly married and still in an empty house.”

Riza shrugs, “I feel bad for introducing you to Maes before he deployed, it feels cruel in hindsight.”

“Don’t feel bad I’m happy to have someone to write to,” Gracia waves her off. “I was so blindly invested in my doomed relationship I wouldn’t have been able to see what was in front of me, even if you had introduced us sooner. Anyway, I have him now and he’s… he’s like a little… escape for me. He’s so wonderful in his letters and I feel like we’re really connecting on a deeper level.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” their food is delivered and Riza sighs. “How’s Rebecca’s new boyfriend? You met him right?”

“William, yeah, he’s nice - a little more academic than I would have pictured her going for but she is the one working in an office.” Gracia laughs. “Of all of us, her having a job like that… I won’t lie, it was a bit of a surprise.”

“Jacqueline being the one to work at a bank will never not shock me.”

“I think she and Vincent are getting pretty serious.”

“I don’t know, last time I checked in with Elizabeth they weren’t on the best of terms. Apparently his sister told their mother that Jaqueline comes from wealth and it’s made things extremely awkward.”

“Hm…”

It’s odd, Riza thinks, to be gossiping and talking about the lives of their friends that are - for all intents and purposes - very much uninvolved in the war. The thing that her and Gracia cannot out run if they tried.

She and Gracia sign up for nursing lessons, Rebecca comes over to her apartment on Wednesdays after work for wine, she goes to the range to shoot as she always has, and she spends her afternoons in the library. Her life is full but she’s not certain she likes it that way.

Dread fills her throat as she falls asleep at night, anxiety is a constant companion - especially when Roy’s letters are delayed or he is in the field longer than expected. She longs for him, she wants him home, she wants him safe and she cannot do anything to make those things happen.

Instead she has to fill her time and wait, her least favorite thing to do.

Yule and New Years are rapidly approaching and she finds herself dreading the holidays. She has never been one for these celebrations, when she lived with her father they more or less ignored them and when she moved in with her grandfather she was a bit too old for some of the usual festivities. They settled for a nice dinner and a small exchange of gifts but it was still a little awkward.

Then last year Roy had looked at her like she had three heads when she said ‘the holidays aren’t a big deal’. He’d taken her skating and brought her to view the light display in the park. He even got her a beautiful journal as a gift that she still keeps in her bedside table.

All of this to say, when Elizabeth invites the girls to her and Leon’s place for Yule celebrations she is hesitant to attend. Rebecca confers with her about it after work one day.

“I think she’s just excited about the new place,” Rebecca tells her, swirling her wine lazily. “I mean, it’s coming from a good place, she genuinely wants to have us all over but she also wants to show it off. I don’t blame her, she and Leon are too cute.”

Riza nods, “It just… I don’t know, feels a bit odd. She usually goes home for the holidays and it’s her first year being married. You’d think she’d want to visit her family, they haven’t been home since the wedding.”

“I think they’re trying to make their own way, besides, Leon has his finals like a week before Yule.” Rebecca shrugs, her eyes look over Riza more inquisitively. “Her family is in East City so there’s probably an extra layer of coordinating all that travel.”

“You’re probably right,” Riza sips her wine, sinking further into the sofa. 

“You doing okay, hon?”

Riza pulls her sweater over her fingers, “Yeah… Roy’s letter is late.”

Rebecca sighs, “I’m sorry, it must be… I can’t even imagine.”

“I don’t want you to, it’s not so fun,” Riza manages a smile. “Anyway, his last letter was pretty… he was in good spirits. He’s in charge of a small cohort now.”

“He owes you big time for getting deployed barely two months after the wedding,” Rebecca huffs, smirking at her friend. “He owes you dinner dates and at least twenty orgasms.”

“Twenty?” Riza snickers.

“Compound interest,” Rebecca chuckles.

“I’ll let him know.”

“Do you ever send him sexy letters? I read an article about it in Central Style, something to perk up the boys this holiday season.” Rebecca throws her a teasing wink and Riza finds herself laughing at the thought.

“You shouldn’t read that crap, tabloids will rot your brain.”

“Or make me irresistibly sexy,” Rebecca gulps down the last of her wine. “Mh! That reminds me-”

“Your sex life is improving I take it?”

“Rude but I’ll let it pass because it is , Leon’s friend Garret and I are officially exclusive.”

“Congratulations.” Riza pours the two of them another glass of wine, “I thought you found him dull.”

“I did until I found out his tongue has better purposes,” Rebecca makes a crude gesture with her tongue and Riza covers her face with another cackle.

The phone rings and Riza glances over her shoulder at it, “I swear to god if that’s Margaret from across the hall telling me I’m too loud again I’ll start hanging shit up in the spare room at two am again.”

“I love you,” Rebecca swipes her wine glass and drinks deeply.

“Mustang residence,” Riza answers cooly.

“God it’s good to hear your voice.”

Riza’s face falls and she feels her breath stutter as she gasps. “Roy, is… is that really you?”

Rebecca sits up straighter and whips around to look at her friend.

“Yeah, I’m-... I’m so glad I caught you,” he chuckles, his voice is thick and raspy on the other end.

“I-... I’m so happy to… I miss you so much,” the tears start before she can stop them.

“I miss you too sweetheart, everyday.”

“Where are you? Are you… are you okay?”

“Everything’s fine, I’m sorry I can’t tell you where I am… Security risk,” he sighs.

“Of course, so long as you’re safe,” she manages to wipe her eyes and pull herself together somewhat. “Did you get my last package?”

He chuckles, “I did, thank you for making my gloves, they’re perfect every time.”

“Flatterer.” 

“I’m entitled to it.”

She laughs, “You’re not at an outpost or anything because you’re hurt… right?”

“No sweetheart, I’m safe I promise.”

Yes, safe, in a war zone - exactly.

“You sound like you’re getting sick,” she decides is an apt way to respond.

“I’m fine it’s the-... the smoke.”

She bites her lip, “Roy-”

“Anyway, while me and the boys are here we got permission to make calls home for the holidays.” Roy says and she can hear him smiling through the phone.

“Make sure you call your aunt, she and your sisters are worried.”

“I will, dear.”

“Next Yule you’ll be home,” she says. “I… I haven’t gotten anything to decorate the apartment for the holidays, I’m waiting for you so we can do it together.”

He makes a noise that sounds a little like he’s clearing his throat. “It’s a date.”

“You’ll be home soon, we’ll… we’ll be together again soon.”

“Of course we will, love… have you called your grandfather recently?”

“Last I heard from him was a few weeks ago, he was getting busy and told me not to reach out.” She sighs, “Are you warm enough? Do you need anything from home? I can’t get much to you but I-”

“Riza, I’m okay, really. Please try not to worry so much.”

She chuckles, “Not going to happen, Major.”

“I could make it an order,” he teases.

“You’ll have to come home and make me,” she sighs. “I think of you every night - I try to write every day but I don’t want to inundate you with nonsense. I don’t even know what to talk about most of the time and I-”

“I love your letters, write as many as you want. I keep them all, I love them all.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, “Me too… next to the ones you wrote when… when you first left.”

“I’m so sorry… I love you so much.”

“Then come home soon, safe and sound okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I love you, Roy…”

“I love you too… I have to go, okay?”

“Okay, try to stay warm, don’t be afraid to ask for anything in your letters. And please… please keep writing.”

“I will, you take care of yourself too.”

She nods, “I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart. Happy holidays.”

She hears him breathing over the line for another few seconds, she faintly hears him say, “I know, it’s the hardest part.” before the call ends. Her heart hurts all over again, her eyes stinging as she holds the receiver for another moment longer. Just in case his voice comes back.

She hangs up and glances over at Rebecca who is wiping her running mascara with a napkin.

“What?” Rebecca asks, “You’re too cute and so sad.”

Riza chuckles, fat tears slipping down her cheeks. She looks at the half finished bottle of wine, “Do you want something stronger?”

“Yeah,” Rebecca sniffles. “I don’t envy you but god I hope I love my future husband like you love yours.”

“Garret’s a lucky man.”

“Shut up!”

They spend the night lamenting about their love lives, how only a year ago they were in school, going to dance halls, and being little girls on the precipice of adulthood. Riza has never felt like a child, not really, but she finds herself longing for the days when her world was just that school, honestly, she longs for the days out West - with her father and Roy.

Sometimes she longs for the world before Roy entered her orbit, before she knew how lovely companionship was. She has always been grateful to him - her first friend and her first love - for shining a light on her dark little life. He was the first dawn as she crawled out of the cave, and she reveled in it.

She’s gone back into the cave, back into the quiet loneliness that comes from isolation. Her friends are wonderful but they all have their own lives. Some days all she has is Roy, he knows everything about her, he knows about the tattoo and the way her father treated her. He has seen the murky depths of her past, carved out a part of her soul and nestled in between her ribs as a permanent part of her.

Without him, she feels an ache that doesn’t go away - like she is always just a bit hungry, it’s not obvious or distracting, but it is there.

She sends him holiday candies that Aunt Chris insists are his favorite and another new pair of gloves. She and Gracia are nearly done with their nursing training, Gracia is considering getting a full time job at Central City Hospital while Riza contemplates something more in the vein of military nursing.

“For the soldiers who come home,” Riza insists when Gracia looks at her in shock. “I don’t think I’d enlist myself… but rehabilitation for the soldiers coming home feels like a nice way to give back.”

Gracia bites her lip, they’re grabbing flowers and wine for Elizabeth’s party tonight and she doesn’t look especially enthused by Riza’s idea.

“You can say what’s on your mind,” Riza tells her with a kind smile.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea for you… I think it would make you worry more about Roy. I know it would make me worried.”

“Well… I have this skill now, I want to put it towards something.”

“I get it, I do… but maybe not something so close to home. What about helping at a nursing home?”

Riza chuckles good naturedly, “My grandfather is also geriatric, wouldn’t that cause me to worry?”

Gracia folds her arms, “You don’t have to do anything, but maybe just… I don’t know.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I want to help. Doing things… staying out and about keeps my mind off of the war… that helps me too.”

“Right,” Gracia nods, “What about working in a school? That’s my plan once all the real doctors and nurses come back from the front.”

“We are real nurses,” Riza snickers.

“My point still stands.”

Riza mulls that thought over, “I’ll consider it, I’m not decided about anything.”

“Good, now-” Gracia holds up a bouquet of red roses, “Too much?”

“Definitely not.”

The pair of them make their way to a townhouse in a nice part of town. It reminds Riza of her grandfather’s home in Central, the light bunches of snowfall add to the charm of the well decorated exterior.

Elizabeth is opening the door before they’ve made it to the landing.

“Welcome! Welcome! Come on, it's freezing out there!” Elizabeth ushers them inside and takes their coats. The house is bustling with holiday merriment, people that Riza barely recognizes from Elizabeth’s wedding coalesce around a decorated evergreen and a crackling fireplace.

Riza and Gracia stick to where Rebecca has set herself up. She and Garret are, apparently, no longer on speaking terms so they spend much of their evening keeping an eye out for the man in question. Jacqueline is also fresh off a break up and the two of them are soon devolving into laughter.

“I know right! He said, and I quote ‘ what? I can’t control my mother, she’s usually right anyway’!” Jacqueline cackles before taking a sip of wine.

“I think you dodged a real bullet there,” Riza snickers.

“Uhg, right? And they just got so weird about everything! Like they kept asking me why I don’t work for my dad and if I got my job because of him. So out of pocket,” then she glances at Rebecca. “At least I wasn’t staying for the sex.”

“He wasn’t even that good, he just knew where my-”

“Hey not so loud!” Gracia swats at Rebecca’s arm.

“I think you should be louder,” Elizabeth snickers as she slides in next to Rebecca and wraps her arm loosely around her shoulders.

“Clit,” Rebecca says with a blush and a laugh.

“Good girl,” Elizabeth teases. “I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves… I was actually hoping we could go upstairs to get away for a second. Just us girls.”

“Of course,” Riza places her empty wine glass down and the five girls exit the tree room.

“So, I haven’t had time to give you all a tour yet since things have been so busy. Don’t mind the mess!” Elizabeth shows off the main bedroom, complete with a cute little veranda looking over the small backyard and the office that has a view of the street.

Then, she takes them to a room that is… empty.

“And this… well, take a guess!” Elizabeth clasps her hands behind her back.

“Is this the guest room you’re going to drag our drunk asses to after future house parties?” Rebecca snickers.

“I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful green space, I’ve heard tons of people are adding them to their homes. And the north facing windows are perfect for ferns.” Gracia observes with a cursory glance out the window.

Riza however feels her heart clench in her chest. “Are you serious, Elizabeth?”

“Huh?” What is it?” Jacqueline turns towards Riza.

“You’re too smart for your own good, Riza,” Elizabeth looks at Riza with bright eyes. Unshed tears and a smile that spells it out in the silence.

“A nursery. This is the nursery.” Riza says, it causes the other girls to scream in delight.

“You’re having a baby!?” Jacqueline gasps.

Elizabeth is engulfed in the arms of her friends and soon they devolve into nonsensical babbling. How lucky she is, how exciting this is, how she’s going to make a fantastic mom.

Riza finds herself swallowing tears as she watches her friends float about, ecstatic with the news. She’s happy, she is, and seeing Elizabeth - bold bright Elizabeth becoming a mother is nothing short of wonderful. Still, her throat tightens as she thinks about how much life is starting to take hold around her.

And the war still rages on.

Notes:

Lightly holiday flavored chapter for the soul! Hope you liked it!

Chapter 13: Chapter 12

The new year does not bring the end of the war as many had hoped it would. Instead, tensions rise in the East, so much so Führer Bradley even boards a train to help in the war effort. Riza feels an intense sense of dread every time a letter from Roy is delayed. He’s busy, he’s in the thick of the fight and she knows that, but it makes her ache with worry.

The Flame Alchemist has made quite the name for himself. There’s been a few articles in the papers about him and his instrumental help in the war effort. Riza would like to say this makes her proud, but it doesn’t. The truth is she’s equal parts angry and proud, so much so they balance out the other.

She loves her husband but she hates that he is being used as a weapon. The Flame Alchemist is a tool for the military to exploit, Roy is just a man, just her husband. She misses that man, and she knows that he is only in this position because of her; it consumes her waking hours and even in her dreams. Her unconscious mind conjures images of him, starved and bloody on a battlefield, she imagines the haunted look in his eye and it makes her wake up screaming.

