Fic Update - The Source of Sorrow Chapter Three
The Source of Sorrow
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Eventually Roy/Riza but starts out Roy/OC, Riza/OC
Rating - R (for adult situations)
Time Line - anime based, future fic after that movie, with some manga elements like Xing, where Roy learned his alchemy and Armstrong’s other, older sister
Summary - Roy knows he has made a complete and total mess of his life but is he getting a second chance?
Author’s Note - This was written for the challenge put forth by tiptoeinthesnow and she wanted some speculation on whether or not Roy would end up as Fuhrer and some romance (okay this is far more angst than romance.) Also, the spark of this story came before the challenge after hearing some songs by Hinder and a few others (I could easily suggest a listening soundtrack for this one). Special thanks to Ishte, mulzrulz, and Mjules for helping me with the movie details (since I was unable to actually make it through the movie) and thanks to evil_little_dog and mulzrulz for the beta.
chapter one
chapter two
Chapter Three
Guilt is anger directed at ourselves. - Peter McWilliams
“I think it might actually rain,” Aris said, looking skyward. “Which I suppose is the whole point,” he added with a chuckle.
Roy took a sniff of the air. “It might just cloud up. It doesn’t smell like rain yet.” He yawned, still delightfully worn out from the night before. He didn’t even really mind being in the red robes again with fake flowers on his head.
“Boss.” Havoc surreptitiously pointed with his cigarette. “Looks like the captain has an entourage.”
Roy turned to see Riza heading his way with David and a passel of school children. Elicia bounced along with the crowd and he saw Gracia and Winry bringing up the rear. Elicia seemed thrilled to have all sorts of new friends her age. Roy schooled the look of desire off his face. “Captain Hawkeye, can we help you? You and I don’t have to do anything until the children’s art judging at the town hall at lunch.”
“Mr. Calvert wanted to kids to meet you,” Riza said dryly, seeming almost embarrassed by that. “It seems they have a new history book that includes some of your exploits.”
Roy’s lips twitched as Aris snorted. “I think I’ll leave you, hero,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “I have a feeling my people’s portrayal in an Amestrian history book will not be how I remember it.”
“Are you Ishbalan?” one of the young boys asked, breaking away from the crowd before David could snare him.
Aris’ face softened and he went over to the child, squatting down to his level. “Yes, I am.”
The boy leaned in, several of his friends crowding around him, studying Aris’ red eyes. “Cool.”
Aris put up with the scrutiny good naturedly for a while then stood up, ruffling the boy’s hair. “But you really wanted to see the Flame Alchemist, right? He’s right there.” He pointed to Roy.
The boy’s nose wrinkled. “No way, that guy’s too small. The Flame Alchemist is big and brave.”
“And handsome,” one of the little girls put in.
Aris and Riza broke out laughing as Roy’s eyes went stormy. It didn’t help that Gracia and Winry joined in the sniggering. Havoc nearly swallowed his lit cigarette. Aris took a few steps away. “I’ll be back later. I have to go…find Uzziel.” The Ishbalan priest said between laughs.
Roy’s nose wrinkled and he hissed to Riza, “Now the Ishbalans will be laughing at me.”
“If that’s all they do, count yourself lucky,” she replied, trying to stifle her laugh.
“I’m sorry,” David said, blushing as he rubbed the back of his head. “You never know what kids will say.”
“Maybe that’s the Flame Alchemist,” one girl offered, pointing to Armstrong as he came through the crowd.
“That’s the Strongarm Alchemist,” Roy said, going over to Winry and Gracia. He glared at the women. “Quit looking so amused.” When his friends didn’t stop laughing, Roy whipped around back to the children. “He was Major Armstrong during the war. I really am the Flame Alchemist,” he said but convinced no one. Sighing, Roy met Armstrong. “Is there a problem?”
The big man nodded, his solitary curl flapping. “There was one older couple being prophets of doom if we befriend the Ishbalans and they were hustled off the town hall steps. However, there have been more reports that someone might try to bomb the proceedings.”
Roy scowled. It wasn’t entirely unexpected but Roy had been hoping it wouldn’t come to pass. “Anything I can help with?”
“It’s being dealt with. These things are the sort of thing Generals and Ambassadors allow subordinates handle,” Armstrong said wryly. “We could use Havoc’s help.”
Roy nodded, waving at his lieutenant. “He’s yours. And if there’s anything I or Hawkeye can do, tell us, Armstrong. I know we have our diplomatic duties but what good are they if we get blown up? Contrary to popular belief, I never did like being stuck behind a desk.”
Armstrong bobbed his head. “I believe General Grumman might be planning a call to you. You’re due back at your office for a while, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I guess I’ll go there but can I borrow you for a moment, Armstrong?” Without waiting for an answer, Roy beckoned the beefy man to follow. “As it turns out, you and I are in a new history book and these kids think you’re the Flame Alchemist.”
Armstrong’s moustache twitched. “We’re what?”
“Heroes,” Roy said ironically and Armstrong’s face went morose. “Children, meet Strongarm. Maybe they wouldn’t mind a small demonstration.”
Armstrong’s blue eyes blinked slowly then he smiled as he pulled out his wrist brace with the alchemic array etched into it. He went over to a nearby stone fence and put his hand on it, shaping the newel post into a small dog to the children’s delight.
“And, for all you doubting children.” Roy plucked his glove out, still guarding his secret about what had happened to his alchemy once he had tangled with the Gate. He snapped and shaped them a little firebird. “See? I am big and brave and handsome enough.”
“And petulant enough. Does it mention the petulance in the history book, David?” Riza asked, ignoring Roy’s hot look as she beamed. Winry and Gracia had hands clamped hard over their mouths.
David grinned. “I don’t think so.”
“They need to put ‘show off’ next to his name in the next edition,” Riza offered, her brown eyes dancing
“Are you through?” Roy asked tartly, seeing just how much she was enjoying this. She always had a way to keep him grounded, a diamond hard way. “If Mr. Calvert doesn’t need your help, General Grumman might need to talk to you as well, Hawkeye.”
“Oh, no, I’ve a lot of things to do with the kids and their parents. I can meet back up with you, Riza, at the art show,” David said, then almost seemed to rethink that for a moment as his eyes cut over to Roy.
She nodded, looking slightly distressed. “All right.”
Roy turned on his heel and stomped off, stopping next to Gracia and Winry who were still giggling out of control. “This is not funny!”
“I just wish Ed were here to hear you’re not handsome enough and short,” Winry gasped, holding her sides.
Roy did the mature thing and stuck out his tongue at her.
“Roy, how does it feel to be old enough to be in a history book,” Gracia asked slyly and his face fell before he left in a huff. Winry couldn’t hold in the giggles.
“That was beautiful, Gracia.” Riza sighed. “Of course, now I have to see him pout all day.”
Gracia patted Riza’s arm. “Sorry, but it was too good to pass up. I know his ego.”
Riza just shook her head. “Almost wish I had a camera to capture what is bound to be some masterful sulking.”
“Show her,” Winry encouraged.
Gracia pulled Maes’ old camera out of her purse. “I just wanted to sneak some of Roy in his Ishbalan garb since he wouldn’t pose. I got several of him pouting for the children. If I got lucky, the firebird came out, too. I need to get Elicia to mob him so I can get some pictures of them together.”
“I want to see them when they’re developed,” Riza demanded, a delighted expression on her face.
Gracia looked over the woman’s shoulder to where David was rounding up the kids and didn’t offer her copies, figuring it wouldn’t be good since Riza was seeing another man.
Riza took her leave and caught up with Roy. He was still pouting as he headed for the base. They walked past Breda and Roy suddenly stopped, eying the man in surprise.
Breda read his mind. “Armstrong and Investigations wanted Fuery since he’s good with surveillance electronics. We traded places for the day.”
Roy nodded. “Hawkeye and I are waiting for Grumman’s call. We’ll be in the office. Just take messages for any other calls and no paperwork. Technically I’m not even supposed to be here.” He held up a hand. “I’m not signing anything.”
“I see nothing’s changed,” Riza said, rolling her eyes.
“Everything’s changed. I’m standing here in a red dress with flowers in my hair and schoolchildren think I’m too little to be whatever heroic figure this text book makes me out to be while my friends laugh their asses off at me,” Roy grouched then whirled on Breda. “You’re not going to laugh, are you?”
“No, sir,” Breda replied, looking like not laughing might be hurting him.
Roy favored him with a glare then went into his office, tossing himself into the chair. He gestured at the door. “Lock it.”
“Don’t worry, Roy. Breda isn’t going to drag in paperwork for you,” Riza said.
“Lock it any how,” he said, getting back up as she did so. Roy went and stared out the window.
“If you want to go back to the festival, Roy, you can. Grumman would probably understand,” Riza said, seeing his wistful gaze.
Roy shrugged. “No, I’m sure it’s probably important.” Roy pulled the curtains the turned on the radio rather loudly. He dropped back into the chair. “I’m content to wait.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I think you have something else in mind.”
Roy beckoned her closer, a wide grin on his face.
