Author's Note: 12/10/2018 Just a quick supporting-character reminder since it's been a bit since we've seen them. Gloria Fischer is Cal and Alyse's daughter (Alphonse's granddaughter), and Alexei is her long-time half-Drachman boyfriend who is a professional writer for a culture magazine of the National Geographic or Smithsonian sort.

December 12th, 1989

If there was a woman in the world who looked more like a princess out of a Drachman fairy tale, Alexei Deviatovski had never seen her. He would quite willingly admit his bias on the matter, but watching Gloria marveling at the beauty of Drachma in winter, he doubted many men would argue.

Her form enveloped in a long dusty-blue coat of suede leather, lined in fleece and edged in white fur, her expressive face with its deep green eyes was a brilliant blossom set against a stark backdrop. Despite the frigid temperatures and near-constant snowfall since leaving Amestris, she never complained. Instead, she eagerly devoured every sight, and sound, and smell that Alexei wanted to share with her from this; his father's homeland. As much as Alexei was Amestrian, he was still proud of his father, and his heritage on both sides.

It was important to him that he had this chance to share what he loved of Drachma with his girlfriend. In the past two weeks they had traveled from the border all the way up to Petrayevka, stopping twice along the way to visit his family; first, his father's younger sister and her husband, their children and extended family, who lived in one of the small cities the train stopped in on the way north, and secondly, his grandparents, who lived in a small down just a few hours south of the capitol. Gloria and his family had gotten along famously. Then they had come into the city, and she had loved everything they had done together: touring the museums and palaces of the capitol, dining at his favorite restaurants, seeing the unique animals at the Drachman zoo, and attending the famous Drachman Ballet. The last he had known she would love, dancer that she was. He had never seen her perform, but they had danced together socially, and her grace and balance spoke volumes.

They had gone shopping too, because it would not do to be walking all over the city without appropriate winter garments: and nothing designed outside of Drachma would do for a Drachman winter. It was not just a point of pride, but a matter of common sense.

Gloria made even bulky fur-lined winter wear look glamorous. Along with the coat, with its fur-lined hood, she had bought white deer-skin leather gloves, also lined, and proper winter boots, and several sweaters and knit-wool sets of slacks. All fashionable, all reasonable, though Alexei suspected she might need another suitcase to take everything home again.

Tonight, all of that warm clothing was being put to good use, as they walked towards the skating ice marked out on the pond in the park in the center of the city. Another idea that Gloria had loved when Alexei had suggested it; Skating wasn't so different from dancing after all, and she had always wanted to see him skate. He knew that she knew now, but it was one thing that they had only gotten to do a handful of times, in the small rink in North City. To him, that was hardly an adequate space, and it was too crowded with other people to really get moving. So tonight, they would dance on the ice underneath the stars.

Surrounded in the cloud-hemmed glow of city lights and falling snow, they might have been alone, a thousand miles from anyone, instead of right in the middle of the largest city in Drachma. The world was softened by a sea of muffling white, one he surreptitiously captured with his camera, grateful that Gloria was not at all conscious about his tendency to take photographs of everything worth remembering. It was a hazard of the job. Still he was grateful, because she had quickly become one of his favorite subjects.

Everything about this was important to him, because he hoped she would be more than his girlfriend.

"It's huge!" Gloria gasped as they came out of the tree-lined path that led to the lake and gazed upon the wide expanse of solid ice, which was already doted by dozens of skaters, though it was not at all crowded this evening.

Alexei fingered the ring box in his pocket even as he moved up beside her, slipping one arm easily around her shoulders. "You see what I meant?"

She nodded. "I'm impressed. I can see why it would be a lot easier to practice ice sports up here! Are there a lot of lakes this big in Drachma?"

"Hundreds. Some are much bigger than this one," he added as they walked down the hill towards the little stand that rented skates. "This one is kept particularly smooth and cared for, since it is in a major tourist area. That makes it easier to skate on, but also perfect for dancing, and competitive skating demonstrations." He nodded out towards the middle of the ice, where more experienced skaters were skating backwards, practicing jumps, racing each other, or practicing ice dancing maneuvers. "While there are many professionals, almost every Drachman child learns to skate, and most of us are pretty good."

"So you've been telling me." Her smile turned competitive. "Now you're going to have to really prove it."

Since his skates were at home in North City, Alexei paid for them both to rent pairs, and in short order they were out on the ice. He took hold of Gloria's hand and led her out away from the edge, where the families and novice skaters were moving in careful circles, towards the middle, where the locals and those who actually practiced were hard at work and play. Not that they were all seasoned adults. Many of them were children who took regular lessons, those who were competitive and hoped to be professionals.