Her fault, it’s all her fault.

Life has a funny way of continuing in the midst of horrible things. Gracia gets a position as a pediatric nurse at Central City Hospital, Rebecca starts seeing a new beau, and Jacqueline gets a promotion. All the while Elizabeth is creating a new life and Riza is… Riza, with nothing new to offer the world. 

The girls come to Riza’s apartment to celebrate the above mentioned good news with sparkling wine and a cheeseboard Gracia spent an hour preparing.

“I think it’s wonderful, you’re becoming a real career woman over here!” Elizabeth claps her hands together.

“I know, who’d have thought it?” Jacqueline takes a sip of her drink, “Although, one of my new counter-parts told me it’s because the military stole all the good new hires.”

Riza rolls her eyes as Rebecca snickers, “Somebody’s jealous.”

“Right? It’s so obvious,” Jacqueline concurs.

“How’s life at the hospital, Gracia? Your schedule sounds pretty intense,” Riza asks.

“Oh it’s not so bad, I actually love it. I really feel like I’m making a difference in those kids' lives. I’m enjoying my work more than I expected.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Riza nods. “And Maes?”

Gracia swallows a larger gulp of wine and Riza has her answer. “He’s good, tired but good.”

“I’m glad.”

“And Roy?”

“Busy,” Riza chuckles.

“I saw that article in the Tribune, seems like he’s a regular hero,” Elizabeth notes.

“Yeah, saved a whole group of POWs, it sounded intense,” Rebecca glances wearily at Riza.

“He’s been all over the East, thankfully he’s able to keep contact.” Riza responds evenly.

“Thank god our boys have most of the area contained again, it was getting pretty scary when the war spread so far north.” Elizabeth sighs and then turns to Jacqueline, “Weren’t you on a date with a poly-sci major who said something about that?”

“Ugh Paul wouldn’t shut up about it, geography this and historical significance that. He was such a know-it-all.” She complains into her drink.

“Have you been okay, Riza? I know that… that I’ve been struggling recently.” Gracia half whispers as the other girls start talking about dating again.

“I’ve been sleeping pretty poorly but then again I never had the best sleep schedule.” Riza tries to pass it off as nothing. The truth is the anxiety, the waiting, the unknown, it’s all crushing her.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that the hospital is hiring maternal health nurses. I may or may not have put in a good word for you.”

Riza fixes Gracia with a look, “You must think you’re so sly.”

Gracia chuckles, “I think it would be good for you, it’s not just a mentally challenging job but it’s really rewarding. And selfishly I’d love to have someone to spend my lunch breaks with. I miss our lunches and when we were training together. I feel like we don’t see each other anymore.”

“You could just tell me when you’ve got a break.”

“Or you could make a difference saving lives,” Gracia challenges her.

“Hm? What are we talking about?” Rebecca asks Riza, seeing the look on her face.

“I’ve been volun-told to apply for a job.” Riza rolls her eyes.

“Oh my god! Yes! Four of the five of us in the workforce! Take that Professor Prick!” Jacqueline raises her glass.

“So you’re getting a job at the hospital? Gotta admit I’m surprised,” Rebecca takes a drink.

“Maternal Health is hiring, I put in a good word.” Gracia tosses Riza a teasing smile.

“Riza you’ll be a great nurse. Can’t say I ever envisioned it for you but you’ll be wonderful,” Jacqueline says.

Elizabeth chuckles, “Does that mean you’ll be my delivery nurse?”

“If I get the job, I guess so,” Riza smirks.

“Seems like fate to me,” Elizabeth chuckles. “I’ll be your first patient.”

“Hopefully someone else is having a baby before the summer,” Rebecca teases.

“Yeah, I’m not sure anyone wants to be the first patient,” Jacqueline grimaces.

Riza hesitantly submits her application to the hospital the next morning, by the end of the following week she has a job working at Central City Hospital.

She’s nervous on her first day, but honestly, things pan out better than she expected. It is exhausting work but she does feel rewarded when, by the end of that first day, she’s handing a darling baby girl to a beaming new mother.

Gracia wears an I-told-you-so look for the rest of the week and Riza is more than happy to let her have this.

“I just think it’s so sweet! And you’re such a calming presence, it’s hard not to feel safe with you around.” Gracia chuckles as the pair share a lunch break.

“That’s… I’m sure your patients feel the same,” Riza tries not to blush.

Gracia shakes her head, “I’m much better with day-to-day care, when I can talk to the kids and make them comfortable with their treatment plans. You’ve got a much more chaotic job and I admire that. I’m so glad you got the job.”

Riza snickers at her, “I feel like you’re patting yourself on the back there too.”

“Well, I can’t say I was wrong for putting your name forward!” Gracia laughs. “So… how’s Roy?”

Riza is silent, “He’s fine… safe… And Maes?”

“He’s well… he got a promotion at least.”

“Good,” Riza nods limply. “Did you see the papers?”

“I did…” Gracia lowers her gaze, “All that destruction in the photos… all of those lives lost…”

“Does it ever make you feel like you should be there? Helping?”

“God no, I can’t… I wouldn’t… I would be a horrible field nurse, I’d cry everyday. I feel awful about all of that.” Gracia sighs.

Riza bites her lip, “Me too… I just… I miss Roy so much and everytime I see those photos I can’t help but wonder if he saw it too… and… and how much worse it must be in person.”

Gracia takes Riza’s hand, “That’s not a productive thought, we can’t… we can’t know what they’ve been through unless they… until they tell us. We just have to be strong and be here for them.”

“Yeah… and we certainly are here ,” Riza chuckles bitterly.

“We are. You’re here in this hospital helping mothers bring new life into the world, that’s productive, that’s something we can do. And Roy must be so proud.”

“I…” Riza chuckles, “I don’t know, he hasn’t gotten that letter yet.”

“He’ll be beaming, I guarantee it. He’ll be flaunting your achievements around camp like an obnoxious love sick idiot I’m sure of it.”

“I think you got Roy and Maes’ personalities flipped.” Riza laughs, more genuinely this time.

“Maybe you’re right…” Gracia returns her attention to her meal. “Jacqueline told me that she’s planning the shower for Elizabeth, she says that Elizabeth doesn’t want any gifts but… isn’t that the whole point of a baby shower?”

Riza shrugs as they return to a more ‘ordinary’ topic. It’s hard, talking to Gracia always walks an awkward line of getting too deep in the weeds of sorrow. They flip flop constantly between talking about nothing and talking about everything. Still, they’re both too frightened to admit that the war hangs over them like an overcast day, while everyone else gets to walk in the light.

---

In the weeks that follow, Riza gets into the groove of her new work life. The world is waking from a long winter and Riza feels purposeful for the first time in a long time. She loves her patients, she loves her job, and she feels fulfilled in her work. Even if home is as lonely as it ever was, she still has Roy’s letters and the occasional call from her grandfather.

She thinks she’s receiving one such call on a Saturday afternoon but when she picks up the receiver she can’t even greet her caller:

“He’s being deployed,” a frantic, whimpering voice breaks through the static. “Riza, Leon’s being deployed… what’s… what do I do ?”

Riza’s heart plummets to her feet, “Are you home?”

“Yeah… yeah I’m-”

“I’ll be right there,” Riza hangs up and grabs her bag, all but sprinting out of the house. It’s about a twenty minute walk to Elizabeth’s town house but she makes it in a little over ten as she knocks once before entering the home. She finds Elizabeth curled up on the living room floor, her face in her hands and the phone still off its base by her side.

“Elizabeth, sweetie, can you hear me?” Riza asks, kneeling beside her.

Elizabeth looks up at her with tearful eyes and hitching breath, she nods once and then goes back to hyperventilating.

“Can you take my hands?” Riza reaches out to her and waits as Elizabeth’s trembling hands grasp hers. “Good, let’s get you on the couch, okay? I’ll grab you some water and-”

“Don’t leave me, please!” Elizabeth gasps for breath.

“I’m not, I’m right here,” Riza is calm and collected as she guides Elizabeth to the sofa. “Try to catch your breath and tell me what happened.”

Elizabeth explains, in broken quivering phrases, that Leon received a notice in the mail a few days ago. She found it sitting open in the office and saw his deployment date set for a week from tomorrow. 

“The first thing I did was call you,” Elizabeth admits weakly. “What am I going to do? The baby’s coming in a few months and I won’t have my husband. How did you do it? How have you managed without Roy?”

Riza knows now is not the time to hit her with the ‘I have been a certified disaster since Roy left’ story so instead she pets Elizabeth’s hair.

“It was different for me, I knew that Roy was a soldier and an alchemist, I knew deployment was on the table. This came out of nowhere for you and it’s scary, that’s okay. I’m here for you, always.”

Elizabeth puts one hand over her stomach, “They’re kicking like crazy in there, is that bad?”

Riza shakes her head, “I’m sure baby can tell you’re stressed but I can check you over just to be sure.”

“Please,” Elizabeth nods.

Riza does as she’s bid, it’s a bit harder without all the equipment that she would have in the hospital but Elizabeth’s heart rate has calmed down and so has the baby. Elizabeth is still distressed but she looks relieved in spite of it.

“Thank you… I’m such a mess.”

“That’s okay, this is a really messy situation,” Riza tells her kindly.

“Without Leon… how am I going to have the baby without Leon?”

Riza shrugs, “Maybe your family can come stay with you, help you get the hang of motherhood before he comes home.”

“Which is soon, right? Your war hero husband will make the war end soon, right?” Elizabeth asks.

“Roy will end the war singlehandedly if I tell him to,” Riza tells her with a wry smile.

Elizabeth returns the expression, “I’ve thought about going to be with my family. My mom and Aunt Gina have always been… well, if I can’t have my husband I want to be with them.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Would you come with me? If I asked.”

“Of course,” Riza pats her leg. “Now… you should probably tell Leon you know.”

Elizabeth groans, “You’re right… will you… will you tell the other girls? I’m not sure I can say it again without repeating what you just witnessed.”

Elizabeth already looks like she’s about to cry again so Riza agrees.

She calls Gracia the moment she’s back in her apartment, she can hear the way her friend tries to hold back her own devastated tears. Jacqueline and Rebecca are in disbelief, it seems so impossible and so exceedingly cruel.

Riza wonders if Leon’s deployment is her fault, it doesn’t feel as direct as Roy or Maes but the thought is there.

She and Gracia accompany Elizabeth to the train station the day that Leon deploys. Neither of them can watch as Elizabeth says her goodbyes.

“It’s so unfair,” Gracia mutters. “They’re going to have a baby… how… how can they force him to leave her?”

“I know,” Riza agrees with a shivering sigh. “It’s cruel.”

“I… I hate being here, it brings back such unpleasant memories.” Gracia admits weakly as another group of young soldiers passes them by.

“It’s so… I hate it too,” Riza tries to cover the break in her voice with a cough.

“It’s been two weeks since I last received a letter from Maes. I haven’t stopped writing but I-... I’m so scared his name will appear in the papers.”

Riza pulls Gracia into her side, “I’m scared too… I can’t help but wonder what Roy is going through. Where he is, how he’s doing, if he’s scared… it’s all I can think about.”

And that it’s my fault he’s there at all.

The train whistle blows and Gracia flinches.

“I’m leaving for East City with Elizabeth next month,” Riza says. “She wants me with her when the baby comes.”

Gracia nods, “It’ll be nice for you to get away from all of this. I’m planning a short visit north with Jacqueline actually. We just… need to be away.”

“Central is… it’s too much right now,” Riza agrees.

The pair of them glance over to Elizabeth who is still clinging to her husband.

“Yeah…” Gracia swallows thickly as Elizabeth gives her husband one last kiss. Riza remembers saying goodbye to Roy, she has the same horrible thought that has plagued her since he left: what if the last time I kissed Roy really was the last time ?

Elizabeth is a wreck the rest of the day, so much so that Riza offers to spend the night with her just to be present. Gracia makes dinner, Jacqueline comes by with flowers, and Rebecca stops in with pastries for them to enjoy.

In the days that follow, the girls take their turns looking out for their friend. Riza feels the seeds of guilt take root anytime Elizabeth talks about how well Riza handled deployment in comparison to her. Riza wonders if she should have been more forthcoming with her struggles in the realm of her husband’s deployment.

It’s not like she wanted to hide her feelings then, it was just easier to retreat. She felt more comfortable turning inward, forcing herself into isolation to deal with the heartache. Although, Elizabeth is having a baby, so perhaps Riza did in the literal sense, handle deployment with more grace.

Riza and Rebecca meet up for lunch the week Riza and Elizabeth are preparing to leave for East City.

“I think you guys will have a great time.” Rebecca says as she stirs her coffee. “Make sure to give that baby the biggest kiss from Aunt Becca.”

“You’ll meet them eventually,” Riza reminds her with a laugh.

“I know but it’ll be a few months at least. Right?”

“She said she’s planning to stay with her mom for the first four months but my bet is until Leon comes home.”

“I’m going to miss you guys,” Rebecca pouts.

“I’ll be back long before then. I’m planning to stay that first week after the baby is born and then I’ll be back.”

“Thank god, I can’t have my best friend gone for that long.”

“How do you think Jacqueline feels?”

“Oh she’s planning to go visit the second you tell her the baby is here.” Rebecca chuckles, “She looked at me the other day and was talking about how Sammy - you know that business major she’s dating - well she thinks they’re getting pretty serious but who actually knows. Anyway, she was talking about how cute it’ll be when we’re all each other’s maids of honor since she was Elizabeth’s and she’s going to ask Elizabeth to be hers. And I was obviously yours and I’m sure you’re going to be Gracia’s.”

“Cart before the horse much?” Riza chuckles.

“Hey, my love life is as active as it can be with… you know…”

“Right,” Riza huffs briefly. “You’ll find the love of your life soon I’m certain. I’m looking forward to all the weddings and babies when the war is over.”

“Babies huh?” Rebecca gives her a humored look.

“Gracia wants kids, I’ll be surprised if her and Maes wait longer than a year to start trying.”

“Yeah but babies was plural which means you’re looking to make a mini-Mustang.”

Riza rolls her eyes, “I’ve thought about it but it depends on a lot of things.”