“What makes you think I’ll do that here?” she hissed, glaring back at the closed door. “Are you insane?”
He just laughed and pushed his chair back from the desk, urging her forward. “You look beautiful in red.”
“You're in a dress. You just want to reaffirm your masculinity,” she snorted, crossing her arms.
Roy wrinkled his nose at her. “And I’m old enough to be in a text book, so yes the ego has come under fire today but tell me haven’t you always wanted to try this, taking such a naughty risk.” Roy pushed his hair out of his eye. “But, I know you’re still mad at me and the play field isn’t exactly clear so if you don’t feel right about it, I’ll understand.”
Riza smiled softly at that. “I appreciate that, Roy.” She went over to him, running a hand over his scarred cheek as her eyes flicked down toward his lap. “You’d be very disappointed if I said no.”
He chuckled, already half hard. “I’ll live.” Roy pointed downward. “He’s less understanding but then again he has no brains.”
Riza shook her head. “Men. You all seem to think of that thing as its own little man.”
Roy cupped his hand over his crotch. “Shh, don’t tell him he’s not.”
Riza swung her leg over Roy, sitting on his lap as he got his hands free, feeling him rub against her in all the right ways. “Breda’s not an idiot you know.”
“Yeah, but he still thinks you hate me.” Roy nibbled her neck.
“I never hated you, Roy,” Riza whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
“I’m relieved,” he said, kissing her as his hand fumbled with a desk drawer. Breaking the kiss to lean around her, he fished out a condom. Riza just cocked an eyebrow at Roy. “What? They snoop in my drawers and I have a reputation to maintain.”
She just shook her head. “You astound me.” Riza saw the lust clouding his dark eye. “And make me want you even though I know I shouldn’t.” She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back and kissing him roughly. This was wrong, not quite animalistic, not with Breda just outside the door and a radio that could only mask so much but it was close.
As mouths warred for dominance, she managed to get her panties down, dangling off one ankle, like some naughty schoolgirl doing it in a rush lest she get caught. Robes got bunched up at the waist. He knew just how to touch her. Was it instinct? Primal memory? Biting gently into his shoulder to muffle the sounds as they came together, Riza didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to leave the magic of this office and face reality that awaited her beyond the door.
Doing something forbidden like this added spice to the act, leaving them perfumed with new sweat as their bodies shuddered their way towards bliss. Riza leaned against his chest as he tilted the chair back, not letting him slip from inside her. She kissed him gently. There was a strange look in his eye. Did he not think she would actually do this? Well, good thought since it was something she normally wouldn’t have done. She opened her mouth to pant something and the phone rang.
Roy snorted. “Grumman has impeccable timing.” He reached around her and picked up the phone. She envied his ability to sound like everything was normal as he greeted the general. “No sir, not interrupting anything. Just taking a break from the festival. Armstrong said to expect your call….Hawkeye? No, she’s not still at the faire…yes we’re able to work past our differences. It’s been fine. You can say we’ve been joined at the hip on this project.” He smirked at her, flexing his hips against hers.
Grabbing robes and all, Riza twisted both his nipples, watching his teeth grit. She let him go and he grunted something into the phone while she got up and buried the prophylactic in the trash.
“Yes…she’s right here, sir.” Roy handed her the phone and she stared at him incredulously. “Grumman wants to talk to you.”
She snatched the phone away and did her best to not sound like she had just down something very naughty as she answered the general. Roy got up from the chair and stared at the trash before getting his glove. He set the trash on fire. “Excuse me, General. I think I might have to go now. Mustang is setting things on fire…yes, I know that’s what he does best.” Riza hung up the phone, glaring. “You’re awful.”
“And your flowers are askew. Might want to fix them before we head back out there.” Roy smirked.
“So are yours,” she said, as a rap sounded on the door.
“Do I smell smoke?” Breda asked through the door.
Riza pulled it open, hoping she didn’t look too disturbed. At least the room smelt like smoke and not sex. “The general is burning his trash. I think he’s bored.”
“Oh, not bored. Just tidy.” Roy sailed past her. “Breda, you could probably take the rest of the day off or join Armstrong. There’s no need to stay cooped up in here.”
“Thank you, sir.” Breda said, his eyebrows rising.
Riza just wished she knew if she were imagining the knowing look in the stocky man’s eyes or if he really did know what they had done. She sighed and headed back out into the overcast day.
X X X
“Are you enjoying the festival?” Riza asked Winry after the waitress set down their menus.
Winry nodded. “Elicia has been running me all over. It’s tiring. I don’t know how poor Gracia does it.”
Riza laughed, grateful to have an option besides more faire food for lunch. She studied her menu. “I’m sure it’s a challenge.”
“How are you doing? I saw David with you earlier, when the children where crushing Roy’s ego.” Winry seemed darkly amused by that turn of events.
“I knew Roy would be here, involved with the festival. I wanted David to stay back East but he just wouldn’t. He really wanted the children to see this side of the Ishbalans, especially when we’re so close to the border there. What could I say? Don’t come because I really don’t want you meeting Roy Mustang.” Riza said miserably then looked up as the waitress returned. She and Winry gave their orders.
“That might have made him…curious,” Winry said cautiously. Her blue eyes deepened with intensity as she scanned Riza’s face.
“He already is, in more of an academic way. I think David has some definite ideas as to how wrong the war there was but doesn’t really understand what all happened and at the same time finds the alchemists fascinating.” Riza shook her head as if trying to drive the idea out. It hadn’t helped that she had shielded David from her past, not wanting to burden him with the ugliness. She opted for changing the subject. “How about you, Winry? How have you been doing?”
Winry sighed and took a sip of water. “Working. I’ve been spending time in Rush Valley, learning new adaptations for the heat, a lot like I did for cold up in the Brigg’s Mountains. I never know where my patients might end up. Mr. Garfiel is great. I’m less thrilled with the town. I miss green things. It’s so hot there but I don’t have to tell you. You were in the desert.” Winry looked out into the street where fair-goers milled. “I don’t know why Rose would want to go back.” The tone in Winry’s voice said she was glad of it though.
It had come as no surprise to Riza that Winry and Rose wouldn’t get along in the long run. Rose was such a follower and, without someone to follow, she had done poorly until Armstrong offered her a chance to go back to Lior and rebuild. It gave her focus. Before that, however, she had been driving the Rockbells and Alphonse insane constantly bleating on about Ed’s disappearance, making his absence even more painful. In the end, when she left Resembol, it was too everyone’s relief. “I was never very fond of the heat either. Roy always hated it. He never wanted to be in the East. My home, originally, was north. Not quite as far as Briggs but still…it was cool and mountainous and green. I miss that sometimes.” Riza heaved another sigh. “At least Central has seasons.”
Winry nodded. “Roy’s spoken to me about moving my practice here. I tell him I don’t have to, not with him giving my name to every wounded soldier he meets. They find me just fine in Resembol. I tell him he just wants me here so I’m close whenever he breaks his foot again. I swear he’s worse than Ed.” Winry’s face fell, her jaw trembling slightly. She sat up straighter as if trying to find the steel inside herself. “I think I don’t leave Resembol because I know one day Ed and Al will come back and they have to know where to find me.”
Riza reached across the table and put her hand over Winry’s. “That can’t happen now that the Gate is gone,” she said gently.
Winry’s eyes glistened for a moment then she visibly regained control. “I thought that, too, until I caught Roy researching other ways that might be used to break the barrier, the last time he was in for maintenance.”
Riza pulled her hand back, her mouth forming a little O. “I had no idea.”
“I didn’t write you about it because, well, I know how wrong these things can get. Even if Roy is right and it’s possible, the cost might be worse than not having the brothers here. I won’t have Roy maiming himself on my account.” Winry pushed her long hair back. “I’ve learned to live without them. I might not be ready to move on yet but I’ve adjusted to their absence,” she added, sounding much older than she was. “You know how that goes. Roy’s been just as gone even though he’s still in this world. I know it wasn’t easy for you to move on either.”
Riza stared at the tablecloth. “I’m not sure I have. I think David knows it, feels something between us but he doesn’t know what.”
Winry’s blue eyes bore into Riza. “But I thought you were happy with David.”
“I was, or at least trying desperately to be. Then I came here.” Riza ran her hand through her hair, nearly knocking the wreath of flowers off her head.
“Has he been cold? Roy gets like that whenever he’s talking about you.” Winry’s voice picked up an edge as she got protective. “I don’t know if he’s angry with you or if he’s pretending he doesn’t care.”
“Both of those and he’s mostly angry at himself,” Riza said softly.
“Does he expect you to forgive him?”
“I slept with him,” Riza blurted it out. Winry was old enough to talk about this sort of thing and she simply needed to tell someone. Riza couldn’t even help the way the words flew out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it quite like that.
Winry’s eyes widened and her fists balled up the table cloth. “What? When?”
Riza blushed. “Uh...last night a few times and today in his office. I still can’t believe I did that.” She slapped the table. “I never even did that when we were actually a couple. Oh, I thought about it…often but…” She shook her head. “I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this. It’s embarrassing.”