Gloria had no problem keeping up with him, but he had known she was competent, and they had danced often enough, he had no worries about her balance or ability to follow his lead.

They found an unclaimed patch of ice almost out in the clear center of the lake. Above them clouds were a mountain of soft gray-white, reflecting the rosy glow of city lights, and falling fat white flakes. Alexei turned Gloria to face him, and then held out his arms. "Will you waltz with me?"

Coy green eyes glinted in the light as she took his arms and stepped into position. "Just a waltz?"

"Oh, it will be much more than that," he promised her as he pushed off backwards, bringing her with him in a slow, wide arch, spinning her once around him in the middle.

She let out a small laugh of delight. Then they were off. Alexei kept himself going backwards through several turns, allowing her the time to get used to the feel of dancing on the ice, and keeping her feet down to glide aside from the occasional necessary steps to follow or turn. He held her firmly when he spun her, so there was no fear of being dropped before her feet were once more solidly where he placed her.

It turned out Gloria was an even faster learner than he had anticipated.

Together they flew across the ice, and he turned them around, so Gloria was going backwards, then they flipped again, and they twisted, and turned; small lifts placed her from right to left, or full circle and back in front. The chill wind stole their breath away, and exhilaration moved the night.

He did not have to ask if Gloria was feeling daring. She was laughing and bright-faced, and her eyes locked on his seemed to read his intention. Her expression said whatever it is, I'm game.

Alexei gathered himself, and their energy, and lifted her up, up, and over his head, and his beautiful ballerina knew exactly what to do, suspended in the air, arms and legs outstretched and strong; a swan in flight.

As he brought her back down to the ice, he became vaguely aware of the sound of scattered applause over his deep breaths and pounding blood. Beyond the beauty in front of him, the local skaters seemed to have been interested in their unfamiliar compatriots.

As they slid to a stop, Gloria kissed him with a fierce passion he could not deny. Wrapping his arms around her, he returned the affectionate gesture.

This, right here, this moment… it was perfect.

As their lips parted, while his eyes remained locked on her joyous face, his fingers slid once more into his pocket. He took a deep breath to get his words back. "Gloria…"

"Yes?"

"You're amazing."

She blushed even redder under her flushed face. "You were pretty amazing yourself."

"I mean everything about you… is amazing. Every word. Every moment we spend together. Having you in arms reach each day has been even better than my dreams… and they were pretty good dreams."

Gloria chuckled. "I feel the same way."

"Good." Very good.

CRACK!

A short, sudden report echoed across the ice. Alexei spun, his eyes looking for the source of the sound, as he became aware that everyone else on the ice had stopped too. There did not appear to be any cracks in the ice, and it had not been that kind of reverberating boom. All eyes were staring up the hill from the park, towards the government complex.

The next report was a sound Alexei wished he had not recognized, as a barrage of gunfire rang out through the night air. Within seconds, he could see flashes of light, and hear the indeterminate rumbling of angry voices.

Panic broke out on the ice, as people shouted to their friends and families, and darted for the shore. Many took off for the opposite side of the lake, away from the direction of the gunfire.

Gloria didn't ask what was happening, she merely gripped his sleeve. "Alexei. Let's go!"

He took her hand and followed. Together they raced across the ice, as the sounds grew louder and louder behind them. They hit the shore, and stumbled up through the banks of snow into a copse of leafless birch trees. Other skaters, there ahead of them, were already out of site. Some had left hastily ripped off skates lying in the snow.
Panting hard, Alexei pulled Gloria down behind a bush long enough to yank their skates off, grateful he had rented tie-ons that had gone over their regular footwear.

"What's going on?" she asked, glancing back through the bushes.

"Nothing good," he commented, knowing it was painfully obvious, but having no more specific answer. He looked as well. The sounds were louder now, and clearer. There was definitely shooting, screaming, and shouting. Movements blurred by distance shows people still running. "It looks like a riot, and it's coming from the direction of the government district." Given Drachma's history, that did not bode well. The fact that it had been several minutes and it was not over, implied this was a well planned and executed riot. He silently cursed at the fact they were nowhere they could easily get a news report, and he didn't dare get closer.

From where they were, the riot only seemed to be growing louder, and larger.

"We've got to get back to the Embassy," Gloria said firmly. "Now."