“You’re going to have the cutest kids.” Rebecca wears a shit eating grin and Riza feels her face warm in response.

“How is your love life, by the way?” Riza takes a sip of her coffee.

Rebecca pulls a face, “God so you know that date I went on last week? Turns out he’s psychotic and my coworker has also dated him!”

Riza chuckles and listens intently as she is regaled with stories from Rebecca’s love life. Eventually, their lunch turns into Rebecca helping Riza pack for East City, which turns into a semi-sleepover as the pair keep talking long into the night.

Rebecca’s brother has been deployed for the past six months and she’s kept it quiet, uncertain how to broach the topic when Gracia and Riza’s partners have been gone for almost a year now.

A year, Riza had completely forgotten, her anniversary has come and gone. She hasn’t spoken to Roy since Yule and they haven’t seen each other in just about a year. She tells Rebecca that she feels like a terrible wife for forgetting something so obviously important. Rebecca helps her come up with ideas on what to do to celebrate, but she can’t shake the feeling that she is failing in more ways than one.

This time last year she was blindly preparing for her husband for his alchemy exam, this time last year she was the happiest she had ever been. It’s like she’s being punished for that joy, like she’s being punished for trying to connect with those around her.

Notes:

Happy December Lads! It's time to fuck shit up! This is about the be the saddest shit ever and I'm personally thrilled lol.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 14: Chapter 13

Notes:

TAG UPDATES!!!

I have added more tags to this fic, please be sure to check the tags as a safety measure! Next chapter shit pops off! I love you~

It’s been a long time since Riza has been somewhere new. Her grandfather never liked to take vacations, much preferring to stay in Central even when he had the time. She never had much of a desire to travel either, she liked her home and her friends exactly where she was. Perhaps it was a bit selfish to feel that way, but after so much time being kept away from the world, she was so comfortable in the corner of it she carved out that she never wanted to leave.

Still, when Elizabeth asks her to come with her to East City, Riza doesn’t hesitate to follow. She loves her friends, she would do anything for them and this is no exception.

Elizabeth falls asleep moments into the trip, Riza is unsurprised; in addition to being nearly nine months pregnant, she has taken this trip dozens of times over the years. Riza, however, watches in awe as Central City gives way to the highlands. Rolling hills and a bright blue sky that puts the best of paintings to shame.

It reminds her, however briefly, of the wide open skies of the West. While that landscape was peppered with mountains and tended to have a brisk quality to the air, the East is like a warm ruffled blanket of deep greens. She gets more delight out of seeing the sheep than she is willing to admit. She watches with rapt curiosity as Elizabeth sinks further and further into Riza’s side.

East City is not as big as Central, which is a given, Riza is well aware, but she wasn’t anticipating how starkly different they’d be. The East looks more like it was absorbed by the Amestrian government than any other place Riza’s personally been to. It’s distinctly different and Riza already likes that about it.

Riza sits up a bit straighter as they enter the station, a tingling bit of nerves jolts her as she wonders what exactly to do. The last few times that she has traveled like this, she had someone else to rely on - typically her grandfather or more recently, Roy.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Elizabeth chuckles at her.

Riza shakes her head as the train lurches to a stop. “Of course not.”

“You look pretty nervous,” she teases.

Riza rolls her eyes, “Did you have a nice nap?”

Elizabeth smirks in response, “Ha ha, let’s go.”

Elizabeth leads them through the small crowd of travelers with ease, the air is much warmer than it had been in Central. People are moving much slower as well, like they have nowhere important to be.

Riza watches as Elizabeth breaks away from her side to embrace two women, both of whom wear the same gleeful expression. They hold her and pet her hair as they speak animatedly and Riza awkwardly watches a few paces behind, uncertain what to do or say.

One of the women approaches her with a smile. “It’s so lovely to see you again. Since we didn’t get much of an introduction at the wedding, let me reintroduce myself; I’m Lizzie’s mother, you can call me Linda.”

Riza dips her head respectfully, “A pleasure.”

“Oh don’t be so formal,” Linda reaches forward and pulls Riza into a tight hug.

Riza returns the gesture with a laugh, “I hope that I won’t be too much of a bother, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you, I’ve heard nothing but good things about you since your school days.” Linda guides Riza to the town car that’s waiting.

Elizabeth is babbling to her mother and Aunt about their travels and how Leon’s been doing in Ishval. Riza is too busy trying not to snap her own neck as she watches East City roll by. The summer heat is just starting to melt away in Central, but here the sunshine is unrelenting. The streets are bustling with activity and the liveliness of it all adds to the inviting atmosphere. 

“And I hope your husband doesn’t mind that Lizzie stole you away for a bit, Riza.” Elizabeth’s Aunt chides playfully.

Riza looks down at her hands with a polite chuckle, “He doesn’t mind.”

“What a gem of a man, if he wants to come stay with us as well feel free to send for him!”

“Aunt Gina, stop it!” Elizabeth gapes at her aunt.

“I know what it’s like to be newly married,” Aunt Gina snickers.

Riza tries, briefly, to imagine what Roy would think of East City; she likes to believe he would love it as well… but it’s so hard to know. She’ll have to write him soon, ask him if he has any interest at all in visiting… he probably won’t, he will probably want nothing to do with the East once the war is over and he’s home.

“Her husband is a state alchemist, I told you that,” Elizabeth hisses.

Linda looks at Riza and gives a small gasp, “Oh… You’re… You’re the Flame Alchemist’s wife.”

Riza nods once, “Yes, I am, Roy is… well, he’s wonderful.”

“I’ve heard wonderful things,” Linda smiles at her.

Riza clears her throat and returns her attention to the window.

Elizabeth’s childhood home is a big blue house with a gated lawn. It’s spaced away from their neighbors some but the community in general is well maintained. There are children riding bikes and dogs being walked, it feels more simple than Central in the best way possible.

Riza is led up to a guest room that is just as big and bright as the rest of the city. Her eyes glaze over as she decisively sets to unpacking. She chastises herself when she realizes she left Roy’s gloves at home, she had every intention of working on those while she was here.

She’s already forgotten their anniversary and had to throw together a last minute gift for him. Now here she is forgetting to even bring her stitch work and… the way the guilt continues to eat at her…

“Somewhere interesting?” Elizabeth’s voice is so close that Riza jumps out of her skin.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“I did no such thing, can’t exactly sneak around anyway.” She chuckles plopping on the corner of the bed.

“Still,” Riza huffs, trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“Well, what’s going on then? I know that look, you’re in another world.”

“Unfortunately, I’m right here, in this one, suffering.” Riza deadpans, a smile creeping over her features as Elizabeth snorts.

“Yeah, yeah, what’s on your mind?”

Riza shrugs, “Roy, but he usually is.”

Elizabeth nods, “I get that… I miss Leon every day… I can’t fathom how hard it’s been for you.”

“Well, let’s not think about it then,” Riza insists.

“You’re right, let’s go shopping,” Elizabeth smiles brightly at her. “It’ll be a nice distraction!”

“I don’t know,” Riza chuckles. “Aren’t you tired?”

Elizabeth quirks a brow, “Are you?”

“Don’t turn my questions back on me,” Riza chuckles as she delicately closes her suitcase.

“Should have napped on the train,” Elizabeth snickers. “Come on, I haven’t been home in almost two years and I have things to show you.”

Riza allows Elizabeth to take her hand and drag her around town. Elizabeth takes Riza to a few of her favorite places from her childhood; the lake, the park, and even a strip of chintzy shops that Elizabeth cannot believe she used to love. Riza finds it all so charming, it makes her wish she had her own affinity for the place she was raised.

Elizabeth tells such colorful stories about growing up here, it leaves Riza with a painful cheek pinching smile.

“And now I know you were a darling little girl considering all the photos your parents have.” Riza notes, laughing into her take away cup of coffee.

“So of course they didn’t blame me! Who could pin such a horrible thing as that on a girl with that cute a face!” Elizabeth snickers.

“And you’re condemning yourself to the same fate, you know. Your own daughter is going to look at you with the same excuse and you’re going to have to tell her not to play tricks on you.”

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, “I know but I’ve got a few years to build up my own resolve.”

“Uhuh,” Riza mutters, unconvinced of her friend’s assertion.

“I do! And I will,” Elizabeth insists as they turn the corner.

“I’m sure, Leon will be even weaker.” Riza laughs.

“Isn’t that the truth,” Elizabeth rolls her eyes, pausing for a moment before breaking stride with Riza to purchase a paper.

Riza waits patiently for Elizabeth to skim through the paper before returning to her.

“Sorry, I just realized I hadn’t… hadn’t looked today.” Riza nods as her friend passes her to paper. “Roy’s not in there either, seems our boys are doing okay.”

“Well, they know what’s good for them,” Riza chuckles humorlessly as she glances at the headline.

Protests in East City End While War in Ishval Continues! She deliberately looks away before reading any further. She wonders if it’s cruel that she cannot bring herself to read or even face the realities of war outside of her own personal experience. People are suffering, real people - and she can’t even face the issues of Ishval long enough to decide if she believes the war is just or not.

All she knows is that she wants the war to end and it makes her feel a pang of guilt that she cannot look at this war in any capacity without the added selfishness in her heart. It makes her feel like a bad person.

“Do you… do you wish-”

“Of course I do,” Riza clutches the paper a fraction tighter.

“Yeah…” Elizabeth sighs.

The two girls clasp hands as they return to their walk, a somber air sticks between them as they go. 

The next day Elizabeth is in something of a dour mood and Riza finds herself sitting and chatting with Linda for much of the day. Riza is, briefly, reminded of how much she enjoyed the company of Mrs. Bradley at functions when she first arrived in Central. How easy it was to fall into complacency with her and how much she craved a maternal figure.

Linda is kind and gentle, even when she asks uncomfortable questions Riza feels at ease.

“Do you think about Roy much?”

“Everyday,” Riza answers softly.

“You know, here in East City we have a traditional gift for married couples, it’s this beautiful embroidered bracelet, it’s supposed to be for good luck. Perhaps you can send it to him.”

Riza smiles distantly, “I think he’d like that… although he doesn’t wear his ring into the field anymore, it got so dirty and he didn’t want to lose it.”

He wears it on his dogtags, if he dies I’ll get the dogtags back and now I’ll get his ring too.

“I think this could be a nice substitute, although I’m certain he’s never once forgotten you while he’s in the field.”

“I like to think that’s true,” Riza sighs as Linda grabs her hand.

“Young love is such a gift, I’m so… I hope you hold onto it as long as you can.”

“I’ll have it forever,” Riza chuckles. “Grandfather says that love matures as we do - but Roy and I… we’re growing up together and I like that idea very much.”

Elizabeth fills the next few days of Riza’s time with small outings and late night chats. She has almost been in East City a week when she is finally able to have a day to herself again. She takes the day to explore the city alone and looks for a shop that sells the bracelet Linda mentioned.

She wanders into a little shop touting its trinkets and other souvenirs.  She walks through the store methodically observing each piece with rapt interest. The sweet little store clerk asks if she needs any help but before she can respond there’s a sound outside, a loud blaring that confounds Riza at first.

It all happens so fast, first the sirens screech into the air and then an explosion turns the world upside down.

Notes:

.... hey babes I'm not dead! Or abandoning this fic! Or whatever... I just got wrapped up in other fics and fandom events... also remember when I said I wasn't sure where this fic was going? Well I'm still not but I have a bunch of chapters to share and hopefully we'll figure it out along the way!

Thank you so much for continuing to comment and follow and kudos this fic - it truly means the world to me that this little project is so well recieved.

Chapter 15: Chapter 14

Notes:

WARNING! This is a very heavy violent war chapter, I know y'all signed up for this but here's your last warning before shit gets DARK

Godspeed and good luck!

Riza comes to only a few moments later, her head is throbbing and the store is in ruins. There’s screaming in the streets and distantly she can hear the sounds of gunfire. She barely has the wherewithal to gather herself from the ground and rush out into the chaos. She’s suddenly at a loss, she doesn’t know where she is, not really, and she doesn’t know where the shelters are. Worst of all, she doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.

She runs in the direction she came from and reaches a bridge with abandoned cars and fleeing citizens. The city is cloaked in smoke, she can see the bursts of light indicating explosions across the city. Whatever this is, it’s organized, and Riza is sick to her stomach.

She races towards Elizabeth’s home, at a loss for anywhere else to go; clearly it’s the wrong way given all the people running in the opposite direction. She doesn’t care, the only thing on her mind is a mantra of please be safe.

When she arrives at the right neighborhood several buildings are burning, one is completely gone and Riza is starting to freak out. She faces Elizabeth’s childhood home and grimaces as she realizes that the fires have already begun to ravage it.

She pulls up her collar over her nose and dashes inside, she screams for Elizabeth, she screams because this cannot be happening.

“Riza!?” Elizabeth finally calls back, she’s in the back of the house and Riza is sprinting to her side.

“Elizabeth!” Riza’s breath is stolen from her body as she sees the state in which her friend is in. Lying in a puddle of blood, half of her body is obscured by a fallen hunk of ceiling, Elizabeth looks at her with pure terror in her eyes.

“Riza-”

“We need to… come on, let’s get you out of here-” Riza attempts to tug at her friend but Elizabeth screams in pain. “Elizabeth-”

“You… Riza, you have to get the baby out!” Elizabeth grips at Riza’s arm and practically growls her command at her.

“We… Once we get you-”

“I can’t Riza, I won’t make it you-”

“Shut up! You- you- you-”

“Please!” Elizabeth sobs again.

“I-… I can’t-… I won’t leave you!” Riza coughs as the thick haze of smoke threatens to choke her.

“Don’t die here with me,” Elizabeth spits. “I won’t forgive you if you die here and don’t even try to save my baby!”

The ground quakes beneath them, more debris falls and a particularly thick chunk of wall smacks against Riza’s head.

“The East City Training Center is where they’ll be taking refugees. G-get… get the baby out and run, you hear me?”