“I thought.” Winry shook her head, confused. “After what he did, why?”
Riza rolled her shoulders. “He looked so pathetic and broken in the cemetery. And he was honest with me about what he did and why. I only meant to take him home but somehow that ended up very naked and it was my idea.” She looked at her lunch partner. “Roy has this look about him, this way that he looks at you and it makes you burn. He’s like touching fire, no pun intended.”
Winry looked up at the lowering clouds. “I’m not sure if I ever saw Edward again that this would happen but he never had burning looks, not like you mean.”
“Edward is a boy, Winry. Roy’s had time to grow into his sensuality and become comfortable with it.” Riza sighed a little, thinking about that hot sensuality.
Winry snared her bottom lip. “I’m guessing David has no idea.”
“None, please, let’s keep it that way. I have to think. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” Riza said hurriedly.
“Is this the kind of thing you think through?” Winry asked, a dubious expression stitching up her face.
“I know what part of me is saying,” Riza confessed, “But we can’t go back to being commanding officer and subordinate. As ambassador, where he needs me most, in Ishbal, is the one place I’m not allowed to be as a military person. I would have to be civilian.”
“Well, wouldn’t that make sense? Resign, be with him then,” Winry suggested, her eyes gleaming. So many months of arbitrating between them might be paying off and it excited her. “You could finally actually be with him openly.”
“He asked me to marry him, the idiot.” Riza pinched the bridge of her nose.
Winry beamed and Riza remembered then all the letters she had traded with the girl. Winry, in spite of her practicality, had a romantic’s heart. She reminded Riza so much of herself it was frightening at times. Winry might be angry at Roy on Riza’s behalf but there was a subtle manipulation in those letters, trying to get Riza at least talking with Roy.
“He has to ask again when he actually means it,” Riza added.
Winry nodded. “I think he did.”
“Oh, I know he did but…well, let’s just say, his timing could have been better,” Riza said as the waitress returned with food. Riza didn’t have to say it would be better next time. She knew it would be.
X X X
Roy was just glad he had found a picnic bench under the shade of a tree. He really had no desire to bake in the sun. He wasn’t sure how the Ishbalans could handle heat like they did. He had no liking for it at all. He wasn’t too sure he liked the cold either but he found it easier to warm up than cool down, especially if he had a particular blond helping to fire him up. Roy scowled slightly at that thought. Riza wasn’t really his any more, the last twenty-four hours aside and it really wasn’t a thought he should be having while sitting across from his current….what should he call Mara? Lover? Girlfriend? Was she even less than either of them? No, he did care about her, after all. She could have been a good friend if she hadn’t tangled him up in her little campaign to hurt her father.
“You look…upset,” Mara said cautiously. “Did something go wrong with the festival?”
“Just me participating at all. I feel…hypocritical and somehow vaguely insulting,” Roy said slowly. It wasn’t what was bothering him at the moment, of course, but he couldn’t tell her about Riza and he wasn’t the best liar.
“You sound like my father.” Mara picked at her fried vegetables. “You know he didn’t want you to participate in this. I think it’s stupid. Nothing is going to change the past but clinging to old hatreds, even ones that might be deserved, isn’t going to help.”
Roy managed a smile. “You mean that and I appreciate it. I’m not blind to there being a whole lot of people who’d like to see me dead.”
Mara took his hand with her greasy fingers. “I don’t want you to die.”
He squeezed her hand. “I guess we’ll see.” Roy let her go. “I appreciate the concern.”
“I think you and I know exactly what we are to one another. It’s not the love story for the ages but I do care about you, Roy,” Mara said frankly and he nodded.
Roy didn’t get a chance to answer as three shadows fell over the table. He looked up to see Uzziel, Aris and….what was the name of the sullen boy with them? Roy had only been introduce to the apprentice priest once and the boy never spoke to him. Roy put him at around Winry’s age and in desperate need of seeing the girl. He had a prosthetic arm with a dual hook for a hand. Roy knew why this boy had that instead of automail, life in tent cities, unwanted and more or less illegal, didn’t allow for the cash required to get automail. He thought maybe the young man’s name was Dev. “Want to have a seat?” he asked, feeling Mara tap his bare toes to register her displeasure with the offer. What exactly did she expect? That he could ignore them?
Aris smiled, though Uzziel and Dev remained sullen. The young man’s red eyes fastened on Mara as if to say, ‘how dare you be with him?’ She ignored the boy. “Thanks. Have you recovered from this morning?”
Roy snorted. “I may never recover.”
“This morning?” Mara cocked her head to the side, her blonde hair swinging. “What happened?”
“A group of school kids thought he wasn’t dashing enough.” Aris grinned.
“I’m curious enough to want to see this history book now,” Roy confessed.
“Want to see how heroic you are?” Dev spat then quelled a bit under a look from Uzziel.
Roy’s lips tugged down. “No, I’ve lived with the title of hero for a long time now. That doesn’t faze me, nor is it something that really fits what happened there.”
“History is written by the winners,” Uzziel offered up, diplomatically but he didn’t seem to believe it.
Roy nodded. “I don’t think you’ll see a classroom book in this country calling us butchers.”
“You were,” Dev said, not looking up from the table.
“Enough, boy,” Uzziel growled.
“Who asked you?” Mara glared at the boy.
“I think that was me, and I’m not arguing the point,” Roy replied blandly.
Uzziel shot him a puzzled look, echoed by Aris. The old priest asked, “You won’t defend yourself?’
Roy rolled his shoulders, nearly losing the sash to his robe. “What is there to defend? What happened there…don’t think all of the alchemists wanted to do that. Some did. Some enjoyed the hell out of their powers, I won’t lie about that to you. I wasn’t one of them, nor was Major Armstrong, the man you met today.”
“Why did you join the military?” Aris asked. “if not to fight?”
“I was an arrogant teenager who thought he was helping his country and so blinded by the power and wealth of a State Alchemist that I didn’t think things through very well.” Roy’s face twisted. “Teenaged boys are good at not thinking things through. My teacher saw the dangers but I didn’t listen to him.”
“And you ended up in a war,” Mara said sympathetically, trying hard to ignore the hateful look Dev spared her.
“Yeah. I won’t offer you bland excuses about following orders, true as it may be.” Sighing, Roy pushed his plate away. “Truth was, I had a choice, do as ordered or be imprisoned as a traitor…if I was lucky. More likely, I would have just been shot out of hand and tossed into a mass grave. I probably wasn’t much older than you are now,” He nodded at Dev. “I had a choice, kill or die myself. I was nineteen and I wasn’t ready to die, simple as that.”
“I remember you from then,” Uzziel said softly. The old man looked at Roy as if having never seen him before. “I had no idea you were a child… too much power for someone so young.”
Roy nodded. “Never did sit well, that title of hero. Didn’t keep much of the State Alchemist money either, well, just put aside a little for later, on the slim chance I’ll ever get old.” He sighed.
“This is turning into a very depressing lunch,” Mara said, reaching out to take Roy’s hand. Her head snapped up and Roy looked over his shoulder to see what she did. Winry and Riza were heading their way and it wasn’t like he could just yank his hand out of Mara’s.
“Captain Hawkeye, Miss Rockbell, are you enjoying yourselves?” Roy asked, faking his casual tone as he eased his hand free.
“More so than you, from the look on your face,” Winry said, her eyes sweeping the table and coming to rest on Dev’s hook.
“Just thinking about stuff that won’t stay buried,” Roy said. “I think you all know Captain Hawkeye. This is Winry Rockbell.” Roy waved a hand at the girl. “This is Mara, Aris, Uzziel and…it’s Dev, isn’t it?” he asked and the boy curled his lip at him.
“Nice to meet you,” Winry said cheerily.
Dev’s hard red eyes met her. “What are you looking at? Never see a hook before?” He brandished the thing at her.
Roy and Winry both made a disparaging sound and the older priests looked embarrassed. “Miss Rockbell is an automail mechanic. If she’s looking at you, she’s thinking about ways she can help. She’s one of the best.”
“Did she make your fancy foot?” Dev snorted at him. “You might want to tell her to move. I think she’s in your man’s line of fire.” He nodded to Havoc who was off in the distance watching the general. “Afraid I’m going to bury this in you?”
“Dev, enough. If you can not be civil, you can return to our rooms,” Uzziel snapped but the boy didn’t quell.
“He’s not particularly worried about anyone at this table,” Roy said. “He knows how fast I am. Not that I’m saying you don’t have good reason to entertain those thoughts.” Roy’s eyes slotted. “I’m neither blind nor dumb, boy. I can see the burn scars above the prosthesis. I know what the chances are that you got that wound at my hands.”
“You could say that,” Dev replied, almost too stunned at the admission to remember just how angry he was at the world.
“Maybe you ought to talk to Winry. She might be able to help you,” Roy said quietly.
“Why would she help me?” He rapped the hook on the table. “I’m Ishbalan.”
“Both my parents were doctors during the war. They helped a lot of Ishbalans along with all the Amestrian soldiers.” Winry said steadily, her eyes on Dev, “They died because of it.”