"Agreed." He was grateful that the Amestrian Embassy House –where Gloria had been able to get them rooms for free thanks to her family—was in a residential area, south from here, and not back north-west towards the government buildings. Alexei was fairly certain they could outrun the mob, but not the guns. He blocked out the screams that carried across the ice as he and Gloria ducked down, slid down the hill, and ran to the edge of the park.

It was a long, dark, terrifying scramble through the city streets. Alexei had never considered himself to be a coward. He was not a trained soldier, and there was little he could do in a riot situation to help the police. The best thing he and Gloria could do was get out of the way, and get to safety. If anything happened to her….

Yet she didn't seem particularly terrified as they hurried through the streets, which were quickly emptying of the usual evening crowds as the news spread. Gloria stuck close to him, but she wasn't being led. She moved with purpose, alert and focused.

Partway there they paused outside a television shop long enough to catch a few moments of live footage and a reporter babbling frantically in rapid Drachman that even Alexei was a little hard-pressed to follow, but what he heard froze his blood.

"What's wrong?" Gloria was looking up at him.

Alexei realized his hand had tightened on hers. "It's not just a riot," he said softly. "They're reporting shootings in the government assembly hall." No names yet, or a confirmed number of fatalities, but if they had been holding a late session, it could be any number of representatives.

Gloria's face went ashen. "It's a coup?"

"Possibly." Alexei started moving again. They had to get to safety. Behind the iron gates of the Embassy was the closest place. Diplomatic Immunity might be the only thing protecting it…if anything.

His mind was racing. Drachma had a history of violent and unstable government overthrows, but things had been stable for years now, at least compared to the past. Things had been moving towards an internal peace that his father had hoped for.

But this—this could be the start of something much, much worse. There were too many people involved; it was too well organized. He didn't tell Gloria how far it had already spread. It would only scare her.

It took them over half-an-hour to make it to the Embassy on foot. Alexei had never been so happy to see anyplace as they ran up to the gates. Gloria hit the button on the electric announcement system. "It's Gloria Fischer! We're outside. Please let us in!"

Seconds later two armed guards appeared at the gates, recognized them, and let them slip inside, locking it again immediately. One remained at the gate while the other escorted them through the gardens, up the front walk, and into the large house.

"Thank goodness you're all right!" Andrew Tillers, the current Ambassador, gasped as he hurried into the room. A tall, thin man in his mid-forties, Tillers certainly looked the part of a diplomat. He clasped Gloria's hand tightly, and Alexei had a feeling at least a part of that had to do with the fact that the General would have killed him if anything happened to his daughter.

"How far has it spread?" Alexei blurted out, heading into the living room, where he could hear the news broadcast coming from the television set.

Tillers' expressed turned dour. "They've taken over the entire government district."

"What are the police and the military doing?" Alexei could hardly believe it had happened so quickly. The images on the screen were surreal, and at a distance, as even the news crew did not dare to get too close. There was shouting, fighting…

"They're fighting each other, and themselves."

"What?" Alexei stared at the smaller man.

"It is a coup," Gloria breathed. "It has to be, if they've got the police force and the military split. They must have gotten factions from within both forces on their side from the beginning." She turned to Tillers. "Have you called Headquarters?"

"Don't you think I've tried that?" Tillers did not sound amused at being questioned by a civilian. "They've thought this through. The phone lines out of the city must have been cut, because we can't connect a call to anywhere beyond the city limits. I got through to the office in the government district only long enough to be told people are panicked and evacuating."

"Evacuating where?"

"They did not give me that information."

"What are we doing then?" Gloria asked, her tone tight and more demanding than usual. "Are we going to hope they don't come this far? If it's a government overthrow, diplomatic immunity may or may not mean anything."

"We are working on arrangements to leave the city as soon as it is possible to do so," Tillers informed her. "Where we are going has not yet been determined. If you'll excuse me, I have work to get back to. You should pack your things. If we do move, it may be quickly." Then, abruptly, he left them standing there.

His assistant, Lita Chalmers, looked apologetic. Alexei hadn't even seen her standing in the doorway. "He's been trying to get more information and vehicles. We only have the two Embassy cars, and they won't move everyone that's here. We also don't know where would be safe to go, or how much of the government is still intact, if it is, or who's in charge. You must understand that it's too dangerous to flee without a plan."

"Of course," Gloria nodded.

Alexei balled his fists in frustration, but he understood. This was not his specialty. What was his specialty was finding out information, and reporting it. At the moment, all he could do was pay attention to everything, write it down, and hope that it might be useful.

"Let's get packed," Gloria suggested, tugging on his arm. "Come on."

He realized she was trying to soothe him. Alexei willed himself to relax. "Yes. We need to be ready for anything."