“I-”

“Riza I can’t feel anything I won’t make it okay? I need you to save my baby!” Elizabeth is sobbing and so is Riza as she attempts to pull Elizabeth out of the wreckage again. Even in the midst of the thick black smoke surrounding her she can see that Elizabeth’s crushed legs are likely unsalvageable. Even if she could carry Elizabeth…

Another crash of debris falls from the ceiling above her, Riza feels a searing sting of burning metal on her arm and she is blinded by pain for a moment. When she finally pulls herself back together she notices that the flames have devoured the wall nearby, there’s not enough time to-

She looks back down at her friend and sees empty eyes staring back at her. There’s complete and total silence where once there had been screaming. Riza is suddenly the one screaming and she has to swallow the panic or else the smoke will kill her too.

Riza cuts herself off from reason, there’s no time for it, no time for anything other than ruthless efficiency. She grabs a knife off the counter, burning her hand on the metal but not caring in the slightest as she cuts the baby out of her friend’s womb.

There’s no time, the ground is shaking again and another detonated bomb threatens to send the entire building into rubble. Riza barely has the wherewithal to wrap the baby in a kitchen towel before sprinting from the house.

East City Training Center, she has to get to East City Training Center… where the hell is East City Training Center?

Once she is outside, she is sputtering and coughing, choking on the fresh air. Though it is hardly fresh, the sky is a shade of apocalyptic red and the medley of screams threaten to deafen her.

This once vibrant city is engulfed in smoke and flame, it looks less like a city and more like hell. Riza swallows that thought as best she’s able and picks a direction to run. The baby is clutched so tightly to her chest, Riza is worried she’ll snap them in half.

A bullet snaps out of an alleyway ahead of her, Riza gasps so hard she nearly chokes. That single gunshot turns into a round of gunshots so close to her Riza nearly wishes she’d stayed in the burning building. The burning building where she left Elizabeth’s corpse her friend is dead and she left her -

Riza ducks into an alley and curls over the baby as a vehicle barrels down the road. Two men in black masks hang out of the windows shooting into buildings as they go. Riza watches the vehicle plow into bodies like they are nothing more than paper dolls and she is crushing the little body in her arms as a bullet grazes her back.

This is not happening, it cannot be happening, she cannot be here right now. This cannot be reality because this is too cruel, too brutal, too… too inhumane to be happening at all.

She left Elizabeth to die… she left Elizabeth to die and she didn’t even try to help her… She was here in East City to help one of her dearest friends bring a life into this world and instead she died. She died in a burning house begging for Riza to rip the baby out of her belly.

Riza suddenly looks at that baby now, as the gunshots and screeching of tires fade into the distance. The baby she’d been clutching for dear life didn’t cry when they came into the world… a little boy she now sees. A little boy whose skin is blackened with soot, purple bruises liter his tiny body, and his a skull is partially caved in. Had she done that? Had she held him so tightly his soft skull crumbled in her hands? Had the collapsing home done this? Had his skull bowed in when his mother was crushed by her own home?

All of these questions are, of course, irrelevant - his body is cold and stiff in her hands. He isn’t breathing and he isn’t alive. Maybe he never was. That thought makes her scream again.

Riza was with her father the day he died, she watched him cough and writhe in bed, she watched the blood seep out of his mouth and soak his bedsheets. She watched his gaunt body contort every which way in order to catch a breath he would never hold. That death was her first, she thought it so brutal then.

But no, as it turns out, that was a gentle way to die - this is brutality, this is something truly sinister. Riza is horrified, she is devastated, and she feels a rage she has never known bubbling inside of her. What was the point? What could possibly be the reason for carnage like this?

She drops the child, unable to stand the weight of him, unable to face the idea that she may have been the one to kill him or that anything she did may have contributed to the result before her. The devastated anger boils in her bones and she screams, because that is all she can do.

She is suddenly surrounded by corpses, surrounded by the dead that she cannot save, people she cannot help. What the fuck was the point of becoming a nurse when there is nothing to be done about death like this?

Someone tries to help her to her feet, tries to tell her to run because they’re coming back . It must be some deep seeded human instinct to survive that has Riza rising to her feet and sprinting with the person who retrieved her. She’s a block away when she registers what she’s done, that she’s abandoned Elizabeth’s son to follow a man she’s never met before.

He’s wearing a blue military uniform, a Master Sergeant if she knows the epaulet system as well as she thinks she does. He’s still holding her arm as they are running through the streets. He looks uncomfortable with the gun in his hand (at least he’s holding it wrong so Riza takes a wild guess that it comes from discomfort) but he knows where he’s going, he acts like he does anyway.

Their path is interrupted by a small group of… insurgents? Ishvalans? Rebels? Riza doesn’t know, nor does she particularly care.

The soldier with her raises his gun and fires two shots, both of which only serve to get the attention of the group before them.

“Give me that!” Riza snaps, stealing the gun and shooting. Once, twice, five times, each man before them crumbles to the ground.

“Holy shit,” the guy behind her breathes.

“We have to go back, Elizabeth’s-”

“We’re almost at the training center-”

“But-”

“They’re dead, ma’am, we have to keep running!” Another explosion blasts in the distance, Riza sees the smoke before she hears the sound or feels the tremble of the Earth.

Dead. Elizabeth is dead. The baby is dead. Elizabeth’s whole family… they wouldn’t have left her alone in that house, are they all gone? Was Linda close by? Or Aunt Gina? Did they cry out for help or were they dead before Riza’s arrival?

The solider continues to take her to the training center. Riza is pretty sure she’s crying but she can’t feel it, all she can feel is the warm metal of the gun in her hand and the slick blood still coating her skin. A mix of hers and Elizabeth’s, Elizabeth’s blood because she was crushed in a collapsed building; because Riza couldn’t save her and-

“Still got that gun ma’am?” The officer asks and Riza shoots at the masked man in their way.

They reach the training center, a group of soldiers are helping civilians into the building. One of those soldiers standing by the barbed fence rushes over to them.

“Breda! You okay!?”

“I’m alive, counts for something right?” The soldier - Breda - sounds relieved.

“Good to hear, we’re on lock down duty. Are you hurt ma’am?”

She looks at the man in front of her and shakes her head, “Just a few… burns and scratches.”

“You can wash up in the- woah is that your gun Breda?!?”

“It’s better in her hands than mine, calm down Havoc.” Breda rolls his eyes.

Riza is still looking over her shoulder, uncertain if she can count on the relative safety she’s found here.

“Ma’am?” Breda tugs at her bicep again, “What’s your name?”

Her throat closes up, she doesn’t know why but instead of giving her full name she spits out: “You can call me Hawkeye.”

“Sure,” Breda nods. “You’re good with that gun, think you can keep it for me?”

“You don’t want to be armed?” Riza asks wildly.

“Always a good idea to have an inside guy if shit hits the fan,” Breda says.

“Translation - he’s a shit shot and would rather you take it.” Havoc responds, “Let’s get you both inside, doesn’t look like-”

“Get down!” Riza snaps when she spots another truck barreling down the road. It takes less than half a second for Riza to fire two shots, one directly into the tire causing the vehicle to spiral out and the other catches one of those aggressors.

“Well fuck me sideways she is a good shot.” Havoc cringes when the truck skids and flips down another street.

“Told you,” Breda shrugs.

“We should all head inside, Eastern Command issued a total lockdown of the city.”

Riza allows the other soldiers to lock off the gates, she wonders how many people are now trapped in a city under attack. 

“What the fuck is going on out there, Breda? I knew you took your lunch breaks seriously but this takes the cake.” Havoc shoves Breda’s shoulder and the other man scowls.

“Last I heard? Seems like the Ishvalans aren’t too pleased with the newest executive order.”

“What executive order?” Riza asks, narrowing her gaze at the two soldiers.

“Hm?” Havoc asks as the building shakes with another distant explosion.

Breda grunts before explaining in hushed tones. “Just got announced publicly a few days ago, The Führer has ordered the total extermination of the Ishvalans.”

Riza feels like she’s fallen into some other world, into some horrible place that can’t possibly be real life. This is a nightmare, this isn’t reality. It simply can’t be.

“Are you sure you’re uninjured ma’am? That’s a lot of blood.”

She sees Elizabeth in her mind again, the way her body was smashed by concrete and how much blood there’d been when she haphazardly delivered her baby. The baby that she had crushed or had been crushed inside of his mother. The baby that she left in a deserted alleyway because he wasn’t breathing. Riza wonders if the baby could have been saved-

“Hey, stay with me,” Havoc gets in front of her and she steals herself.

“What can I do? How can I help?” Riza asks, her hands are shaking but she can’t let herself be coddled at a time like this.

“I think you-”

“I’m a nurse, I can help,” she cuts him off before he suggests something stupid like resting.

“Jeez woman, can you do everything?” Breda scoffs.

“We usually can,” she mutters. “Take me to where the wounded are.”

The mess hall is being used as a makeshift hospital and it is utter chaos. Riza shouldn’t be surprised - scratch that, she isn’t surprised, but she is horrified by it.

She only has one choice which is to keep going, so she does. She turns off the parts of her that want to scream and cry, instead she heals. She washes wounds and patches up bodies where she can; she sets broken bones and tries her best to help where she can.

It’s not enough, people are dying, both in this space and out on the city streets. There’s only so much she can do but it makes her feel so stupid and useless regardless. She feels like the world is ending and she is the only one fighting to keep it spinning.

Finally, there are no more patients in need of immediate medical care. She slumps off to the hall where she allows her buzzing ears a rest from all the noise. It’s dark out now, hadn’t it just been a lovely afternoon a few moments ago? Hadn’t the world been so peaceful-

No, it hadn’t been peaceful, that’s the whole point of this, isn’t it? There has always been war, silent and creeping in the background of the world she was raised in. War that was a constant irreverent pustule on an otherwise dignified society. Dignity, could Amestris claim such a thing when their ruler called for the extermination of a whole group of people?

This country, the one her husband is fighting for- oh god her husband is out there somewhere. He has borne witness to things like this nigh on every day for the past year of his life. Roy… her sweet Roy, she hopes that wherever he is he doesn’t feel the earth shattering anguish that she feels now.

“Hey, Hawkeye, right?” She glances up to see Havoc holding out a mug to her. “It’s not much but it’s what we have.”

It’s a murky spiced tea that reminds her of her childhood out in the West. How had things been easier in that place? How had the world been more manageable then?

“Thank you,” she takes the mug and cradles it against her sternum. “Could I get your name?”

“Warrant Officer Jean Havoc, at your service,” he salutes her and then gestures to the empty patch of wall beside her. She nods and he takes a seat, “Breda told me about your… well who he assumes was… anyway, I’m sorry. It’s a horrible loss.”

Riza nods, “Yeah… I think I owe your friend for helping me… I’m not sure I would have left on my own.”

Havoc pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, “Well he says you took down no less than six guys on your way here. I think you’re even.”

Riza sips her tea, trying not to flinch at the scent of smoke. Elizabeth’s house had smelt of smoke and burning bodies… it was putrid.

“You mind if I ask where you got those skills? They don’t typically give nurses time at the gun range as far as I know.”

Riza chuckles limply, “My grandfather taught me.”

“Well you’re a hell of a shot, Hawkeye. Name’s pretty appropriate if you ask me.”

“How long… how long will we be on lock down?”

Havoc shrugs, “Until they get control of the city, could be hours. I’d bet at least a day.”

Riza nods, “And you… what’s your specialty?”

“I’m pretty good with a gun myself,” he tells her with a waggle of his eyebrows. “I’ll have you know.”

She gives him a look of disbelief, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Is it working?”

“I’m married.”

“Damn,” he snaps his fingers, though he only looks mildly disappointed. “Guess I’ll have to settle for comrades in arms.”

She shakes his offered hand, “Have you… have you seen any action before now?”

Havoc takes a long drag of his cigarette, “No… not like… not like this. Is it bad out there? I only saw from the gate what was going on.”

The bursts of explosions flash behind her eyelids as she closes her eyes. The scent of smoke and burning flesh still tinges her nostrils. She curls in on herself squeezing her knees tight to her chest.

“Yeah… yeah it’s bad out there.”

“Fuck.”

-

The first day passes with relative calm, people are organized and while there is still fighting going on in the streets they are able to distract themselves. Each subsequent day gets harder, children get restless, the wounded get worse, and their supplies are already starting to dwindle dangerously low.

They keep a radio on to listen for updates but there is no news, either the story of East City hasn’t gotten to the upper brass or nobody cares. Based on personal experience, Riza would bet on the latter.

She isn’t sure if they’ve made it to a full week of waiting, all she knows is that she is tired of it. She knows they won’t last much longer sitting here waiting for some miracle whose likelihood of arrival is dwindling by the minute.

“Master Sergeant, a moment?” She asks when she notices Breda idling around the mess hall.

He glances around the compound and nods for her to join him in the hall.

“Any updates?” She asks once they’re far enough away from the other refugees.

“No word from Eastern Command yet.”

“Are you serious?” She asks.

He shrugs, “All we can do is wait for orders.”

“Is that really all we can do?” Riza narrows her gaze at him.

“Listen Hawkeye, I-... as much as I want to do something there’s nothing to be done. We have no information on who these guys are, what they’re looking for, or where they’re coming from.”

She hums in thought, “And if we went there ourselves?”

“To Eastern Command? I don’t know, I’m not sure they’d let us in, if they were able to contact us they would.”

“If they wanted to you mean,” she says under her breath. By the look he shoots her, she knows he’s heard her. “Well, regardless, we’re running out of food and medicine for the wounded. There has to be a supply cache nearby.”

“You’re not serious, you’re actually thinking of going out there?” Breda looks at her with a discerning expression.

“If the military is intent on abandoning us then we have to do what it takes to survive,” she insists.

“Yo Breda! Taking a break?” Havoc saunters over stamping a finished cigarette into the bottom of his boot. “Hawkeye, good to see you.”

“Under better circumstances I’d have agreed,” Riza still has a calculating look in her eye.

“She’s planning something, I think I’m scared.” Breda tells Havoc with a look that must communicate something he doesn’t want to say aloud.

“Good,” Riza says without a hint of humor.

“Hawkeye?”

“We can’t keep sitting here, if Eastern Command won’t give us orders we’ll just have to do it ourselves. Supplies are running low, do you know where there might be a supply cache?”

Havoc grimaces, “Well… I can’t technically tell a civilian-”

“Good thing we’re comrades in arms.” She sighs, “Look, I’ve already talked to some of the others. We’re willing to go without support if you’re afraid of retribution. We all agree that starving to death is a worse option than potentially running into more danger.”

