Three Years Later

Having relinquished his title as Führer to Grumman was difficult, but also crucial. To be reinstated as the leader of Amestris implied he'd be able to watch it thrive, an impossibility that was later eradicated by Dr. Marcoh's efforts; with the arrangement that Roy would assist on the reconstruction of Ishval as Brigadier General. Reinvigorated, he provided the doctor with the guarantee that he'd call off the military occupation, and return the lands to the Ishvalans that remained living in the slums. With the help of Major Miles in order to deal with Ishvalan affairs, and Scar having stepped up to plate to conserve cultural and religious beliefs, they managed to mend ties between the two rivaling countries, and even shaped it into a trading point between Amestris and Xing.

As a notable member of Central Military Command's board, it was a requirement for him to partake in their current discussion; one that had democracy as a foundation for the metropolis, rather than its current absolute law. He grew restless the longer he remained seated, something that could only be placated by the meeting's conclusion, which Grumman eventually granted.

Falling into step alongside him, Riza queried, "How was it, Sir?"

"Tedious," He grumbled under his breath, "I left with more paperwork than I started with."

"You knew it wouldn't be effortless." She stated blandly while holding the door ajar as he slipped into his coat, before venturing outside. "Your mail, Sir."

Roy perused the stack with indifference, until an envelope piqued his interest. He slid a curious finger under the flap, before erupting into a coughing fit from the smoke and glitter unleashed as a toy jack-in-a-box materialized before them while holding up a sign It's a Boy! His eyebrow twitched and Riza stifled a chuckle. He proceeded to stomp on it multiple times in a fit of rage, prior to igniting the doll and watching it unwind with a gargling sound as its googly eyes and long, blonde braid liquefied into a gooey mess. "FUUUUUULLMEEEEETAAAAAAAAAAAAL."

The train ride to Resembool was long, and Roy had been furiously protesting from the moment she bought the tickets at the booth, throughout the length of the ride while cramped in a single compartment, to finally arriving at the station by sunset. She had resorted to staring out the window, despite the barren country lands, some foliage and sheep farms merging together into an indistinguishable blur due to the train's speed, in hopes of funneling him out.

"Couldn't we be escorted there in a car?" Roy whined, tugging at the neck of his dress shirt as they walked along the path nearing the Rockbell household.

"You know we're not allowed to request transportation for personal furloughs, Sir." Riza reasoned, and he shot her a miffed look. From the porch of the residence, Den lifted his head at his own leisure and sprung to his feet with a wagging tail to greet the two, all the while barking. "Hey, boy," She exclaimed warmly, squatting down to scratch under his neck.

"HEY, MUSTANG." An automail leg kicked the front door open, "HOW'D YOU LIKE MY LETTER!" Followed by exaggerated laughter.

"THAT'S BRIGADIER GENERAL ROY MUSTANG TO YOU, YOU CHILDISH PLEBEIAN." The two men vanished into a cloud of dust as they ran one after the other, with intermittent insults ringing through the open field.

"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience," Al fumbled nervously, scratching the back of his head, "Brother forced me to transmute that for the General."

"It may not seem like it, but he's really glad to be here. It serves as a reprieve from our work over at Central," Riza offered him a warmhearted smile, "Thank you for notifying us. You look well, Alphonse."

A violent explosion caused the two to look over their shoulders to investigate its origin, they spotted Roy having donned his ignition gloves, trailed by a sequence of snaps. Edward slid into an abrupt stop among the debris, clapped his hands and set them on the ground to no avail. "Eh, worth a try." He leapt away at the last second, frowning at his singed boot upon safely landing elsewhere.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" Edward deadpanned at the shrill voice, then managed to dodge the zooming wrench thrown in his direction, "Winry, what giv-" he trailed off upon being smacked by the second.

Meticulously removing his gloves, Roy scrutinized Edward, whose limbs were contorted and had a single trail of blood emanating from his left nostril. "Serves you well, Fullmetal."

After being ushered inside by a flustered Winry, Riza politely excused herself from the conversation once idle talk derailed into the topic of Ishval's restoration. Roy relayed as much information as he was authorized to, with the exception of omitting stale aspects that the brothers wouldn't be intrigued by. Winry sauntered back into the living room carrying a tray of tea, before leaving the boys to their own devices upon seeing Riza resting her elbows over the railing on the porch. She climbed the stairs to her son's nursery and gently scooped him up while crooning a simple lullaby.

"Would you like to hold him?" Riza redirected her gaze to Winry as she emerged from behind her, carrying her infant son.

"I'd like that." Riza stiffly held him once the fussing baby was transferred to her arms, and her tightened mouth developed into a gaping smile. She readjusted the blanket around him, peering into vibrant gold eyes that fluttered slowly and then squinted close while yawning.

Winry cooed while offering a finger for the infant to curl his delicate hand around, "Miss Riza, how do you do it?" Upon seeing the Captain's puzzled look, she continued, "How can you give up so easily on your happiness with the General for the sake of our country?

"We chose this path the moment we put on our uniforms." She voice, repositioning the fallen pacifier between the baby's lips, "So people like you, people like Edward and Alphonse, could continue their lives unencumbered. But we were unwilling pawns in a greater plan, and it's now our duty to correct it."

Winry opened her mouth to refute, but was interrupted by Pinako, who was in the kitchen supervising the beef stew, calling her to help with dinner. The baby began getting fussier, all the while rubbing his eyes with a tiny fist and pulling at his ear in between gurgles. Riza ascended the stairs and laid him in his crib, which was barren and had faint traces of alchemical transmutation.

"This look suits you." Roy murmured, nonchalantly leaning against the door's frame with crossed arms.

"I beg to differ," She replied, mirth in her tone. "He's so fragile."

"He's a cute kid."

Their eyes met, and in the interval of a second, he envisioned the future he ached to provide for her. One where she was an ardent lover instead of a soldier whose hands were saturated in blood. One where she was a mother holding her own kin instead of yearning to appease her delusions by living vicariously through someone else.

A knock on the door garnered their attention, and Alphonse interjected shortly after, "Brother doesn't want to admit it, but he's doing his best to be the father he believed we never had." His shoulders sagged, "I just wish mom and dad were here to see us."

"I'm sure they'd be proud of the men you've both become." Riza consoled him.

"Yeah," Alphonse sheepishly grinned, pink tinting his cheeks, "Granny says dinner's ready."

After partaking in a short meal, they were accompanied to the station by Edward and Alphonse, despite having politely demurred at the suggestion. Gesturing a goodbye from within the train, Riza leafed through a book while Roy scrutinized her countenance.

"So we're at a stalemate." He observed as she lowered her book to intersect his gaze, "The rules of chess state that when a stalemate occurs, the game ends in a draw. But it could also serve as a metaphor, where conflict has reached an impasse and resolution, if even possible, is unattainable."

"Ah," Amber eyes cast down, Riza sealed her book close, "And so we are."

With a grim expression, he uttered, "We've never set aside time to sift through that night at the hospital."

"We've never had to," She countered, eyes brimming with longing transfixed on the window.

Growing increasingly apprehensive, Roy scooted forward to clutch both of her hands, which laid atop the book on her lap. "Your firmness is unnerving, Hawkeye."

She tenderly relocated her palms above his while volunteering a smile. "I only seek to be reassuring, Sir."

Her response helped assuage his displeasure, he squeezed her hands before prying them out of her grasp and sitting upright. Whereas Riza reopened her book and resumed where she had left off for the remainder of the ride home.