"I'll admit, I wasn't ready for this when you wanted to show me the real Drachma."

It took him a few seconds to realize she was making a joke. Alexei pulled her close in a tight hug. "How are you so calm about this?"

Gloria wrapped her arms around his chest as far as they would reach. "My family history is full of crazy," she reminded him. "When I was in high school, alchemist hating terrorists kidnapped my little brother. Dad's been shot or blown up I've lost count how many times, in at least four countries. Don't get me started on Grandpa and his brother. Military and alchemists and stupid crazy stuff all just seem to go together, and it never leaves the rest of us out of it. After Charlie got kidnapped, Dad taught us a few things."

Alexei hadn't thought of that. He had heard about the kidnapping, but it had been years ago, and not something of which he had considered the long-lasting effects. Gloria had told him years ago that he had taught her some self-defense. With a dancer's strength, Alexei was sure any kick or punch Gloria landed would be solid. He had also taught her some basic alchemy, which Alexei had never asked her to demonstrate, and Gloria had only used it once in his presence, to repair his favorite coffee mug when it had slipped off the desk and cracked once. "Well I'm borrowing some of your courage," he said as he squeezed a little tighter. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

Gloria had never packed so quickly in her life. Despite Alexei's teasing her about the shopping they had done, everything she had, plus what she had bought, fit snugly into the one suitcase she had packed for the trip, so she didn't have to make any difficult choices about leaving anything behind. Not that she cared enough for any object to worry about it, but it was somehow a little reassuring to know that she had one bag, and that would be enough.

The waiting was as bad as waiting to hear about Charlie and her father during the kidnapping, and the agonizing hour when she had panicked because her brother had been taken and there was nothing she could do. Gloria hated feeling helpless, and she had set out to make sure she never did it again.

She could not control what was happening, though part of her itched to be out there with her pen and camera; she was a reporter, that was what she did — except here. So Gloria would control what she could. Quick packing, which included a change of clothes into denim, double-layered sweaters, and then getting back into the practical boots she had already been wearing, and laying out the winter wear for a quick exit. Any extra space in her bag had been stuffed with first aid supplies and snacks from the kitchen that wouldn't go immediately bad- several apples, granola bars she suspected belonged to Tillers, and two bags of Drachman elk jerky.

When she returned downstairs, Alexei was already back in the living room, staring intently at the television along with most of the remaining embassy staff. Mostly they were staring at the screen, listening with rapt attention, and occasionally murmuring between themselves.

It was as she approached that everyone went suddenly silent. Looks of horror and shock dawned across nearly a dozen faces.

Gloria felt ice form in the pit of her stomach. "What's wrong?"

"Gurina's dead."

The voice did not come from anyone around the television. As one, they all turned to look at Tillers, who had returned. Someone cursed.

"We're leaving," Tillers continued. "The Chairman, and over fifty representatives, have been murdered. Fifteen more were wounded, and who knows how many fled, or who sided with this insanity." He gestured at the screen. "Mihalov is sending us another car, and any other vehicles he can find. He's put out a call for anyone siding against this coup in the government to evacuate north-east. His family's traditional holdings are there, in an old, walled city. We're going now, before the current dissidents figure out where the rest of the government is fleeing."

Mihalov; wasn't that Chairman Gurina's nephew? Gloria was sure she had heard the name, but she wasn't positive. "Who are the dissidents?" she asked, tired of being talked around, and frustrated that she only understood about a quarter of what was being rattled off on the screen. Her Drachman was not terrible, but it was far from fluent.

"The Zinovek Party appears to be behind this," Tillers continued with clear distaste. Gloria did not know the name, but the immediate reactions from the rest of the embassy staff confirmed—as much as the news—that this disaster was not going to end favorably for anyone. The wanton murder in the streets had told her that much.
"I want everyone in the garage in fifteen minutes. Expect Mihalov's men at the gates in ten. Only let them in if they know the code word Aerugean Tacos. We've drilled for this, and I'm sorry that things have turned out this way. Stay safe. There are three routes to where we are going. The vehicles will be given different sets of directions to make it less obvious where we are going, and avoid making everyone targets at once. Once a provisional government position is set up, hopefully we will be able to get word back to Amestris."

"Then they can send in the cavalry," one of the aides chuckled nervously. He wasn't much older than she.