Havoc and Breda share a glance, “We’re not the ones in charge, we’ll have to go to our commander about it.”

“Fine, but hurry, we want to get going while it’s still light out.” Riza turns back to the hall to inform the other civilians of the plan. She isn’t sure when or how she became something of a de facto leader for them but she thinks it might have something to do with the way she carries herself. Being raised in a military household forces one to have that sort of air about them and Riza, for all she’s been through, hasn’t forgotten those lessons.

It takes a few hours of waiting, the other women get restless and suggest that Riza try to approach the soldiers again for an update. She waits another hour or so before she sets out to find either Havoc or Breda. She scours the halls for them and eventually decides to move further than she ever has before into the training center. Technically it’s for personnel only, but they are - currently - in something of a dire situation.

She finally finds Breda, Havoc, and several other officers standing at attention as one man scolds them. At least, Riza thinks he’s scolding them but right now he’s not saying anything, just standing there as if he’s finished berating them. He starts to walk down the line again, his voice is low and harsh as he goes on.

“Now, I know you boys think you know what’s best, but we are soldiers. We do as we are told, when we are told to stay put and wait for instruction, we do it. When we are told to fight, we do it. And when you are told to shut the fuck up and keep as you were, you do it. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the men all salute in a line and Riza is grateful that she can confidently treat this man with little regard. What a dick .

“Ma’am, this area is off limits,” the man turns to her. He’s got the stars of a Brigadier General and the attitude of a petulant toddler.

“The other women and I have been sitting around for hours-”

“This is not a community picnic, you cannot expect us to dote on you 24/7.”

“If you’re going to keep us here we deserve information at the very least. All we asked for was permission to seek out supplies.”

“And you have a lot of fucking nerve to demand anything from us when we are so graciously giving you and yours shelter.”

Riza is unfazed as he sneers at her, “I take it our request for help has been denied then?”

“Vehemently,” he snaps.

“Wonderful,” she does not wait to be dismissed, courtesy be damned.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He calls after her.

She continues down the hall without looking back, “What you won’t.”

“You’ll die out there.”

She might, in fact, die out there, but it is a far preferable fate than starving to death because one man is too much of a bootlicker to care about the lives of others. She stops before she can return to the women, they’ll expect an update, a plan of some kind, she doesn’t have answers - hell she doesn’t even know the city that well-

“Pst!”

She turns and spots an older man - well it’s hard to discern his age really but he sports a mop of gray hair - poking his head out of a nearby room.

“Yes? Can I-”

“Sh!” He waves her over and gestures into the room.

She scurries into the room and waits as he checks the halls before closing the door.

“You’re Hawkeye, right?” He whispers, she nods wordlessly in return. “Sergeant Vato Falman, ma’am. Jean said you were looking to do a supply run.”

“That’s right,” she whispers back as Falman walks to the lone desk in the room that is otherwise full of file boxes and book shelves. She follows just a few steps behind as he rifles through a few files.

“Don’t mind General Hakuro, he’s a righteous prick and… well let’s just say there’s a reason he’s here and not out there. He words righteous prick come to mind…”

If the circumstances were less dire, Riza might have laughed. “Seems that way.”

Falman spreads out a map on the table, “Can you memorize it?”

She hesitates and he nods in response pulling out a rudimentary replica. She reads the map and takes it all in, the supplies are located in a bunker along the riverwalk. It’s more exposed than Riza would have pegged it for and that makes her uneasy.

“All you need to know,” he says emphatically and even quieter than before. “Is that if you hit the southern bridge you’ve gone too far. It isn’t manned - or at least it shouldn’t be - but there is a code.”

He takes the real map and turns it over 9-1-5-7, she can remember that.

“Thank you,” she tells him, folding the forged map up tight.

“Don’t thank me until you make it back… respectfully.” He rubs the back of his neck as a blush tinges his cheeks.

“Right…” She takes a breath and shakes his hand. “Hope you don’t get in trouble for this.”

“Appreciate the concern, ma’am, good luck out there.”

He salutes her before she slips back into the hall.

When she returns to the mess hall the other women who have agreed to help with a supply run swarm her. Riza informs them that they won’t have back up on this, one of the ladies says that if they can make it back to her place her car might still be there to use. Another woman says her husband has a small collection of guns stowed away in the basement.

Suddenly, Riza feels like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as she had previously felt.

“Don’t count us out,” Riza snaps to attention as Havoc’s voice infiltrates her conversation.

“Warrant Officer, aren’t you busy with patrols?” Riza asks wearily.

“Ah, don’t do that, you’ll ruin my very real offer of insubordination.”

“Not so loud!” One of the women glances around skittishly.

“Sorry,” Havoc cringes.

Breda rolls his eyes, “Listen if all’s fair in love and war, I’m sure the military will forgive a few measly soldiers for ‘getting in on the action’.”

“Are… you joking?” Another woman asks with a fold of her arms.

“Not at all,” Havoc says. “We’re as sick of sitting around here as you are. A supply run is just what we need to stretch our legs.”

Riza is not so stupid as to think this offer is coming from a place of pure hearted goodwill, but she’s also not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“We have three hours until sunset. Maya, how far is your house from here?”

“Twenty minute walk, but I can’t guarantee the car is still there,” she says looking at her hands almost shamefully.

“It’s a gamble we have to take,” Riza tells her confidently.

“You know, I think one of the clunkers in the back is finally getting the boot.” Havoc says a little louder than he should. Honestly, his help is appreciated but his subtly is garbage.

“Yeah, good thing too, we won’t miss that old thing,” Breda snickers, slapping Havoc’s shoulder.

Riza looks at the other women who are all making the face that Riza wants to make.

“One group to Maya’s and the other will catch them on twelfth street after a pick up at Tori’s, if we’re quick this could all be a thing of the past in less than 90 minutes.” Riza concludes the plan.

“And how long do we wait for each other?” One of the women asks.

“I’ll go with Tori’s group and make that call,” Riza insists.

The group of eight women all nod to one another, Riza feels a swell of pride and anxiety in her chest. This is stupid and brave and a horrible thing that they are attempting, but they will do it because they have to. 

Women are like that, Riza has learned in the years she spent surrounded by girls at the academy; they will do stupid, horrible, brave things to survive. Women are always scraping by, they are desperate to survive the circumstances the world deems fit to put them through. Her mother had, she had - she continues to - and even in small ways her friends had always rallied together to survive.

Riza remembers Elizabeth’s tenacity most, how she was always the first to include someone, always the first to snap back when boys got too handsy at the dance hall. Elizabeth who never got the chance to hold her baby, Elizabeth who didn’t survive but, were she here, she’d fight like hell for the women around her. Riza wants to be like that, she wants to be like Elizabeth.

The small group of women sneak out of the compound through the kitchens. It’s not very difficult, which she thinks Breda and Havoc should probably take note of, and soon the group is split in two.

Riza still has Breda’s gun, Breda, Havoc, and two other soldiers tired of the General’s shit will also rendezvous once they get a moment away. Tori’s house is in ruins, some of the structure remains but not much. She doesn’t look angry or upset, her resolve is staggering as she wades through the wreckage to find the basement. The lock on the bulkhead doors is still firmly shut and she cracks it open without issue.

Seven guns are passed around, Riza takes the long gun - a hunting rifle according to Tori - while a few of the other girls hesitantly grab the remaining hand guns.

Riza gives the girls some pointers and reminds them to only shoot as a last resort. They agree and head back to the decimated streets. It shocks her that not all of the city is rubble, it feels like sporadic bursts of conflict have caused only partial destruction.

Still, Riza would call the damage they come across catastrophic. The streets are uneven and the buildings are either charred or crumbling. Other buildings are completely untouched, though the sky is still foggy and yellowed from debris.

Havoc and Breda round the corner in their vehicle before Maya’s group returns. Riza’s fingers are tingling with nerves but she doesn’t show it. Instead she returns to the map from Falman and hopes to god it’s enough. No, she knows it is, she has to believe that.

Finally, after what feels like hours, Maya’s group returns in a town car, somewhere along the way they picked up a few munitions of their own. Riza loads herself up into the military car and guides Havoc in the right direction.

She sees where they need to go and she is quick to instruct the others. Hang back, wait for her to return once the door is open, be fast, be efficient. If anything goes wrong head back immediately. 

It takes all of five minutes for things to go wrong, before Riza can finish descending the stairs towards the riverwalk a gunshot whizzes past her she sees a soldier standing on the opposite end of the river. She raises her own gun and fires, hitting her assailant right in the shoulder.

Instead of leading her attacker to her desired location she doubles back. There are more men joining that one - before she knows it, she’s in a fire fight. It is chaos, all she knows is that she has back up and that she is killing people.

The first time, back when she and Breda were running through East City she hadn’t registered those men as people. Perhaps it was the facemasks or the blur in which it all happened; but now, this, she can see them even at this distance. They are people, they are human beings and she is killing them. They want her dead, they want to hurt her, and she is returning that sentiment.

When the wave of violence is over she is still looking through the scope of the gun, swallowing the harsh reality of what she’s done. This really is a war now, they’re fighting back instead of remaining idle victims. It makes her nearly throw up as she lowers her gun.

What takes her out of that moment is a bright flash and as Riza snaps her attention away from the other side of the river she sees a few civilians that give her pause. They’re wearing bright orange vests that read Press as if anyone cares to read a vest before killing in a place like this. One of them is holding a camera and the other has a recording device as he approaches.

“War correspondents from the Amestrian Times, I’m James Sutherland.” 

Riza turns back towards where the corpses of her victims lie, she doesn’t want to talk to a reporter, let alone acknowledge what just happened.

“Can you tell us what’s going on? We’re trying to investigate the conflict here,” he says, not totally unaware of the suddenly uncomfortable air around them.

Nobody says anything for a long time and then Maya steps forward, gunpowder blackening her fingers and tears slipping down her cheeks.

“We are the women of East City,” she says with a wobbling voice. “And we are tired of being told to die quietly.”

Notes:

.... so you're welcome? Lol angst monsters like me how we feelin?

Chapter 16: Chapter 15

The rest of the supply run goes by smoothly, they load up the cars with food, medicine, and munitions that Riza is uncertain they’ll be able to use. The models look older, she’s not a weapons expert by any stretch of the imagination, but with her anecdotal experience she can confidently say that bullets are not universal.

As the last of the crates are loaded into the cars Breda, Havoc, and the other soldiers look wearily at the women.

“Going back will be a bit of a challenge, especially for us,” Havoc says.

“If you’re planning to stay out in the field you can say that,” Riza responds humorlessly.

“Cold, Hawkeye.”

“I’m trying to be realistic, I think it’s a bad idea. Now that we know we can sneak away I think it’s smart to go back to the training center, at least to rest. The immediate need was supplies and we’ve got them.”

“That’s not the point,” Havoc insists.

“It’s not?” Riza challenges him. It’s quiet for a moment, confirming her suspicions. She turns back to the women with a sigh, “Maya, take the first car back, be careful and make sure the girls back at the compound keep this to themselves.”

“You’ve got it,” Maya nods.

“You can hide your car in a garage two blocks east, there was an old pizza joint with a huge garage but it looks like it’s already been ransacked.” Breda supplies her with further information.

“Hurry back,” Maya implores them.

Maya takes a group of girls in her supplies laden car and heads back to the training center. While the remainder of the women continue loading the military vehicle Riza turns back to Havoc.

“You’re trying to investigate, right? Trying to figure out who’s attacking the city?”

Havoc nods once, “The city being under constant bombardment for over a week isn’t normal even in times of war and especially not against a rebel force. The Ishvalans have been holding their own but that’s in territories they already had control over, they had guns supplied from the south but nothing like what would be required for this.”

“We’re going to try to rendezvous with some of my friends at Eastern Command,” Breda tells her gruffly. “They might have more answers than us.”

Riza pauses, thinking about what that could possibly entail. She’s curious, certainly, but she’s also exhausted from their brief stint of combat. She’s hit with the sinking sickening reminder that she has killed people. One of her victims (victims, she has victims plural oh god) wasn’t wearing a mask and she could see his face through the scope of her gun.

A realization shakes her to her core then, that man… that man she shot was blonde. Not white Ishvalan hair but bright Amestrian blonde… had she killed an Amestrian soldier?

“Let me come with you,” Riza decides. Her heart might burst in her chest before she gets any answers but she will be damned if she doesn’t try. What the ever-living fuck is going on here?

Havoc and Breda look at each other and shrug in sync.

“Fine, you’re too good with that gun not to use it. We can find a perch for you and you can back us up,” Havoc says.

Riza nods, turning back towards the girls and instructing them to return to the shelter. She promises to be back soon but honestly, Riza isn’t sure how likely an outcome that is. The other two soldiers who accompanied them head back with the women, Havoc instructs them to look out for the ladies and cover their absence if need be. Once the women are gone from view Riza turns to the soldiers.

“So? Where to?”

Breda and Havoc look at each other and begin coordinating their side mission. Riza stands off to the side watching with keen eyes for any other insurgents who may have heard the previous fight. They come to her with a game plan and tell her they’ll be heading out on foot - which she could have guessed given their ride is headed back to the training center.

Breda, Havoc, and Riza reload their weapons, taking a brief moment to feed and hydrate themselves before heading out. They don’t talk as they head to their rendezvous location, Riza keeps her mind clear though her heart is pounding in her chest.

They arrive at a portion of the city that is less destroyed than the other sectors they’ve run through. It’s dark now, the new moon means that there is nearly no light at all in these hauntingly empty streets. Only a sparse few street lamps remain alight and the river looks like a long stretch of ink beside them.

Havoc takes her into an office building and helps her set up a sniper perch.

“There are two guys coming from Eastern Command.” He whispers as he scours the room for blankets to pad out the sound but settles for towels when none seem to be around. “Breda and I will recognize them on sight, one or both of us will make this motion. If you see that, we’re in the clear.”

“Got it,” Riza says, rummaging through her bag for a cloth to clean the scope lens.

“You know, it’s kind of freaking me out how calm you are.” Havoc admits with a weak laugh.

“We can’t afford anything less,” she says stoically. “Now get out there, I’ve got it from here.”

He nods once, making sure she knows the signal for safety again before he heads out. Riza lays on her stomach and waits. It’s cold, her fingertips are freezing, and she feels like there’s a lump in the back of her throat.

