The Alchemist's Daughter

A/N: It's been a while since I last wrote fanfiction, so I apologize if this sucks. I felt like writing a Riza-centric story. There are probably other stories of a similar vein, but the plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this story. The first two chapters aren't Royai, but there is Royai later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 1: 5

The Hawkeye family was sitting in the study of their house.

"Time for bed," said Evelyn to her daughter. Riza looked up at her from the puzzle she was trying to assemble. The end result would be a picture of a kitten sitting in a basket.

"But I'm not tired," replied Riza, before she let out a yawn. She moved over to her father who was sitting in an old, worn chair in the corner of his study.

"Do I have to go to bed? You're not going to bed yet," reasoned Riza as she rested her chin on the armrest.

"Right you are," he smiled as he ran a hand through her hair, "but I'm not the one who starts school tomorrow."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"But why can't I just stay here? Why can't you and mommy teach me?"

Evelyn laughed, "Because you'd only learn alchemy. And nothing else."

Riza pouted as Evelyn scooped Riza up in her arms and proceeded to carry her upstairs to her room.

"Good night, Riza," said Berthold.

"Good night," she replied yawning again.

"Will I ever learn alchemy, mommy?" she asked as Evelyn tucked her into her bed.

"Maybe."

Evelyn was not sure if her daughter would be capable of alchemy. It wasn't that Riza wasn't smart—she was already reading at an advanced level. The doubt stemmed from that she herself was not an alchemist. She knew that Berthold had hoped that their young daughter would be able to carry on with his legacy, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to burden her daughter with that expectation just yet.

A few days later, as Riza was finishing up the kitten puzzle, Berthold called her into the kitchen. There was a rock and a stick on the table. Next to the stick there was a crude mallet and a small stick of chalk. Berthold lifted his daughter up onto a chair next to the mallet.

"Now," he said picking up the chalk, "we're going to try some alchemy."

Riza's face lit up, "Really?!"

"Yes," he replied smiling, "the first thing you should know is there is something known as 'equivalent exchange'."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Meaning that in order for something to happen, something of equivalent value must be exchanged. It's kind of like money. You can't just take a piece of candy from the store, can you?" She shook her head.

"You have to pay for it," she said.

"Right. So just like that you have to pay a price when you perform alchemy. Which brings me to this rock and stick," he said.

"Are we making that?" Riza asked as she pointed at the mallet.

"Indeed. It's a simple transmutation."

"Transmutation?"

"Watch," said Berthold as he drew a simple transmutation circle on the wooden dining table. He put the rock and stick in the center and placed his hands on the table. A glow emanated from the circle as the rock and stick eventually merged into a mallet.

Riza's eyes widened at what just occurred. "Can I try?"

Berthold nodded and removed the finished mallet. He took out a second rock from his pocket and a second stick from near the kitchen door. He placed them in the center of the previously drawn circle.

"Now, relax and put your hands on the table next to the circle."

She nodded and did as she was told.

"Now, imagine in your mind the finished product."

"The mallet?" She asked fully focused on the circle.

"Yes."

"Okay."

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on creating the mallet out of the raw ingredients in front of her. She felt something warm under her hands and when she opened her eyes she saw a small glow emanating from the circle. She closed her eyes and scrunched her brow even harder. She opened her right eye and saw that the glow had not gotten more intense.

"Relax, Riza," said her father gently. Riza let out a deep breath and there was a loud boom. Riza yelped as she fell off her chair. Berthold ran over and helped her up. The transmutation circle had been completely burned off and there seemed to be scorch marks on the ceiling. But in the center of what used to be a circle was a mallet. The handle was scorched, but it was a mallet nonetheless.

"Are you okay, Riza?" Berthold asked his daughter. But his daughter was focused on the product of her first attempt at alchemy.

"Riza?" he asked. When she didn't respond automatically he began to worry that the boom might have knocked out her hearing.

"Riza? Can you hear me?" he asked shaking her shoulder. She looked at him with her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry I messed up the table," she said quietly.

"It's okay, I've been meaning to get a new table," her mother cheekily said from the entrance of the kitchen. Neither father nor daughter knew how long she had been watching them.

"Can you hear me?" her father asked again. Even if she did hear him the previous times, he wanted to be sure.

"Yes," she replied. "I messed up the handle, didn't I?"

Her father picked up the mallet and examined it. The handle was scorched quite a bit, but what had been a rock and stick were fused together well enough. Reconstruction had happened.

"Yes, but for a first try it's not the worst thing that could happen," he said soothingly, relieved that his daughter's hearing was not damaged.

"Riza, why don't you go upstairs and change your clothes for dinner?" her mother asked from the doorway. Riza looked down at her dress and saw that it was covered in soot.

"Okay," she said as she left the room.

Once Riza was out of earshot, Berthold turned to his wife, "There's potential. But then again everyone has potential."

"She's only five years old," Evelyn reasoned.

"Yes, and I'm not saying I'm going to start formal training. She's still too young to be taught the formal theory behind any of this. It's easy when the circle is drawn and the preparations done for her. She may start learning the theory, but get frustrated and give up entirely."

"What are you saying, then?"

"Let her do alchemy at her own pace. That is, if this is what she is meant to do. There's no need to rush," he looked at the table and smiled at his wife, "so what's this I hear about a new table?"

Evelyn grinned, "Well it's either buy it or you make me a new one."

"Can I help?" chirped Riza from behind her mother. Evelyn spun around and looked at her in surprise.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Is Daddy going to make you a new table?" Riza asked avoiding her mother's question.

"Maybe," said Berthold, "but only if you help me."

Riza beamed.

"Just don't blow up my house," Evelyn added.

Over the next few days, as Riza and her father picked out wood for the table, Berthold would randomly ramble on about what would be good for a table and why. Riza did not fully comprehend what he was saying but understood enough that she was able to explain to her mother, to the best of a 5-year old's ability, why they couldn't use the wood that was usually just used to burn in the fireplace.

At the end of the week, Riza watched as her father carefully drew a large transmutation circle on the floor of the kitchen. She helped by moving what logs of wood she could into the circle.

When everything was set up, Berthold told Riza to stand far away from the circle. Riza watched as her father placed his hands on the circle. The room lit up and then slowly dimmed as what now stood in the center of the room was a brand new dining table. Evelyn appeared as the dust settled.

"Isn't it pretty, mommy?" asked an exhuberant Riza as she started to run her hands over the new table.

"Yes, yes, it is."

A/N: I apologize if it's kind of an abrupt ending, but I think that's what I was going for. At least currently. I may revise it. Thanks for reading!