Before Dev or anyone else could respond, Riza broke in, pointing to the street a few picnic tables beyond them. “Sir, Falman’s heading our way and he doesn’t look happy.”
Roy got up. “Falman?”
Falman didn’t even spare more than a moment’s glance at the Ishbalans. “Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong needs to speak to you and Captain Hawkeye. We’ve found a…” Looking around, he lowered his voice. “Bomb.”
Roy’s jaw clenched. “My apologies everyone. I have to go. Winry, could you please go find Gracia and have her take Elicia home as quickly and quietly as possible.”
Winry nodded. “I’ll do the same for David and the kids as well, Riza.”
Hawkeye nodded as Roy added to the Ishbalans, “Go and do the same for the children you have here. Falman, is it contained?”
“Yes and disarmed but there might be more,” he replied.
“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind, Mustang,” Uzziel said. “Dev can assist Aris, Mara as well. I’m familiar with the weaponry we used to use in the war. If this is a protest by our people and not yours, I might be of help.”
“It’s appreciated. Follow me,” Roy said and he let Falman lead. So much for having a relaxing day at the fair.
X X x
All Roy really wanted was to relax and listen to his music. Violins and cello never failed to let his body and mind both unwind. A knock shattered his calm. He looked from the phonograph to the window. It was dark out so who could it be at his door? Riza? No, she should be with David tonight. One of his men telling him about more bombs? Maybe. His impending death? With his luck, yes. Sighing, Roy got up and padded to the door in his Xing silk slippers. His eye widened seeing Winry standing there. “What are you doing here?”
“I had Havoc drive me. I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” she said, eyeing his unusual clothing; Xing silk lounging clothes in their bright dragon and clouds design.
“I didn’t step on any bombs with the automail,” he replied sardonically.
“This isn’t about automail.” She stared at him, a hint of anger building in her blue eyes. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Roy looked over her shoulder and saw Havoc and his car were gone. He resigned himself to having his peace disturbed and stepped back. “I’m not exactly dressed for guests.”
She eyed his silks again. “What are you dressed for?” Winry held up a hand. “No, I probably don’t want to know.”
Roy shrugged. “My grandfather always used to like to see me in our homeland’s clothing. I can’t wear it in the day so at night…”
“Why not? I think it looks good.” Winry followed him in and he shut the door behind her then crossed his arms waiting expectantly. She ignored him, crossing the large foyer, craning her head like a tourist. Winry followed the music into the living room and went to study the ornate marble fireplace. A beveled fire screen of leaded glass - a dogwood flower as its center - stood guard in front of the opening. “This is huge.”
“Cavernous,” he said, tossing himself petulantly on the midnight-hued couch. “And because these clothes stand out more than I want to, I don’t wear them outside.” He glared at her.
“I know that look, Roy. Better people than you have tried to scare me off with it,” Winry sat down on the wing-backed chair, taking note of the large, sturdy-looking coffee table that had a sensual curving pattern to it. The dogwood motif carried over to is curved legs and the pale salmon colored marble lent an elegance to the room. “That’s the look Ed always used when he didn’t want to talk. I never paid him any mind either.”
“I’m mostly just curious why you’re here in the middle of the night,” Roy said. “People might talk about you.”
Winry snorted. “Anyone who actually knows us won’t.” Her blue eyes sobered. “I was worried about you. Bomb threats, working so closely with people who hate you. I saw that young Ishbalan’s eyes. He would have killed you if he could.”
Roy waved her off. “Whatever happens, happens.”
Concern hung years on Winry’s face. “You know that there are people who care about you, right? How do you think they'd feel...that we'd feel if something stupid happened to you?” Winry’s eyes bore into him. “What would Riza do now that you two are actually…talking again?”
“I’m not going to just let them kill me, Winry, but I’m not going to live in fear either,” Roy replied tiredly. “Riza told you we were on speaking terms again?”
“No, I was just rather hoping that you were since she told me you two were having sex,” Winry replied bluntly and Roy’s eye widened as his color went high. “I was assuming you had stopped being an ass and trying to cut her out of your life, hence the talking. And it would be a damn shame to take a blasé attitude about these threats now. She would never forgive you for dying easy. I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to be the one left behind.”
Roy’s lips thinned. “How is this any of your business, Winry?”
“You’re both my friends. I care about what happens to you,” Winry said.
“I’m not your friend. I’m someone you treat decently even though you shouldn’t.” The words tore out of his mouth too fast to stop them. Roy wanted those words back. He wanted them to just disappear, unuttered.
Winry’s face darkened as she got to her feet. “Is that how you see me? Am I just a mechanic you have to endure from time to time?” Winry’s hand came in fast on his blind side, leaving behind a palm-shaped sting. “Ed was right. You are a stupid bastard.”
Roy rubbed his cheek. “Damn it! Why is everyone hitting me? I don’t deserve this.” He looked into her flame-hot eyes then down at the soft carpet over the dark wood of the floor. “I don’t think of you as just my mechanic, Winry, but I don’t deserve to be your friend.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’ve forgiven you?” The question lashed out, hitting hard.
“Because some things aren’t meant to be forgiven,” he replied, watching her fist shake. “It’s too hard on me. I don’t know how to put aside that guilt.”
“Is that why you took the ambassadorial job?”
“Maybe. I don’t even know. I just…I want to fix things that I can’t fix, Winry.” Roy covered his face with a hand. “That leaves me feeling empty.”
Winry sighed and rested a hand on Roy’s shoulder and he dropped his hand. “You really are so much like Ed.”
Fighting back both a weary smile and tears, Roy looked up into her face. “I’m still trying to get him back for you, Winry.”
“Ed and Al made their choice. I don’t want you making yourself insane over this,” she said, trying to put on a brave front. “You almost threw away your life to bring back my parents. I don’t want you to do that to bring back the brothers.”
“I think it can be done without trading a life, but I’m not sure how, just yet…or how to find them once the rift is made,” Roy confessed.
“Well, Mr. Hughes isn’t here to knock sense into you like the last time so it’s up to me to do it and I will, too, if necessary. I’m a good shot with my wrenches.” Winry smiled widely.
“That might be worse than Riza’s revolver. She doesn’t actually ever hit me.” Roy sighed, rubbing his face. “How are you getting home tonight, Winry?”
“Havoc will be back in an hour.” She shrugged.
“I’m being a bad host.” Roy got up. “Can I get you anything?”
“How about whatever you were drinking?” Winry pointed to the small porcelain cup with dogwood painted on it. She wondered briefly what he liked about dogwoods or did he inherit the whole theme from someone.
Roy cocked an eyebrow. “Rice wine? I’ll go warm up a little more of it, if you’d like. I warn you, it’s a little strong.”
“I used to steal granny’s corn mash. Could it be worse?” Winry laughed.
“We shall see.”
X X X
Riza brushed her damp hair, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed while David read. At least the bombs had been contained and traced back to a disgruntled Bradley sympathizer who didn’t really give a damn about the Ishbalans or the festival. He just figured it was a way to make himself heard. David had gone quiet when she told him that and she had slipped into the shower trying to forget they were truly worlds apart. War was something David read about while she lived it. When they got home, she would find a way to say that gently. “David, are you all right?”
“Yeah.” He put the book down and crawled across the bed to kiss the back of her neck. “Tired out. That many kids, even with their parents here, are tiring.”
“I know what you mean. General Mustang and his men aren’t any less tiring than eight year olds and a little less well behaved,” Riza said, setting her brush down.
David laughed. “Really now? The book makes the Flame Alchemist seem very….flamboyant.”
“That book. Mustang will never get over being old enough to be in a history book.” Riza wished that didn’t make her smile but Roy could be so melodramatic she couldn’t help it.
“Really?” David sat back. “I would have thought he might like it since the book made him seem rather exciting to know. You said you’ve known him forever. Is he really like that?”
Riza couldn’t hold in the laugh. How ludicrous was this? David was a Mustang fan. “More like a slacker.”
David wrinkled his nose. “I don’t believe you.”
“On the surface, he is. It makes for a very good cover. It doesn’t pay to be too smart,” Riza said after a moment’s thought. “But when it comes to paperwork, he really is one. I used to have to threaten him with bullets to make him do it. He’d whine, cry and cajole, anything but do something he thought was boring.”
“And your father taught him. I just had no idea you were that involved in some of the major events in our lifetime, Riza,” David said, slightly in awe.
“I never thought about it that way,” Riza said uncomfortably.
“You know some very important people.” He touched her cheek. “Anything important I ought to know about you and Mustang? Any more surprises?”
Riza stiffened. What prompted that question? Simple curiosity about a historical figure? She knew how much David liked history. Or did he suspect something? “He’s been a friend for a long time though…ever since the Fuhrer died, we’ve grown apart. That’s about all you really need to know. I don’t really want to spend the night talking about him, David.”
“How about not a lot of talking at all?” David kissed her, caressing her back.