She thinks about Roy and his gloves, she understands better why he’s so grateful for each new set. She feels guilty she hasn’t sent him a pair in a while, she hopes he’s not cold. She wonders what he would think of her now, a rebellious woman trying to defend a city that isn’t even her home. She can’t picture the face he would make and it makes her ache with hollow despair.

Truth be told, she’s terrified, she’s pretending the trembling coursing through her body is simply a result of shivering, but she’s frightened to her bones. She thinks about that Amestrian blonde head she shot earlier, she wonders how old he was, if he was a boy or a man, if he has a sweetheart somewhere who is none the wiser to the fact that he is never coming home.

Just as she’s wishing she had a pocket watch to tell the time - she assumes it is somewhere in the range of one in the morning - she sees the dark outline of two figures emerging from a side street. Immediately, she trains her gun on where she knows Breda and Havoc are concealing themselves.

Sweat beading on her brow, her shaking hands guide the gun’s view, following Havoc as the two reveal themselves to their new guests. She sees Havoc's hand behind his back making the signal to stand down and she almost cries with relief.

The thing is, she isn’t relieved, she’s still on edge because this is wrong. Something isn’t right and she doesn’t know why. So, instead, she uses the scope to observe their surroundings. She scans the area as the four soldiers shake hands.

It’s so brief, she sees a glint of metal in one of the windows and her heart sinks. Her hands act for her the moment she sees a head creep closer to the window, she shoots without hesitation.

She sees his face, well she sees his eyes in the scope of her gun, he’s wearing a dark mask like many of the assailants have. She sees his body flop out of the window and she turns her attention back to Breda and Havoc. They have their guns drawn and are scanning the area, pulling their contacts from Eastern Command back towards their previous hiding spot.

Riza’s scope finds its way back to the body of the man she shot, he’s not moving. He’s not moving which means he’s either dead or playing dead, Riza cannot decide which is worse.

She finds herself waiting again, waiting to see if anyone will attack her. Waiting to see if anyone will come looking for her, waiting for Havoc and Breda to return with information. Waiting… Waiting… isn’t she always waiting? To be older? To be good enough? To be safe? To be free? Waiting for her grandfather to trust her, waiting for Roy to come home. Always… always waiting.

There’s a pounding of footsteps leading up to her perch, Riza turns her gun towards her intruders but instead she is faced with Havoc, Breda, and their two contacts holding their hands above their heads.

“It’s us Hawkeye, we’re set,” Havoc tells her.

“Thanks for the back up,” Breda nods as she slightly lowers her weapon.

“Who was that? The man in the window?” She asks, willing her voice to remain firm.

“They… well, it’s a long story,” one of the men says, his voice trembling as he looks at her wearily.

“And you’ll get it, Hawkeye, but first we need to get out of here.” Havoc tells her holding his hands out in a placating manner.

Riza lowers her weapon completely and nods, “Where to next?”

“Back to the supply cache, it’s practically a bomb shelter but the tunnel has an exit to the sewer. It’ll be harder to track us through there.” The other, more confident looking soldier says.

She slings her weapon over her shoulder and follows after the men. They take up a brisk pace and by the time they reach the bomb shelter dawn is just beginning to crack through the endless expanse of night.

The five of them hole up in the shelter, their eyes darting between one another as they patiently wait for someone to speak up.

“By the way, Hawkeye, this is Marv and Dylan. Marv, Dylan meet Hawkeye.” Havoc awkwardly nods towards the two men in front of her.

“Pleasure, ma’am,” Marv nods to her.

“So um, not to be rude but what the fuck is going on here?” Breda asks with a fold of his arms.

“Right, so… here’s the thing…” Marv sighs, “I think… I know based on the records that I was going through that this whole attack isn’t being reported to higher ups. Or if it is, they’re treating East City as a lost cause.”

Havoc looks shocked, “Are you serious?”

“What do you mean a lost cause?” Breda asks for clarification.

“No plan to send back up forces, no communications with upper brass beyond status reports, and absolutely no plan to evacuate civilians.” Marv says; he sounds defeated and glances nervously at Riza when he says that last bit.

“Fuck,” Havoc hisses.

“That’s not all,” Dylan says. “Eastern Command is refusing to take action, quote ‘until upper brass gives a command for it’ and General Boris told us specifically that our orders are to wait this out. Apparently, the Ishvalan insurgents are bound to run out of fire power at some point.”

“But here’s the weird thing,” Marv intervenes. “How long have you all been out of the training center for?”

“Almost twelve hours now,” Breda responds thoughtfully.

“And it doesn’t seem like the city is being… you know, occupied right? Like it’s apocalyptic, there’s no one around. No patrols in the streets, no trying to claim the city as won, nothing .” Dylan says emphatically, his eyes darting back towards the door as it settles on its hinges. They all wait a few moments before returning to the conversation.

“It is odd,” Breda notes. “Do you know if the story of the attack has reached the rest of the country?”

“We know the Führer was made aware but I’ve been scanning the radio reports and there has been almost nothing. Today there was a concern about the trains being shut down coming into the East except for military authorized shipments but other than that… again, nothing.” Dylan says, “It’s like they’re trying to make the entire East fend for themselves.”

“But why?” Havoc asks.

“My guess? Pro-Ishvalan protests from a few weeks back, the East has always been more sympathetic to their plight and the war.” Marv sighs, “Remember that demonstration at Eastern Command? I think they’re pissed and want to punish them for it.”

“But… it doesn’t make sense, for that to be true that means they’re sending people to fight here. How would they… is it really Ishvalan rebels?” Havoc insists.

“I thought I saw something strange a few days before the attack,” Dylan says. “I came across intel that suggests they put out false information to be gathered by the rebels. Notes that the Führer’s wife would be here, maybe that’s why they haven’t tried to claim the city, they’re looking for one woman.”

Riza’s stomach drops hearing that… are they really using Mrs. Bradley as bait? Is all of this a song and dance to punish people for having empathy for Ishval? Did Elizabeth and her family die for the Führer’s petty distaste for civil demonstration? Her blood begins to boil at the thought.

Riza hesitates before speaking up, “I noticed something earlier… I think… I think there are Amestrian soldiers amongst the insurgents.”

“You’re kidding,” Dylan looks utterly taken aback.

“I’m not. One of the-... one of the men I shot, he wasn’t Ishvalan, that much I could tell. And I doubt they were sympathizers shooting at us. We were clearly a group of women trying to get supplies - they wouldn’t have wasted their time trying to kill us if they were looking for a hostage. They wanted us dead,” Riza’s throat is thick again. 

“So you’re saying the conspiracy is deeper than we could imagine?” Marv asks.

“We can’t confirm any of this, and even if we did… what would we do with this kind of information?” Havoc groans, a rueful snicker on his tongue. “God I didn’t sign up for a conspiracy, I signed up for benefits.”

Breda taps his shoulder playfully, “The benefits are that we get paid to sit on our hands and let them fuck us over.”

“I think we only have one option,” Riza shakes her head as if to rid herself of the very idea of a conspiracy. “We have to free the city.”

The four soldiers look at her with perplexed expressions.

“Uh… what?” Breda asks.

“If the government won’t help us we have to do it ourselves. I have it on good authority that there’s a small group of women who might help us. And I think… If there’s really not many people attacking the city… It’s clearly not an army by any stretch, it’s disorganized, and if they’re just looking for Mrs. Bradley there’s no way they have more than a few small squadrons.”

“Still, even with the women that makes us, what? Twelve people? It’s impossible.” Havoc says with a sigh.

“I disagree,” she asserts confidently. “Twelve people is a higher number than they’re expecting to fight back. Especially if this is a government organized attack. We can catch them off guard.”

“This sounds like a suicide mission,” Marv whistles. 

“Frankly I don’t care, survival comes first and to survive we have to get rid of what’s threatening us. We either die sitting on our hands or we die in the field - at least in the field death isn’t a guarantee.” She is resolute even if the thought of killing again makes her feel ill.

Breda nods, “She’s right, we have to do something… Do you know where the outposts are?”

Marv nods once, “Seems like there were two encampments, one located south of the city and one northeast.”

“Then we’ll take a rest and get back to the training center… Do you really think the women will help, Hawkeye?” Havoc asks.

“They will because they have to,” Riza knows those women are aware of what’s at stake.

“You know what… I just thought of something else, we need to get this story leaked right?” Breda asks.

“Well… yeah, why?” Marv asks in return.

“We ran into a war correspondent, Sutherland was his name. Do you think you could get in contact?”

Marv thinks about it for a moment, “I could probably find a way but it’ll have to wait until we get to the training center.”

“Contact Falman on your com, I’m sure he can get you started figuring out where that reporter is located.” Havoc says, “And while you’re at it, tell him to inform the women we’re coming back, see who they can get on our side.”

“Right,” Marv starts pulling out a booklet of numbers and codes, along with a handheld radio he begins to fiddle with.

“Dylan, do you know where exactly the compounds are?” Breda turns his attention to the other soldier.

“Sure do.”

“Hawkeye, hand me the map would you?”

Riza does as she’s told and Havoc puts a hand on her shoulder, “Let’s make something to eat and get some rest, we’re going to need it.”

Riza agrees reluctantly and sets to work helping Havoc set up their rations for a meal. Marv contacts Falman who communicates to them that there’s been a heavy lockdown back at the training center and to hold out for a few days if possible. The women are safe, all of them, and Riza is so relieved she is able to sleep with relative ease.

By the time she wakes up the soldiers are putting together a game plan; she, Dylan, and Havoc are going on a recon mission through the sewers to scope out the southern encampment. Breda and Marv have been in contact with Sutherland’s office through Falman and are working on getting his help reporting on the battle to come.

When Riza sets out into the sewers she feels like she is not in her own head, not even in her own body. This is survival, this is about getting out alive and making it home. She’s not thinking about a government conspiracy, she’s not thinking about Führer Bradley potentially punishing the city for civil disobedience, all she is thinking about is one foot in front of the other.

Their recon mission is a success in the traditional sense. Cloaked in darkness they sneak their way to the compound and scope out the best place to land their assault. The camp has maybe thirty or so people, they are dressed in black tactical gear but Riza can tell one thing; these people are Amestrians. Some of them even have Amestrian stars on their shoulders indicating military rank.

Havoc looks furious, though Dylan reasons that some of them look more Aerugonian. That’s not surprising but still doesn’t change the facts, this insurgence, this fight is a set up to make Ishvalans look worse. To make the war more palatable and to foster ill-will in Ishvalan sympathizers; it’s brutal and sickening and cruel.

Riza is full of hate and it is an unfamiliar feeling. She doesn’t like the warmth of rage in her gut, it makes her feel less like herself, it makes her feel weak to give in to such an ugly emotion.

Once they regroup they come up with a plan of attack, Riza will set herself up in one of the nearby buildings and she will be the first to attack the compound. Then they say a prayer and hope to god they have enough firepower to take them down.

It doesn’t feel like much of anything at all, it feels like a thinly veiled attempt to make themselves feel better. Riza knows this now as she is perched in the third story of a building watching through her scope as men mill about the camp. 

The fear in her throat tastes like defeat, it takes like acquiescence and she doesn’t want to but she feels like she must. There are too many of them - nearly fifty men by her count. Fifty against fifteen are shit odds and she is now faced with the brutal reality that she chose this path. And for what? For a self righteous need to be right? Or for the self aggrandizing need to make herself a hero?

She closes her eyes and snaps herself out of her melancholy - she aims her gun at a man in the midst of his meal but she doesn’t shoot. Before, she’d been caught off guard, had acted on instinct and adrenaline, now she has to be smart, has to be calculating… and this, shooting one man out of fifty (realistically more) is a stupid fucking plan.

She does have a better way, she realizes, a tool in her arsenal that could save people. Even if she promised to never use it, even if she feels like this is a line she should not cross - she convinces herself that there is no other option.

She scratches the symbol of flame alchemy into the wooden floor beneath her, she’s been stitching it into gloves for so long it is almost automatic. Briefly, she wonders how she will catch a spark when she remembers the glorified lighter already in her hands. There’s hardly a thought in her head beyond an immediate need to survive, beyond knowing that all she wants is to get herself out of a situation she created.

Riza, calm and collected as ever, settles over the alchemy circle, her elbows acting at her touch point to the etching. She returns to her scope and zeroes in on the face of one of those men (insurgents, rebels, allies, foreigners, whoever they are) and breathes.

The inferno is instantaneous, she watches through her lens as the face of that man she shot takes the bullet before his skin sloughs off his bones. The screaming hits her with a delay as if reality is splintering, as if it too cannot keep up with what she has done.

The scent, the smoke, the bright white blaze brings tears to her eyes as she bears witness to a catastrophe of her own making. The screaming is so loud she almost doesn’t realize it’s coming from her own mouth. Something inside of her is crackling apart, like some part of her needs to break in order for her to survive this - she has to lose some semblance of sanity in order to endure a life where she is the culprit of actions as profane as this.

It is horrifying, what she has done is horrific. She can’t believe her father handed her this weapon when she was thirteen and told her to hold it close. She can’t believe her father created this alchemy and wanted it to exist. She can’t believe he knowingly gave her such a terrible curse and told her to bear it with grace. How is anyone meant to handle a power that can do this ?

She thinks of Roy, she realizes that this is what he has been doing for over a year now, how often did he cause destruction like this? How often has he seen people choke on the flames of his own creation? How can she ever face him again knowing that this is what she has thrust upon him?

She collapses back to the ground and scratches out the symbol - tearing at the wood like a rabid animal before she backs away from it like the damn symbol bit her. As if she wasn’t the one who did that, as if she isn’t the one who chose - with every stroke - to create that symbol and use it for her own aims.

Her trembling hand raises to her lips as the dull amber glow from the fire she started begins to fade. It is still so loud out there. The sounds of people dying have dissipated but the destruction continues, the crackling of fire not yet extinguished sounds like the snapping of bone. There’s franticness of a human sort too - she can hear yelling and sobbing and general confusion but all Riza can do is stare at the wreckage.

It would be unfair of her, she decides, to turn away from what she has done. She caused this, she brought people here, she chose to parade around her false sense of bravery, she chose to drag these women into hell. She chose to hand Roy flame alchemy and send him off to war with kiss goodbye. It doesn’t matter if she didn’t understand the weight of what she has been carrying all these years; she did that.