"Certainly the government will do whatever it can to come to a peaceful resolution with whomever ends up in power in the current situation, and get them to allow us to leave, or negotiate a new peace." He did not sound as though he completely believed that part, but Gloria knew that, as a diplomat to Drachma, he could not afford to officially take sides in this conflict. Still, fleeing with Mihalov and other scattered members of the government was not going to look unbiased. At least, Gloria presumed, he could make the case for protecting his people first.

The next ten minutes felt like an eternity. Gloria left the television and stared out the window towards the north. Above the trees and multi-story row houses between her and the government district, she could see the normally rose-glow of the city lights had turned a dingy red, and dark smoke coiled up from several places. The city was on fire, and she couldn't help the shudder that ran down her spine, but Gloria was mostly surprised by the odd stillness that filled her. She was terrified, but it was as if some part of her body had shunted her fear away temporarily. Out there, people were dying for what they believed; dying to protect the innocent; dying to prove a point, likely on both sides. She didn't know much about these Zinoveks, but if riots like these were how they operated, she already despised them on principle.

There was no way this was good for Drachma. She couldn't see how. No country was perfect, but anything that simply…killed people like this, could be.

"I'm still having trouble processing that this is happening," Alexei admitted in a soft voice as he came up behind her. "I mean, academically—professionally—my head's there, but it's just so insane. I wonder if this is how my father felt when he was ordered to invade Amestris."

"It sounds like how my parents felt when they invaded," Gloria acknowledged, reaching back and grabbing Alexei's arms, drawing them around her like a shawl. "At least at first. Like it was impossible. Like it was completely crazy and someone had to be making it up, except it was actually happening. Dad said it only felt real when they started killing people."

"Then let's hope it doesn't come to that, at least not on our part. It's too late for them."

Gloria wanted to get out of here, and go home, but she knew they were going the wrong way for that. After this, would Drachma and Amestris be enemies again? The idea that her family might be thrown into battle again to help the fleeing members of the government they had been allied with terrified her. Her father had somehow evaded death more times than she could count. Could his luck hold out? Her little brother had just enlisted. Would he be sent to fight? "We've got to do something. I can't just watch this happen, but I don't know what to do right now besides survive."

"It's a start."

Below them, Gloria saw the gates open to allow in two more cars, and a pair of motorcycles. "It's time to go."

All told, there were four vehicles and two motorcycles available for the evacuation of the Amestrian Embassy. As mix-and-match as the vehicles were, Alexei was grateful that the Chairman's nephew cared enough for the Amestrians to have sent anything and filled them in on the evacuation plan. Still, it told him that Mihalov did not think the people attempting to take over would be favorable or forgiving. They needed to get out of the city until the remaining members of the military and police regained control and it was safe.

The cars filled quickly. What he had not counted on was his girlfriend's stubborn refusal to get in a car without him. "If you're not getting in, neither am I," she insisted stubbornly, arms crossed in front of her.

"There's not room for both of us," he objected, feeling a flutter of panic. He didn't want to be separated either, but he was certain she would be safer in the solid metal station wagon that had one seat left. "And I can drive a motorcycle." That was his plan. They were splitting the group up, two cars on one route, two on the other, and the motorcycles on the third.

"Then I'll ride with you. It will carry two," she gestured at the large black motorbike. She was right, of course. It had restraints for two and plenty of space. It even had a rack and bag that looked big enough to carry his bag and hers.

He could argue with her, or he could keep her close. His head and his heart were at war, but it only took him a few moments to realize it wasn't really his decision. Gloria had made her own. "All right." He turned to the other man who was riding the other motorcycle, one of the Embassy guards, a man he only knew as Kyle. "You know the route?"
Kyle nodded as he strapped on his helmet. "Straight west, get out of the city, then pick up the northwest highway up through the mountains. There are almost no forks in the highway up there, so it will be hard to get lost, and there are a handful of small villages we can stop in for gas and lodging."

"How long will the trip take?" Gloria asked as she grabbed the second helmet off the back of their bike, put it on, and started strapping their bags to the rack with packing straps with surprising efficiency.

"Two or three days, if we're fortunate. The roads may not be plowed well up there, and it depends on how long we can handle the cold."

"The cars are heated," Alexei reminded Gloria when she looked concerned.

She flashed him a cocky grin. "I can handle it."

"I'm sure you can." He was even more grateful now that she had purchased sensible winter wear. Alexei finished adjusting his own helmet and straddled the bike. He had ridden several like it in his visits growing up, and his father owned a motorcycle in Amestris, so it only took him a moment to verify his familiarity with all the critical controls.

As he did, Gloria settled in behind him, buckled tightly, and wrapped her arms around his back.

"Okay. Let's get the heck out of here."

"As you wish."