Riza had put him off every night since they got to Central. She didn’t think she could do it again. Kissing him back, she wished for them to be back out East so she could end things as painlessly as she could.
onto chapter four
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Eventually Roy/Riza but starts out Roy/OC, Riza/OC
Rating - R (for adult situations)
Time Line - anime based, future fic after that movie, with some manga elements like Xing, where Roy learned his alchemy and Armstrong’s other, older sister
Summary - Roy knows he has made a complete and total mess of his life but is he getting a second chance?
Author’s Note - This was written for the challenge put forth by tiptoeinthesnow and she wanted some speculation on whether or not Roy would end up as Fuhrer and some romance (okay this is far more angst than romance.) Also, the spark of this story came before the challenge after hearing some songs by Hinder and a few others (I could easily suggest a listening soundtrack for this one). Special thanks to Ishte, mulzrulz, and Mjules for helping me with the movie details (since I was unable to actually make it through the movie) and thanks to evil_little_dog and mulzrulz for the beta.
chapter one
chapter two
Chapter Three
Guilt is anger directed at ourselves. - Peter McWilliams
“I think it might actually rain,” Aris said, looking skyward. “Which I suppose is the whole point,” he added with a chuckle.
Roy took a sniff of the air. “It might just cloud up. It doesn’t smell like rain yet.” He yawned, still delightfully worn out from the night before. He didn’t even really mind being in the red robes again with fake flowers on his head.
“Boss.” Havoc surreptitiously pointed with his cigarette. “Looks like the captain has an entourage.”
Roy turned to see Riza heading his way with David and a passel of school children. Elicia bounced along with the crowd and he saw Gracia and Winry bringing up the rear. Elicia seemed thrilled to have all sorts of new friends her age. Roy schooled the look of desire off his face. “Captain Hawkeye, can we help you? You and I don’t have to do anything until the children’s art judging at the town hall at lunch.”
“Mr. Calvert wanted to kids to meet you,” Riza said dryly, seeming almost embarrassed by that. “It seems they have a new history book that includes some of your exploits.”
Roy’s lips twitched as Aris snorted. “I think I’ll leave you, hero,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “I have a feeling my people’s portrayal in an Amestrian history book will not be how I remember it.”
“Are you Ishbalan?” one of the young boys asked, breaking away from the crowd before David could snare him.
Aris’ face softened and he went over to the child, squatting down to his level. “Yes, I am.”
The boy leaned in, several of his friends crowding around him, studying Aris’ red eyes. “Cool.”
Aris put up with the scrutiny good naturedly for a while then stood up, ruffling the boy’s hair. “But you really wanted to see the Flame Alchemist, right? He’s right there.” He pointed to Roy.
The boy’s nose wrinkled. “No way, that guy’s too small. The Flame Alchemist is big and brave.”
“And handsome,” one of the little girls put in.
Aris and Riza broke out laughing as Roy’s eyes went stormy. It didn’t help that Gracia and Winry joined in the sniggering. Havoc nearly swallowed his lit cigarette. Aris took a few steps away. “I’ll be back later. I have to go…find Uzziel.” The Ishbalan priest said between laughs.
Roy’s nose wrinkled and he hissed to Riza, “Now the Ishbalans will be laughing at me.”
“If that’s all they do, count yourself lucky,” she replied, trying to stifle her laugh.
“I’m sorry,” David said, blushing as he rubbed the back of his head. “You never know what kids will say.”
“Maybe that’s the Flame Alchemist,” one girl offered, pointing to Armstrong as he came through the crowd.
“That’s the Strongarm Alchemist,” Roy said, going over to Winry and Gracia. He glared at the women. “Quit looking so amused.” When his friends didn’t stop laughing, Roy whipped around back to the children. “He was Major Armstrong during the war. I really am the Flame Alchemist,” he said but convinced no one. Sighing, Roy met Armstrong. “Is there a problem?”
The big man nodded, his solitary curl flapping. “There was one older couple being prophets of doom if we befriend the Ishbalans and they were hustled off the town hall steps. However, there have been more reports that someone might try to bomb the proceedings.”
Roy scowled. It wasn’t entirely unexpected but Roy had been hoping it wouldn’t come to pass. “Anything I can help with?”
“It’s being dealt with. These things are the sort of thing Generals and Ambassadors allow subordinates handle,” Armstrong said wryly. “We could use Havoc’s help.”
Roy nodded, waving at his lieutenant. “He’s yours. And if there’s anything I or Hawkeye can do, tell us, Armstrong. I know we have our diplomatic duties but what good are they if we get blown up? Contrary to popular belief, I never did like being stuck behind a desk.”
Armstrong bobbed his head. “I believe General Grumman might be planning a call to you. You’re due back at your office for a while, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I guess I’ll go there but can I borrow you for a moment, Armstrong?” Without waiting for an answer, Roy beckoned the beefy man to follow. “As it turns out, you and I are in a new history book and these kids think you’re the Flame Alchemist.”
Armstrong’s moustache twitched. “We’re what?”
“Heroes,” Roy said ironically and Armstrong’s face went morose. “Children, meet Strongarm. Maybe they wouldn’t mind a small demonstration.”
Armstrong’s blue eyes blinked slowly then he smiled as he pulled out his wrist brace with the alchemic array etched into it. He went over to a nearby stone fence and put his hand on it, shaping the newel post into a small dog to the children’s delight.
“And, for all you doubting children.” Roy plucked his glove out, still guarding his secret about what had happened to his alchemy once he had tangled with the Gate. He snapped and shaped them a little firebird. “See? I am big and brave and handsome enough.”
“And petulant enough. Does it mention the petulance in the history book, David?” Riza asked, ignoring Roy’s hot look as she beamed. Winry and Gracia had hands clamped hard over their mouths.
David grinned. “I don’t think so.”
“They need to put ‘show off’ next to his name in the next edition,” Riza offered, her brown eyes dancing
“Are you through?” Roy asked tartly, seeing just how much she was enjoying this. She always had a way to keep him grounded, a diamond hard way. “If Mr. Calvert doesn’t need your help, General Grumman might need to talk to you as well, Hawkeye.”
“Oh, no, I’ve a lot of things to do with the kids and their parents. I can meet back up with you, Riza, at the art show,” David said, then almost seemed to rethink that for a moment as his eyes cut over to Roy.
She nodded, looking slightly distressed. “All right.”
Roy turned on his heel and stomped off, stopping next to Gracia and Winry who were still giggling out of control. “This is not funny!”
“I just wish Ed were here to hear you’re not handsome enough and short,” Winry gasped, holding her sides.
Roy did the mature thing and stuck out his tongue at her.
“Roy, how does it feel to be old enough to be in a history book,” Gracia asked slyly and his face fell before he left in a huff. Winry couldn’t hold in the giggles.
“That was beautiful, Gracia.” Riza sighed. “Of course, now I have to see him pout all day.”
Gracia patted Riza’s arm. “Sorry, but it was too good to pass up. I know his ego.”
Riza just shook her head. “Almost wish I had a camera to capture what is bound to be some masterful sulking.”
“Show her,” Winry encouraged.
Gracia pulled Maes’ old camera out of her purse. “I just wanted to sneak some of Roy in his Ishbalan garb since he wouldn’t pose. I got several of him pouting for the children. If I got lucky, the firebird came out, too. I need to get Elicia to mob him so I can get some pictures of them together.”
“I want to see them when they’re developed,” Riza demanded, a delighted expression on her face.
Gracia looked over the woman’s shoulder to where David was rounding up the kids and didn’t offer her copies, figuring it wouldn’t be good since Riza was seeing another man.
Riza took her leave and caught up with Roy. He was still pouting as he headed for the base. They walked past Breda and Roy suddenly stopped, eying the man in surprise.
Breda read his mind. “Armstrong and Investigations wanted Fuery since he’s good with surveillance electronics. We traded places for the day.”
Roy nodded. “Hawkeye and I are waiting for Grumman’s call. We’ll be in the office. Just take messages for any other calls and no paperwork. Technically I’m not even supposed to be here.” He held up a hand. “I’m not signing anything.”
“I see nothing’s changed,” Riza said, rolling her eyes.
“Everything’s changed. I’m standing here in a red dress with flowers in my hair and schoolchildren think I’m too little to be whatever heroic figure this text book makes me out to be while my friends laugh their asses off at me,” Roy grouched then whirled on Breda. “You’re not going to laugh, are you?”
“No, sir,” Breda replied, looking like not laughing might be hurting him.
Roy favored him with a glare then went into his office, tossing himself into the chair. He gestured at the door. “Lock it.”
“Don’t worry, Roy. Breda isn’t going to drag in paperwork for you,” Riza said.
“Lock it any how,” he said, getting back up as she did so. Roy went and stared out the window.
“If you want to go back to the festival, Roy, you can. Grumman would probably understand,” Riza said, seeing his wistful gaze.
Roy shrugged. “No, I’m sure it’s probably important.” Roy pulled the curtains the turned on the radio rather loudly. He dropped back into the chair. “I’m content to wait.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I think you have something else in mind.”
Roy beckoned her closer, a wide grin on his face.
“What makes you think I’ll do that here?” she hissed, glaring back at the closed door. “Are you insane?”