It doesn’t matter if she feels guilty, what has guilt ever done for anyone? All she has caused, all this pain and suffering she has implemented has been her own doing. She doesn’t think she deserves to feel anything at all

… and that thought makes her feel… empty.

Notes:

Alchemist Riza - my eternal beloved - one day I may write a fic where she's just a person and nothing else but like..... she's so hot as an alchemist lol.

Chapter 17: Chapter 16

“Hawkeye!? Hawkeye are you here!?” Havoc’s voice is finally what breaks the spell of shock that has totally consumed Riza. She feels herself return from whatever far away place she had forced herself in to cope. She feels so cold, so stiff, everything vaguely hurts and she isn’t certain what she should do about that.

The dull orange glow of the remaining blaze still lights the derelict building she haunts as the night threatens to consume her. There’s fire but she is not warm, cannot hope to get warm… she feels so alone, even as she stands to greet her collector.

“Shit, there you are! You didn’t come back! We waited half an hour for- are you hurt!? Did you cause that explosion?!” Havoc is breathless, his face dark with soot and dirt but his eyes are downright wild.

She feels, in the pit of nothingness that has settled in her gut, a bit of guilt at the way her comrade looks at her.

With an expression that is somehow both eerily calm and equally haunted, Riza takes in a breath.

“I’m okay… not hurt anyway.”

“Did you do that on purpose? That explosion, I mean, I just-… I’ve never seen anything like it!” The solider before her is trembling, clearly also reeling from the sheer magnitude of the alchemy laid before him. He cannot know it was alchemy, he cannot know that she is capable of that .

“I-… I don’t know. I must’ve… shot a barrel of gun powder or explosives or… something,” her voice peeters off as embarrassment threatens to overwhelm her. This horrible thing that she has done; the anguish comes and goes in waves as she tries to grapple with it. As she tries to reason in her mind why and how she could ever do such a thing.

“You did damn good, Hawkeye, holy shit. We didn’t even have to put up a fight, you saved us. You saved them,” Havoc tells her, rubbing her shoulders as she realizes she’s trembling .

It doesn’t feel like she’s saved anyone. In fact, it feels like she’s failed. It feels like she was doomed from the start, like from the second she was born she was destined to fail, to carry the etching of destruction on her back.

She has the urge to scratch her skin off, she has the urge to crawl out of her very body, she thinks it would be easier if she could simply die.

“Let’s get you back to the others, you’re in shock and that’s… holy shit I might also be in shock.” Havoc leads her back to their ragtag group.

Tori steals her from Havoc, muttering about how pale she is and how she needs to rest.

Riza closes her eyes and sees that fire, she sees the blaze she created, she hears them screaming - they are screaming because of what she did and-

“Thank you!” Maya cries, wrapping her arms around Riza’s neck. “I was so scared but you- Thank you.”

Riza hears the click of the camera and flinches, burying her face further into Maya’s shoulder.

She doesn’t want to be seen, she doesn’t want to be perceived, she doesn’t want to exist at all. She feels like a curse, like a poltergeist following these women from tragedy to tragedy. Pulling them into it too, if she’s really honest. She brought them into hell with her and now… now they’ve seen the worst humanity has to offer.

The soldiers - seven of them now including Falman - investigate the camp for supplies and intel. If they find anything, they don’t tell Riza; she’s pretty certain they see her as fragile now. Fragile, a glass cannon, a weapon that can only be used once… her usefulness is dwindling and she’s okay with that.

Sutherland explains that his first story about the women and this conflict has already been published, an informant of his got the photos and article to the papers in Central. By tomorrow everyone will know that East City is a warzone, and Riza can’t bring herself to be grateful. What will Rebecca and Gracia and Jacqueline think? Will her grandfather have known or will this be the first he’s hearing of it? And Roy… god, poor sweet Roy…

Sutherland tries to interview Riza - the other women have apparently told him that she is their leader - but she declines to speak on it. She’s not sure she can… she asks him to keep her name out of it and he reluctantly agrees.

He looks at her with a mixture of confusion and reverence. He seems to be at a loss, wondering why anyone would deny the chance to be viewed or understood. Riza is simply afraid that if she’s seen, they will realize how utterly disgraceful she is.

Her mind wanders back to when the soldiers were trying to make sense of all this. She wonders, if all of this was truly put into motion because of protests… will the Times face similar backlash? Will that be her fault all over again? She can’t outrun the guilt; it is drowning her now, it will kill her, it will kill her and-

“Hawkeye? You with me?” Breda asks, kneeling in front of her. She nods wordlessly and he looks at her with a discerning eye. “Marv got word from Eastern Command, the northeast camp has been relocated further north.”

“Do we believe them?” Riza asks.

“For now, Havoc, Dylan, and I are going to scout ahead. I think you should come along, find a place to settle in before we do this all over again.”

It’s a vote of confidence, him saying that he trusts her. She wants to scream at him that he shouldn’t trust her, that he shouldn’t have ever trusted her. All she brings is ruin. All she brings is destruction.

And they want her to do it again… how could they want her to repeat a nightmare like that?

“Right,” she nods and gathers her things.

“Be careful,” Maya implores her. The other women look at her with confidence and it shakes Riza’s own. She doesn’t feel particularly deserving of their compassion… or their sympathy, whatever it is they’re trying to convey.

Riza and the soldiers follow the outskirts of the city while the rest of their cohort cuts through to Maya’s house. They’re afraid of retribution now and while the bunker has more supplies, they were already spotted there once. Just as Marv’s informants implied there is evidence of a hastily moved encampment in the northeast quarter.

When they finally reach the location of the new camp, Riza is disheartened to say the least. The camp is smaller in the sense that tents and equipment seem sparse, but it feels busier, more active, more alert. That’s bad for an ambush.

Riza finds a good spot, five stories up in an abandoned apartment complex, the windows are wide and shattered completely in the stairwells. Their plan is to return the next night, to rest and recover for a bit but Riza argues against this.

“We have to strike now while we have them on the backfoot,” she says without an ounce of emotion. “We have them on the run, we have to keep them there.”

What is left unsaid: I don’t know how long my resolve will hold. I’m already doubting everything, I already feel like I am being crushed by the weight of what we’ve done. Of what we are still doing. Please don’t make me think, please don’t make me sleep on this. I cannot handle this.

Havoc bites his lip but Breda nods. “You’re right and if you can do something like you did at the other camp it’ll be over in an instant.”

A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of using flame alchemy again.

“I’ll do what I can,” but she knows deep down she can’t do that again. Not ever again. Nobody can ever use such a terrible weapon again. Not for the first time in her life she hopes her father is rotting in hell for handing her an abomination and telling her to figure it out on her own. She hates him, hates him for dying, hates him for flame alchemy, she hates him for bringing her into this world at all.

“Right, you know where to look for the signal?” Dylan asks.

Riza nods once. “Did Falman ever hear back from his informants?”

“Not yet.”

“Is there a chance this has been called off? That they’ll just… leave?” Riza knows it’s a stupid question but she asks anyway, hope thick in her throat.

“Let’s… let’s get back to the rendezvous point and see,” Havoc concedes, looking at her with both understanding and pity. He knows that her hope is that all of this ends without the need for further violence. He wants it too; she can see it in his eyes.

They leave her set up and return to the makeshift camp that’s been created. There is no news, and no news means they go forward with the plan.

She swallows the defeat of that and promises to look for their signal, promises to get in position and wait. She walks briskly through the darkness, knowing that dawn is fast approaching. She isn’t certain what that means for her… well, she does and she doesn’t.

Her mind is still circling around the horror from before - the screams of those people who forged an attack on East City. She tries to remember that they are the reason Elizabeth and her baby are dead, she tries to remember the faces of those she could not save who succumbed to their injuries in the East City Training Center.

But suffering should not beget more suffering. This cycle is such a torrential whirlwind of terrible things. It feels like she’s suffocating.

What follows are the fragmented memories of a girl who threw herself to the flames from which she was born.

As she lies in a room on fire, the entirety of her back melting from the wound she inflicted upon herself she tries to recall why she did this. Why did she hurt herself?

She remembers ducking into the apartment building where she and the soldiers agreed to lay her nest. She knew she’d be expected to fight, to kill, to do what she had suggested they do. She remembers how heavy her stomach felt at the thought.

She heard someone coming, she hid in the shadows as three… no, two people… two people came into the stairwell of the derelict building.

If her memories can be believed… it was a woman. A woman and boy who… his face is so indistinct in her mind but she thinks he morphed into someone else. Someone familiar.

Whatever they spoke about shook her to her core, made her so sick she felt nearly weightless as she returned to her post and repeated the horrors she had inflicted on the other encampment. A whisper of cruelty reminds her that this was her fault, that Riza caused the destruction of East City.

She hates herself so much that she believes that little voice without question.

He would orchestrate a horror so profound your life would be snuffed out in an instant, Riza. He would kill hundreds if not thousands to be rid of you. I cannot express how little Bradley cares for the lives of others.

Her grandfather’s words echo so cruelly she winces from them and not the searing pain.

And maybe that’s why in the fractured part of her mind, the animalistic part of her that wants to survive this, she blames her grandfather for this.

Carrying flame alchemy was no longer something she could tolerate. She could not… she wanted to be a person again, not a piece of paper for a man who was too cowardly to face the reality of the monster he made. For the man who wanted this weapon so desperately he shoved her into the arms of a boy who made her think he loved her.

And maybe Roy did love her… maybe he does love her, somewhere so very far away; but it doesn’t matter because the stain on her skin was too great a burden to bear and she will not carry it anymore. She can’t.

One last time, she promised herself, one last time she would perform Flame Alchemy. She will not be a walking weapon a second longer than she has to. 

Her eyes burned as the pillar of light looked like the sun had drawn a line right down to earth. Some of the uncontrollable blaze licked at the walls of the apartment complex and she did not flinch in the face of that heat.

Tears and soot clung to her face. She felt possessed, unthinking - but no, this is what she wanted . The idea of the pain was so minimal when she was faced with the very real possibility of wearing her father’s legacy another day. She would rather die than keep on carrying this weight.

Dying would only be preferable so long as her skin was unreadable.

She remembers throwing herself - back first - into the inferno. She remembers that the pain took a moment to start, that the stench of burning clothes and hair came first.

She remembers the pain next. She won’t let herself forget that pain: Staggering, stinging, tortuous pain that she wanted to pull away from but she didn’t. Her base instincts were outweighed by her desire to maim her own person. She wanted this fire to destroy any evidence of that wicked alchemy more than she wanted the pain to stop. She will not be a slave to her father’s desires anymore, she will make sure that his research is lost.

At some point she came to be on the ground, coughing and crying. Her body acted on instinct, pulling her away from the blaze - but it was done. She could feel her skin melting as the pain gave way to numbness.

She remembers having the wretched thought that she was crying out in the same exact agony that she has inflicted on others; that she is certain Roy has cast onto hundreds if not thousands of Ishvalans. This is her penance, this is her atonement; this is the only way that she can pay back the pain she has caused others.

The last thing she remembers is that a pair of boots came into her line of vision, that someone had come for her.

There was a fleeting moment just before she lost consciousness where she wondered if they were an ally or an enemy. As she faded away she realized she didn’t care, she simply hoped that in the afterlife she is forgiven for her sins.

Notes:

Hi this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written I hope you liked it!

Chapter 18: Chapter 17

There’s a crunching beneath Jean Havoc’s boots as he runs through the wreckage. That woman is a weapon of mass destruction, that’s for fucking sure. This time, whatever she’d shot, had obliterated the encampment and several buildings nearby.

He was supposed to wait for her, Breda told him to wait, but Jean isn’t someone who can help himself. So, yes, he ran off from their outpost of shocked and terrified civilians to go looking for her. The crunching of snowlike soot fills the otherwise desolate area. The fires are still going, though the military personnel with them have done all they can to extinguish the worst of it, and Jean has a bad feeling deep in his gut.

He sees the flames still licking the sides of the building he knows she’s in and he’s suddenly sprinting. He skips steps up to the landing and chokes on the gasp in his throat.

“Hawkeye!? Hawkeye! Can you hear me?” He drops to his knees and shakes her, though he immediately pauses when he sees the way her skin melts just a bit more off her back. Her back holy fuck…

“Hold on, I’ve got you,” he says. Though it takes him a minute to figure out how to carry her without exacerbating her injury.

She’s dangerously limp in his arms and her body is hot to the touch. He knows she’s unconscious but he swears he can hear her moaning - he thinks he’s speaking too but he can’t be sure.

He was never supposed to see action like this, he’d been stationed in the training center and told that deployment was unlikely at worst… Now, here he is, with a comrade - a friend, a civilian no less - dying in his arms.

He wishes he had gotten to her sooner, he wishes he had been with her; he keeps running through a hundred different ways this could have gone down. None of those ponderings will change the fact that she has been mutilated. Nothing will change the fact that she is on death’s door.

It’s hard to run while keeping her still enough to not aggravate her injury further. The stirring in his chest is not quite panic and it’s not quite terror - he names it outrage for lack of a better word. He is outraged that they were left for dead by the very government they work for.

What was the point of joining the military if he was just going to be told to sit on his hands when the world is on fire? Why did he have to rebel in order to save his own corner of the world?

“Roy?” He hears her finally form a coherent word.

Havoc wishes he’d asked for her husband’s name and rank (was he even in the military? He assumed so, didn’t she mention a grandfather?) he could have written to the poor guy and let him know… He could have… God there’s a million things he could have done.

“Roy… help…”

“I’ve gotcha, Hawkeye, don’t worry.”

He finally reaches the encampment, Breda looks at him in complete and total shock as he calls for help.

Havoc watches as several much more qualified hands try to mend the horrible burns on Hawkeye’s back. The guilt starts to weigh heavier in his gut as Hawkeye’s meek whimpering turns into full blown screaming. 

“We… we’ve got to find her husband,” Havoc tells Breda as the two of them walk away.

“So, about that, Falman was already on it… there’s no record of a Hawkeye anywhere in East City or Central armed forces.”

“Fuck… you think he’s a civilian?”

“Doubt it, but hey… who fucking knows?”

“We have to… we have to figure it out… The guy deserves to know and… fuck.”

“Yeah… Yeah…”

Havoc pulls out a pack of cigarettes, then he remembers the scent of burning bodies, remembers the horrible black wash of soot covering every inch of that camp and he imagines that’s how the inside of his lungs might look; coated in black ichor, filled with a thick cloud of smoke. He tunes back into Hawkeye’s screaming, glances at the others who are injured with burns that reach the bone.

He puts the cigarettes away and follows Breda to their ragtag group of impromptu leaders. They’ll figure this out, they will because they have to.

---

Rebecca pays attention to ‘real’ news less and less these days. It’s just so difficult to see those papers covered in horrible photos especially when her own brother has just been wounded in action. It makes her stomach hurt, it makes her see red, it makes her feel like a bad person because she keeps digging herself into the hole of not understanding what’s going on beyond her bubble.

It doesn’t help that three of her best friends are pulled into the orbit of war by virtue of who they love.

She and Gracia have been spending more time together than ever before and Rebecca feels… she feels so stupid for never seeing the depths of her anguish.

“Sorry, I just never seem to be able to talk about anything else,” Gracia admitted one late night over the phone. “Riza and I just bounce back and forth between work and war, you and Jacqueline’s love lives and the war, Elizabeth’s baby and the war… I’m sorry, it must be so annoying.”

Rebecca sat stunned, “No, I’m sorry I’ve never asked.”

Gracia tried to change the subject, but the damage was done. Rebecca felt the need to block out the real world and all things related to the war. Who is she to complain? She’s not there, she’s not Ishvalan, she’s not hurting. Not like… not like so many others. What right does she have to speak on it?

Anyway, she’s on a third date with Trevor, he’s a law student that she’s still on the fence about and they’re talking about nothing. It’s blissful and he’s handsome enough to distract her from her musings.

It’s all going fine until they decide to walk through the night market. He’s in the middle of teasingly presenting her towels with quippy sayings when she glances sidelong to a paper seller.

This morning she bought a copy of Central Style on her way to work. She hadn’t even looked at the Times or the Tribune but now it’s all she can see. She makes a beeline to it, quickly slapping down a few notes and shakily clutching the paper.

Riza is there, emblazoned on the front page, looking disheveled and destroyed with a rifle in her hands. 

The women of East City have been under total lockdown for thirteen days with no end to the occupation in sight - and they’re finally doing something about it. East City’s girls have formed a militia in search of food, medicine, and other essentials in the midst of the bombed out city. The casualties are unknown at this time and the military has made no indication that they are aware of the crisis; nor have they announced any intention to assist the city. The women of East City had one message for the world, “We are tired of being told to die quietly” more of this story on page 6.

She feels tears leaking down her cheeks as she flips to the next page, the pictures of a devastated city greet her. Her chest hurts so intensely she wonders for a brief moment if she’s having a heart attack.

“Becca? You okay?” Trevor asks, concerned and mildly confused.

“I need a phone,” Rebecca says, her breath hitching in her throat. “I-… I need to get to a phone-”

“Sure, yeah, there’s a payphone a block away, let’s-”

She starts running because she needs to do something, she hesitates briefly, before realizing she doesn’t know Elizabeth’s number in East City. She curses as she dials up Gracia’s number.

“Hello?”

“Did you see the paper?” Rebecca asks, her voice quivering.

“No? I’ve been on night shift this week… what’s going on?”

“It’s-” a stray sob breaks loose from Rebecca’s mouth. “It’s East City… It’s un-under occupation and- and- and Riza’s in the papers with a gun in her hand and-”

“Slow down, what do you mean East City is under occupation? From who? From what?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t say, it’s just… Gracia, Riza’s out there fighting for her life, and god only knows where Elizabeth is with the baby… what do we do ?”

“I… Have you called Jacquline? Maybe she’s heard from Elizabeth.”

“I called you first.”

“I’ll call her and see… I’ll call Jacqueline, stay close to the phone alright?”

“I’m out I-… I’m at a payphone but-”

“Then call me when you get home okay? I’m… I might have to call out if… I have to call Jacqueline, just let me know when you’re home… or better yet just come to my place.”

Rebecca hangs up and turns to see Trevor looking at her with soft sad eyes.

“I… I’m sorry, I-”

“You know that girl then? On the front cover?” He asks gently.

She nods, more tears flowing down her cheeks, “I was her maid of honor.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I hate this stupid fucking war!” Rebecca collapses in that phone booth, tears she cannot control pooling in her hands as she tries to cover her face. Trevor kneels beside her, draping his coat over her and rubbing circles into her spine.

She thinks she must look particularly pathetic but she doesn’t care. Her best friend, the sister she never had, is in hell right now; and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.

She looks up at Trevor and kisses him, and perhaps it’s selfish but she needs to stop thinking about the war. She has to fill her head with petty, silly, stupid things because if she doesn’t… she will feel the gaping hole of uselessness in her gut so achingly prominent she will never claw her way out of it.

“Becca, we should get you home,” Trevor says kindly, pulling away from the kiss.

“I… I should… a friend of mine wants to…”

“I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.” He promises.

Rebecca allows him to lead her back to his car and down to Gracia’s apartment. She apologizes profusely for ending their date in disaster but he insists that it isn’t a big deal. She isn’t certain if she’s relieved or angry that he doesn’t believe this is a big deal. She lets it go the moment she’s in Gracia’s apartment, however.

The two girls are sobbing, clinging to each other and weeping as Gracia explains that Jacqueline has been calling Elizabeth’s home on and off all day.

“I can’t believe it,” Gracia says. “I just can’t believe they’re… I don’t even know what they’re going through and-”

“I know,” Rebecca gasps, “Me too… I… I feel like I should write to Roy or her grandfather but I don’t know what to say.”

“God, I hadn’t even thought of that… and Leon… and the baby… Maybe I should write Maes about it… he could… Oh I don’t know.”

“I feel so useless… I just… I just want to help.”

“I know… me too.”

They sit in Gracia’s kitchen for a long while, just staring at one another but unable to make sense of anything. Then, Gracia sighs and glances at the clock.

“I have to get going,” she shakes her head as she stands up. “I couldn’t get today off, but they said… they said I could tomorrow…”

Rebecca looks at her in disbelief; how are they expected to keep going when their world is shattering beneath them? How are they supposed to survive this and still show up to work on time?

How many people have been doing just that without Rebecca’s noticing?

“I’d like it if you would stay… I might get out early and I don’t… I don’t think I can come home to an empty house.” Gracia grips the back of her chair as she tries to suck down a sob.

Rebecca stands up and cradles her friend, Gracia’s blubbering comes back:

“It isn’t fair, it’s just not fair!” She weeps and Rebecca can only press a kiss into the back of Gracia’s head.

“I know,” Rebecca responds weakly. “I know.”

---

Roy is exhausted, his eyes droop dangerously as he heads to the makeshift chow hall. He has been in the field for ten days straight, with little sleep and even fewer rations. He knows he needs to eat, but he doesn’t want to. Everything here in Ishval is a chore, everything he has to do to survive makes him feel ill. He doesn’t deserve to rest easily after everything he’s done.

The only reason he does anything is for Riza, he has to make it home to her - he made a promise and he doesn’t go back on his promises.

“Hey, Mustang,” Hughes nudges him weakly as he grabs a tray. He joined Roy in the field four days ago after yet another of his commanding officers died.

“Hey,” Roy nods to him weakly.

“You get any rest?”

Roy shrugs, “I guess.”

“Good, Gracia sent me four letters while I was in the field and I need to rehash every detail!” He chuckles brightly, far more chipper than he has any right to be given the circumstances. It doesn’t matter that it’s a front, it’s still annoying as hell.

Roy fixes him with a dissatisfied look as they both plop down at a table. Andrew, Pete, and Wes are there looking over a newspaper with rapt curiosity.

“Hey Mustang, Hughes, it’s been awhile.” Andrew greets them with a smile.

“Long stint in the field, it’s like a lifetime has gone by.” Maes complains.

“I’ll say, you guys look like shit,” Pete chuckles.

“You’re one to talk,” Roy teases before devouring his meal.

“Any news on your girl back home?” Maes asks.

“Dude, I’m not going there, then you’ll have an excuse to go on a tangent about your girl and I don’t care.” Wes snickers.

“Not my fault my Gracia is the most perfect girl in the world.”

“Then keep her to yourself or someone will get ideas about stealing her,” Andrew teases.

“How dare you even suggest a thing!?”

“Because it’s funny,” Pete chuckles.

“Anything good in the papers? Your horoscope tell you that you’re getting laid some time soon?” Roy asks with a limp chuckle.

“Hilarious,” Pete rolls his eyes playfully.

“Actually it’s insane, apparently East City is under attack from Ishvalans,” Andrew says, flipping through the paper.

“Oh yeah and it’s crazy it’s been going on for over a week but we’re only just getting reports on it! It’s wild,” Wes says. “And the women are the ones fighting back trying to take the city.”

“No fucking way,” Maes says waving his hand in a dismissive motion.

“It’s front page news look,” Andrew pushes the paper towards the two of them.

Roy’s brain short circuits. He convinces himself that this is a trick of his exhausted mind while Hughes reiterates his previous sentiment with a breathless voice:

“No fucking way.”

Roy doesn’t care about the headline, he doesn’t even read it, he cares about seeing his wife in black and white holding a rifle. She isn’t looking at the camera, her gaze is fixed on the horizon, she looks dirty, her skirt is torn, and the look in her eyes is as haunted as his is now. She has the eyes of a killer.

What the fuck… what the fuck ? This isn’t right, it can’t be right, she’s in Central- she’s supposed to be in Central. She’s supposed to be safe.

He’s shaking his head as he grips that newspaper, “No… no no no no no no-”

“Is he okay?” Pete asks, suddenly nervous at the shift in Roy’s demeanor.

“When did you get this?” Hughes asks.

“It’s the 16th’s edition, apparently those women were stuck in a bunker with no help for almost two weeks so they decided to fight.” Wes supplements not taking his eyes off Roy.

Roy is still muttering to himself as he tries to make sense of it. Why in hell was Riza in East City? She should be home, she’s supposed to be safe she was never meant to… his learning flame alchemy was supposed to protect her. What has this all been for if she is… if she has to be… no… no .

He stands up and stalks out of the tent leaving behind a confused table of comrades.

“What’s his deal?” Wes asks.

“That was Riza,” Hughes says standing up to follow after his friend. “That girl in the photo, that’s his wife.”

Roy is running now, he is running across the camp because he needs answers and he needs them now.

“Tell the General I’m here to see him,” he snaps at the guard standing at attention outside of Grumman’s tent.

“Major I-”

“I am ordering you to tell him I’m here, soldier!” Roy’s voice is so thick with emotion the soldier has no choice but to scurry into the tent. Not a moment later he returns and motions for Roy to join Grumman.

The old General looks at him with a displeased scowl, “You should mind your temper, Major, it’s not a good look to throw your weight around like that.”

“I am seeking permission to be reassigned, sir,” he slaps the newspaper on Grumman’s makeshift desk. “Send me to East City.”

Grumman steals the paper and scrutinizes it for a second.

Roy finds himself snapping at his superior officer, “Don’t tell me you didn’t know, you had to have known and I-... I have to-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Grumman returns his sharp gaze up to Roy.

“Sir-”

“No one is going to East City, Bradley says it’s under control. Much as I hate to say it, we are powerless here.”

“You can’t be serious-”

“Major Mustang,” Grumman sighs as he stands from his desk, the paper crunching awkwardly in his hands. “We don’t get to choose where we go, we are tools for this government to use as it sees fit. If you didn’t want to follow orders you should not have joined the military.”

“I-...” Roy looks away from Grumman’s piercing gaze, “I was… following orders was supposed to protect her.”

“I know.”

“So let me protect her, sir.”

“You can’t.”

Who knew two words could destroy a man so thoroughly?

“General-”

“Whatever happens now… it’s up to Riza to survive. It’s not up to us,” Grumman claps Roy’s shoulder and for the first time he feels something like warmth between them. The two of them grieve for the same woman, they grieve and they are angry . “When we all survive this, there will be hell to pay; But we have to make it to that day first.”

Roy takes in a shuddering breath and nods.

“Return to your duties, Major. As far as I am concerned this conversation never happened.”

“Did you know? Did you know she was in East City?”

“No… I was going to ask if you did.”

“No sir, not even… I don’t even know why she would…”

It’s quiet then, a pause that covers them both in some feeling akin to grief but neither of them are brave enough to name it that. Roy salutes his commanding officer and walks briskly out of the tent towards his own. Maes intercepts him halfway there:

“Roy… come on man, let’s talk.”

“What is there to say?” Roy asks blandly, gesturing for Maes to walk with him.

“I’m sorry for one.”

“Yeah… yeah me too.”

“If anyone can survive this it’s Riza.”

“She shouldn’t have to survive anything, Hughes!” Roy grinds his teeth to keep from screaming.

“I know but… you have to believe in her.”

“What does it matter if I believe in her? She’s… she’s facing this and she’s facing it alone.” His voice breaks as he tries to fight the image he has of her swirling in his mind.

His Riza, his beautiful wife facing the sort of destruction he causes on a daily basis. It hurts his chest to think about it, his fingers itch and he wants to run. He has half a mind to desert just so he can try to get to East City on his own, he has to reach her.

But he can’t, he can’t get to her.

“I’m sorry, Roy… Riza’s a good sort. She’s strong, she’s fierce, and she’s wicked good with a gun. I know you’ll make it back to each other. You… you will because you have to.”

“I just… I feel like something horrible has happened to her,” Roy admits feebly.

“You can’t think like that.

Roy stops in his tracks and looks up at the stars, the same stars that hopefully right now, Riza is looking at too. 

“Yeah… Yeah…”

There’s nothing else to say, Maes realizes. Regardless, he stands and waits with his friend gazing at that sky full of stars. Knowing deep in the pit of soul for all his grandstanding he too fears that something horrible has happened to Riza. But supportive friends don’t say things like that… so he stays quiet and waits.

Maybe, in all that waiting, they’ll hear the tiniest whisper of hope that they desperately need to beat back the tide of dread.

Notes:

... They're so sad, your honor, and it's only gonna get worse! Thanks for reading!