He just laughed and pushed his chair back from the desk, urging her forward. “You look beautiful in red.”
“You're in a dress. You just want to reaffirm your masculinity,” she snorted, crossing her arms.
Roy wrinkled his nose at her. “And I’m old enough to be in a text book, so yes the ego has come under fire today but tell me haven’t you always wanted to try this, taking such a naughty risk.” Roy pushed his hair out of his eye. “But, I know you’re still mad at me and the play field isn’t exactly clear so if you don’t feel right about it, I’ll understand.”
Riza smiled softly at that. “I appreciate that, Roy.” She went over to him, running a hand over his scarred cheek as her eyes flicked down toward his lap. “You’d be very disappointed if I said no.”
He chuckled, already half hard. “I’ll live.” Roy pointed downward. “He’s less understanding but then again he has no brains.”
Riza shook her head. “Men. You all seem to think of that thing as its own little man.”
Roy cupped his hand over his crotch. “Shh, don’t tell him he’s not.”
Riza swung her leg over Roy, sitting on his lap as he got his hands free, feeling him rub against her in all the right ways. “Breda’s not an idiot you know.”
“Yeah, but he still thinks you hate me.” Roy nibbled her neck.
“I never hated you, Roy,” Riza whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
“I’m relieved,” he said, kissing her as his hand fumbled with a desk drawer. Breaking the kiss to lean around her, he fished out a condom. Riza just cocked an eyebrow at Roy. “What? They snoop in my drawers and I have a reputation to maintain.”
She just shook her head. “You astound me.” Riza saw the lust clouding his dark eye. “And make me want you even though I know I shouldn’t.” She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back and kissing him roughly. This was wrong, not quite animalistic, not with Breda just outside the door and a radio that could only mask so much but it was close.
As mouths warred for dominance, she managed to get her panties down, dangling off one ankle, like some naughty schoolgirl doing it in a rush lest she get caught. Robes got bunched up at the waist. He knew just how to touch her. Was it instinct? Primal memory? Biting gently into his shoulder to muffle the sounds as they came together, Riza didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to leave the magic of this office and face reality that awaited her beyond the door.
Doing something forbidden like this added spice to the act, leaving them perfumed with new sweat as their bodies shuddered their way towards bliss. Riza leaned against his chest as he tilted the chair back, not letting him slip from inside her. She kissed him gently. There was a strange look in his eye. Did he not think she would actually do this? Well, good thought since it was something she normally wouldn’t have done. She opened her mouth to pant something and the phone rang.
Roy snorted. “Grumman has impeccable timing.” He reached around her and picked up the phone. She envied his ability to sound like everything was normal as he greeted the general. “No sir, not interrupting anything. Just taking a break from the festival. Armstrong said to expect your call….Hawkeye? No, she’s not still at the faire…yes we’re able to work past our differences. It’s been fine. You can say we’ve been joined at the hip on this project.” He smirked at her, flexing his hips against hers.
Grabbing robes and all, Riza twisted both his nipples, watching his teeth grit. She let him go and he grunted something into the phone while she got up and buried the prophylactic in the trash.
“Yes…she’s right here, sir.” Roy handed her the phone and she stared at him incredulously. “Grumman wants to talk to you.”
She snatched the phone away and did her best to not sound like she had just down something very naughty as she answered the general. Roy got up from the chair and stared at the trash before getting his glove. He set the trash on fire. “Excuse me, General. I think I might have to go now. Mustang is setting things on fire…yes, I know that’s what he does best.” Riza hung up the phone, glaring. “You’re awful.”
“And your flowers are askew. Might want to fix them before we head back out there.” Roy smirked.
“So are yours,” she said, as a rap sounded on the door.
“Do I smell smoke?” Breda asked through the door.
Riza pulled it open, hoping she didn’t look too disturbed. At least the room smelt like smoke and not sex. “The general is burning his trash. I think he’s bored.”
“Oh, not bored. Just tidy.” Roy sailed past her. “Breda, you could probably take the rest of the day off or join Armstrong. There’s no need to stay cooped up in here.”
“Thank you, sir.” Breda said, his eyebrows rising.
Riza just wished she knew if she were imagining the knowing look in the stocky man’s eyes or if he really did know what they had done. She sighed and headed back out into the overcast day.
X X X
“Are you enjoying the festival?” Riza asked Winry after the waitress set down their menus.
Winry nodded. “Elicia has been running me all over. It’s tiring. I don’t know how poor Gracia does it.”
Riza laughed, grateful to have an option besides more faire food for lunch. She studied her menu. “I’m sure it’s a challenge.”
“How are you doing? I saw David with you earlier, when the children where crushing Roy’s ego.” Winry seemed darkly amused by that turn of events.
“I knew Roy would be here, involved with the festival. I wanted David to stay back East but he just wouldn’t. He really wanted the children to see this side of the Ishbalans, especially when we’re so close to the border there. What could I say? Don’t come because I really don’t want you meeting Roy Mustang.” Riza said miserably then looked up as the waitress returned. She and Winry gave their orders.
“That might have made him…curious,” Winry said cautiously. Her blue eyes deepened with intensity as she scanned Riza’s face.
“He already is, in more of an academic way. I think David has some definite ideas as to how wrong the war there was but doesn’t really understand what all happened and at the same time finds the alchemists fascinating.” Riza shook her head as if trying to drive the idea out. It hadn’t helped that she had shielded David from her past, not wanting to burden him with the ugliness. She opted for changing the subject. “How about you, Winry? How have you been doing?”
Winry sighed and took a sip of water. “Working. I’ve been spending time in Rush Valley, learning new adaptations for the heat, a lot like I did for cold up in the Brigg’s Mountains. I never know where my patients might end up. Mr. Garfiel is great. I’m less thrilled with the town. I miss green things. It’s so hot there but I don’t have to tell you. You were in the desert.” Winry looked out into the street where fair-goers milled. “I don’t know why Rose would want to go back.” The tone in Winry’s voice said she was glad of it though.
It had come as no surprise to Riza that Winry and Rose wouldn’t get along in the long run. Rose was such a follower and, without someone to follow, she had done poorly until Armstrong offered her a chance to go back to Lior and rebuild. It gave her focus. Before that, however, she had been driving the Rockbells and Alphonse insane constantly bleating on about Ed’s disappearance, making his absence even more painful. In the end, when she left Resembol, it was too everyone’s relief. “I was never very fond of the heat either. Roy always hated it. He never wanted to be in the East. My home, originally, was north. Not quite as far as Briggs but still…it was cool and mountainous and green. I miss that sometimes.” Riza heaved another sigh. “At least Central has seasons.”
Winry nodded. “Roy’s spoken to me about moving my practice here. I tell him I don’t have to, not with him giving my name to every wounded soldier he meets. They find me just fine in Resembol. I tell him he just wants me here so I’m close whenever he breaks his foot again. I swear he’s worse than Ed.” Winry’s face fell, her jaw trembling slightly. She sat up straighter as if trying to find the steel inside herself. “I think I don’t leave Resembol because I know one day Ed and Al will come back and they have to know where to find me.”
Riza reached across the table and put her hand over Winry’s. “That can’t happen now that the Gate is gone,” she said gently.
Winry’s eyes glistened for a moment then she visibly regained control. “I thought that, too, until I caught Roy researching other ways that might be used to break the barrier, the last time he was in for maintenance.”
Riza pulled her hand back, her mouth forming a little O. “I had no idea.”
“I didn’t write you about it because, well, I know how wrong these things can get. Even if Roy is right and it’s possible, the cost might be worse than not having the brothers here. I won’t have Roy maiming himself on my account.” Winry pushed her long hair back. “I’ve learned to live without them. I might not be ready to move on yet but I’ve adjusted to their absence,” she added, sounding much older than she was. “You know how that goes. Roy’s been just as gone even though he’s still in this world. I know it wasn’t easy for you to move on either.”
Riza stared at the tablecloth. “I’m not sure I have. I think David knows it, feels something between us but he doesn’t know what.”
Winry’s blue eyes bore into Riza. “But I thought you were happy with David.”
“I was, or at least trying desperately to be. Then I came here.” Riza ran her hand through her hair, nearly knocking the wreath of flowers off her head.
“Has he been cold? Roy gets like that whenever he’s talking about you.” Winry’s voice picked up an edge as she got protective. “I don’t know if he’s angry with you or if he’s pretending he doesn’t care.”
“Both of those and he’s mostly angry at himself,” Riza said softly.
“Does he expect you to forgive him?”
“I slept with him,” Riza blurted it out. Winry was old enough to talk about this sort of thing and she simply needed to tell someone. Riza couldn’t even help the way the words flew out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it quite like that.
Winry’s eyes widened and her fists balled up the table cloth. “What? When?”
Riza blushed. “Uh...last night a few times and today in his office. I still can’t believe I did that.” She slapped the table. “I never even did that when we were actually a couple. Oh, I thought about it…often but…” She shook her head. “I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this. It’s embarrassing.”
“I thought.” Winry shook her head, confused. “After what he did, why?”
Riza rolled her shoulders. “He looked so pathetic and broken in the cemetery. And he was honest with me about what he did and why. I only meant to take him home but somehow that ended up very naked and it was my idea.” She looked at her lunch partner. “Roy has this look about him, this way that he looks at you and it makes you burn. He’s like touching fire, no pun intended.”
Winry looked up at the lowering clouds. “I’m not sure if I ever saw Edward again that this would happen but he never had burning looks, not like you mean.”
“Edward is a boy, Winry. Roy’s had time to grow into his sensuality and become comfortable with it.” Riza sighed a little, thinking about that hot sensuality.
Winry snared her bottom lip. “I’m guessing David has no idea.”
“None, please, let’s keep it that way. I have to think. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” Riza said hurriedly.
“Is this the kind of thing you think through?” Winry asked, a dubious expression stitching up her face.
“I know what part of me is saying,” Riza confessed, “But we can’t go back to being commanding officer and subordinate. As ambassador, where he needs me most, in Ishbal, is the one place I’m not allowed to be as a military person. I would have to be civilian.”
“Well, wouldn’t that make sense? Resign, be with him then,” Winry suggested, her eyes gleaming. So many months of arbitrating between them might be paying off and it excited her. “You could finally actually be with him openly.”
“He asked me to marry him, the idiot.” Riza pinched the bridge of her nose.
Winry beamed and Riza remembered then all the letters she had traded with the girl. Winry, in spite of her practicality, had a romantic’s heart. She reminded Riza so much of herself it was frightening at times. Winry might be angry at Roy on Riza’s behalf but there was a subtle manipulation in those letters, trying to get Riza at least talking with Roy.
“He has to ask again when he actually means it,” Riza added.
Winry nodded. “I think he did.”
“Oh, I know he did but…well, let’s just say, his timing could have been better,” Riza said as the waitress returned with food. Riza didn’t have to say it would be better next time. She knew it would be.
X X X
Roy was just glad he had found a picnic bench under the shade of a tree. He really had no desire to bake in the sun. He wasn’t sure how the Ishbalans could handle heat like they did. He had no liking for it at all. He wasn’t too sure he liked the cold either but he found it easier to warm up than cool down, especially if he had a particular blond helping to fire him up. Roy scowled slightly at that thought. Riza wasn’t really his any more, the last twenty-four hours aside and it really wasn’t a thought he should be having while sitting across from his current….what should he call Mara? Lover? Girlfriend? Was she even less than either of them? No, he did care about her, after all. She could have been a good friend if she hadn’t tangled him up in her little campaign to hurt her father.
“You look…upset,” Mara said cautiously. “Did something go wrong with the festival?”
“Just me participating at all. I feel…hypocritical and somehow vaguely insulting,” Roy said slowly. It wasn’t what was bothering him at the moment, of course, but he couldn’t tell her about Riza and he wasn’t the best liar.
“You sound like my father.” Mara picked at her fried vegetables. “You know he didn’t want you to participate in this. I think it’s stupid. Nothing is going to change the past but clinging to old hatreds, even ones that might be deserved, isn’t going to help.”
Roy managed a smile. “You mean that and I appreciate it. I’m not blind to there being a whole lot of people who’d like to see me dead.”
Mara took his hand with her greasy fingers. “I don’t want you to die.”
He squeezed her hand. “I guess we’ll see.” Roy let her go. “I appreciate the concern.”
“I think you and I know exactly what we are to one another. It’s not the love story for the ages but I do care about you, Roy,” Mara said frankly and he nodded.
Roy didn’t get a chance to answer as three shadows fell over the table. He looked up to see Uzziel, Aris and….what was the name of the sullen boy with them? Roy had only been introduce to the apprentice priest once and the boy never spoke to him. Roy put him at around Winry’s age and in desperate need of seeing the girl. He had a prosthetic arm with a dual hook for a hand. Roy knew why this boy had that instead of automail, life in tent cities, unwanted and more or less illegal, didn’t allow for the cash required to get automail. He thought maybe the young man’s name was Dev. “Want to have a seat?” he asked, feeling Mara tap his bare toes to register her displeasure with the offer. What exactly did she expect? That he could ignore them?
Aris smiled, though Uzziel and Dev remained sullen. The young man’s red eyes fastened on Mara as if to say, ‘how dare you be with him?’ She ignored the boy. “Thanks. Have you recovered from this morning?”
Roy snorted. “I may never recover.”
“This morning?” Mara cocked her head to the side, her blonde hair swinging. “What happened?”
“A group of school kids thought he wasn’t dashing enough.” Aris grinned.
“I’m curious enough to want to see this history book now,” Roy confessed.
“Want to see how heroic you are?” Dev spat then quelled a bit under a look from Uzziel.
Roy’s lips tugged down. “No, I’ve lived with the title of hero for a long time now. That doesn’t faze me, nor is it something that really fits what happened there.”
“History is written by the winners,” Uzziel offered up, diplomatically but he didn’t seem to believe it.
Roy nodded. “I don’t think you’ll see a classroom book in this country calling us butchers.”
“You were,” Dev said, not looking up from the table.
“Enough, boy,” Uzziel growled.
“Who asked you?” Mara glared at the boy.
“I think that was me, and I’m not arguing the point,” Roy replied blandly.
Uzziel shot him a puzzled look, echoed by Aris. The old priest asked, “You won’t defend yourself?’
Roy rolled his shoulders, nearly losing the sash to his robe. “What is there to defend? What happened there…don’t think all of the alchemists wanted to do that. Some did. Some enjoyed the hell out of their powers, I won’t lie about that to you. I wasn’t one of them, nor was Major Armstrong, the man you met today.”
“Why did you join the military?” Aris asked. “if not to fight?”
“I was an arrogant teenager who thought he was helping his country and so blinded by the power and wealth of a State Alchemist that I didn’t think things through very well.” Roy’s face twisted. “Teenaged boys are good at not thinking things through. My teacher saw the dangers but I didn’t listen to him.”
“And you ended up in a war,” Mara said sympathetically, trying hard to ignore the hateful look Dev spared her.
“Yeah. I won’t offer you bland excuses about following orders, true as it may be.” Sighing, Roy pushed his plate away. “Truth was, I had a choice, do as ordered or be imprisoned as a traitor…if I was lucky. More likely, I would have just been shot out of hand and tossed into a mass grave. I probably wasn’t much older than you are now,” He nodded at Dev. “I had a choice, kill or die myself. I was nineteen and I wasn’t ready to die, simple as that.”
“I remember you from then,” Uzziel said softly. The old man looked at Roy as if having never seen him before. “I had no idea you were a child… too much power for someone so young.”
Roy nodded. “Never did sit well, that title of hero. Didn’t keep much of the State Alchemist money either, well, just put aside a little for later, on the slim chance I’ll ever get old.” He sighed.
“This is turning into a very depressing lunch,” Mara said, reaching out to take Roy’s hand. Her head snapped up and Roy looked over his shoulder to see what she did. Winry and Riza were heading their way and it wasn’t like he could just yank his hand out of Mara’s.
“Captain Hawkeye, Miss Rockbell, are you enjoying yourselves?” Roy asked, faking his casual tone as he eased his hand free.
“More so than you, from the look on your face,” Winry said, her eyes sweeping the table and coming to rest on Dev’s hook.
“Just thinking about stuff that won’t stay buried,” Roy said. “I think you all know Captain Hawkeye. This is Winry Rockbell.” Roy waved a hand at the girl. “This is Mara, Aris, Uzziel and…it’s Dev, isn’t it?” he asked and the boy curled his lip at him.
“Nice to meet you,” Winry said cheerily.
Dev’s hard red eyes met her. “What are you looking at? Never see a hook before?” He brandished the thing at her.
Roy and Winry both made a disparaging sound and the older priests looked embarrassed. “Miss Rockbell is an automail mechanic. If she’s looking at you, she’s thinking about ways she can help. She’s one of the best.”
“Did she make your fancy foot?” Dev snorted at him. “You might want to tell her to move. I think she’s in your man’s line of fire.” He nodded to Havoc who was off in the distance watching the general. “Afraid I’m going to bury this in you?”
“Dev, enough. If you can not be civil, you can return to our rooms,” Uzziel snapped but the boy didn’t quell.
“He’s not particularly worried about anyone at this table,” Roy said. “He knows how fast I am. Not that I’m saying you don’t have good reason to entertain those thoughts.” Roy’s eyes slotted. “I’m neither blind nor dumb, boy. I can see the burn scars above the prosthesis. I know what the chances are that you got that wound at my hands.”
“You could say that,” Dev replied, almost too stunned at the admission to remember just how angry he was at the world.
“Maybe you ought to talk to Winry. She might be able to help you,” Roy said quietly.
“Why would she help me?” He rapped the hook on the table. “I’m Ishbalan.”
“Both my parents were doctors during the war. They helped a lot of Ishbalans along with all the Amestrian soldiers.” Winry said steadily, her eyes on Dev, “They died because of it.”
Before Dev or anyone else could respond, Riza broke in, pointing to the street a few picnic tables beyond them. “Sir, Falman’s heading our way and he doesn’t look happy.”
Roy got up. “Falman?”
Falman didn’t even spare more than a moment’s glance at the Ishbalans. “Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong needs to speak to you and Captain Hawkeye. We’ve found a…” Looking around, he lowered his voice. “Bomb.”
Roy’s jaw clenched. “My apologies everyone. I have to go. Winry, could you please go find Gracia and have her take Elicia home as quickly and quietly as possible.”
Winry nodded. “I’ll do the same for David and the kids as well, Riza.”
Hawkeye nodded as Roy added to the Ishbalans, “Go and do the same for the children you have here. Falman, is it contained?”
“Yes and disarmed but there might be more,” he replied.
“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind, Mustang,” Uzziel said. “Dev can assist Aris, Mara as well. I’m familiar with the weaponry we used to use in the war. If this is a protest by our people and not yours, I might be of help.”
“It’s appreciated. Follow me,” Roy said and he let Falman lead. So much for having a relaxing day at the fair.
X X x
All Roy really wanted was to relax and listen to his music. Violins and cello never failed to let his body and mind both unwind. A knock shattered his calm. He looked from the phonograph to the window. It was dark out so who could it be at his door? Riza? No, she should be with David tonight. One of his men telling him about more bombs? Maybe. His impending death? With his luck, yes. Sighing, Roy got up and padded to the door in his Xing silk slippers. His eye widened seeing Winry standing there. “What are you doing here?”
“I had Havoc drive me. I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” she said, eyeing his unusual clothing; Xing silk lounging clothes in their bright dragon and clouds design.
“I didn’t step on any bombs with the automail,” he replied sardonically.
“This isn’t about automail.” She stared at him, a hint of anger building in her blue eyes. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Roy looked over her shoulder and saw Havoc and his car were gone. He resigned himself to having his peace disturbed and stepped back. “I’m not exactly dressed for guests.”
She eyed his silks again. “What are you dressed for?” Winry held up a hand. “No, I probably don’t want to know.”
Roy shrugged. “My grandfather always used to like to see me in our homeland’s clothing. I can’t wear it in the day so at night…”
“Why not? I think it looks good.” Winry followed him in and he shut the door behind her then crossed his arms waiting expectantly. She ignored him, crossing the large foyer, craning her head like a tourist. Winry followed the music into the living room and went to study the ornate marble fireplace. A beveled fire screen of leaded glass - a dogwood flower as its center - stood guard in front of the opening. “This is huge.”
“Cavernous,” he said, tossing himself petulantly on the midnight-hued couch. “And because these clothes stand out more than I want to, I don’t wear them outside.” He glared at her.
“I know that look, Roy. Better people than you have tried to scare me off with it,” Winry sat down on the wing-backed chair, taking note of the large, sturdy-looking coffee table that had a sensual curving pattern to it. The dogwood motif carried over to is curved legs and the pale salmon colored marble lent an elegance to the room. “That’s the look Ed always used when he didn’t want to talk. I never paid him any mind either.”
“I’m mostly just curious why you’re here in the middle of the night,” Roy said. “People might talk about you.”
Winry snorted. “Anyone who actually knows us won’t.” Her blue eyes sobered. “I was worried about you. Bomb threats, working so closely with people who hate you. I saw that young Ishbalan’s eyes. He would have killed you if he could.”
Roy waved her off. “Whatever happens, happens.”
Concern hung years on Winry’s face. “You know that there are people who care about you, right? How do you think they'd feel...that we'd feel if something stupid happened to you?” Winry’s eyes bore into him. “What would Riza do now that you two are actually…talking again?”
“I’m not going to just let them kill me, Winry, but I’m not going to live in fear either,” Roy replied tiredly. “Riza told you we were on speaking terms again?”
“No, I was just rather hoping that you were since she told me you two were having sex,” Winry replied bluntly and Roy’s eye widened as his color went high. “I was assuming you had stopped being an ass and trying to cut her out of your life, hence the talking. And it would be a damn shame to take a blasé attitude about these threats now. She would never forgive you for dying easy. I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to be the one left behind.”
Roy’s lips thinned. “How is this any of your business, Winry?”
“You’re both my friends. I care about what happens to you,” Winry said.
“I’m not your friend. I’m someone you treat decently even though you shouldn’t.” The words tore out of his mouth too fast to stop them. Roy wanted those words back. He wanted them to just disappear, unuttered.
Winry’s face darkened as she got to her feet. “Is that how you see me? Am I just a mechanic you have to endure from time to time?” Winry’s hand came in fast on his blind side, leaving behind a palm-shaped sting. “Ed was right. You are a stupid bastard.”
Roy rubbed his cheek. “Damn it! Why is everyone hitting me? I don’t deserve this.” He looked into her flame-hot eyes then down at the soft carpet over the dark wood of the floor. “I don’t think of you as just my mechanic, Winry, but I don’t deserve to be your friend.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’ve forgiven you?” The question lashed out, hitting hard.
“Because some things aren’t meant to be forgiven,” he replied, watching her fist shake. “It’s too hard on me. I don’t know how to put aside that guilt.”
“Is that why you took the ambassadorial job?”
“Maybe. I don’t even know. I just…I want to fix things that I can’t fix, Winry.” Roy covered his face with a hand. “That leaves me feeling empty.”
Winry sighed and rested a hand on Roy’s shoulder and he dropped his hand. “You really are so much like Ed.”
Fighting back both a weary smile and tears, Roy looked up into her face. “I’m still trying to get him back for you, Winry.”
“Ed and Al made their choice. I don’t want you making yourself insane over this,” she said, trying to put on a brave front. “You almost threw away your life to bring back my parents. I don’t want you to do that to bring back the brothers.”
“I think it can be done without trading a life, but I’m not sure how, just yet…or how to find them once the rift is made,” Roy confessed.
“Well, Mr. Hughes isn’t here to knock sense into you like the last time so it’s up to me to do it and I will, too, if necessary. I’m a good shot with my wrenches.” Winry smiled widely.
“That might be worse than Riza’s revolver. She doesn’t actually ever hit me.” Roy sighed, rubbing his face. “How are you getting home tonight, Winry?”
“Havoc will be back in an hour.” She shrugged.
“I’m being a bad host.” Roy got up. “Can I get you anything?”
“How about whatever you were drinking?” Winry pointed to the small porcelain cup with dogwood painted on it. She wondered briefly what he liked about dogwoods or did he inherit the whole theme from someone.
Roy cocked an eyebrow. “Rice wine? I’ll go warm up a little more of it, if you’d like. I warn you, it’s a little strong.”
“I used to steal granny’s corn mash. Could it be worse?” Winry laughed.
“We shall see.”
X X X
Riza brushed her damp hair, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed while David read. At least the bombs had been contained and traced back to a disgruntled Bradley sympathizer who didn’t really give a damn about the Ishbalans or the festival. He just figured it was a way to make himself heard. David had gone quiet when she told him that and she had slipped into the shower trying to forget they were truly worlds apart. War was something David read about while she lived it. When they got home, she would find a way to say that gently. “David, are you all right?”
“Yeah.” He put the book down and crawled across the bed to kiss the back of her neck. “Tired out. That many kids, even with their parents here, are tiring.”
“I know what you mean. General Mustang and his men aren’t any less tiring than eight year olds and a little less well behaved,” Riza said, setting her brush down.
David laughed. “Really now? The book makes the Flame Alchemist seem very….flamboyant.”
“That book. Mustang will never get over being old enough to be in a history book.” Riza wished that didn’t make her smile but Roy could be so melodramatic she couldn’t help it.
“Really?” David sat back. “I would have thought he might like it since the book made him seem rather exciting to know. You said you’ve known him forever. Is he really like that?”
Riza couldn’t hold in the laugh. How ludicrous was this? David was a Mustang fan. “More like a slacker.”
David wrinkled his nose. “I don’t believe you.”
“On the surface, he is. It makes for a very good cover. It doesn’t pay to be too smart,” Riza said after a moment’s thought. “But when it comes to paperwork, he really is one. I used to have to threaten him with bullets to make him do it. He’d whine, cry and cajole, anything but do something he thought was boring.”
“And your father taught him. I just had no idea you were that involved in some of the major events in our lifetime, Riza,” David said, slightly in awe.
“I never thought about it that way,” Riza said uncomfortably.
“You know some very important people.” He touched her cheek. “Anything important I ought to know about you and Mustang? Any more surprises?”
Riza stiffened. What prompted that question? Simple curiosity about a historical figure? She knew how much David liked history. Or did he suspect something? “He’s been a friend for a long time though…ever since the Fuhrer died, we’ve grown apart. That’s about all you really need to know. I don’t really want to spend the night talking about him, David.”
“How about not a lot of talking at all?” David kissed her, caressing her back.
Riza had put him off every night since they got to Central. She didn’t think she could do it again. Kissing him back, she wished for them to be back out East so she could end things as painlessly as she could.
onto chapter four