Acknowledgement: This chapter wouldn't have been possible without help from the following: 1) Bookwrm389 whose awesomeness knows no bounds, 2) maryh10000 who gave me her valuable time and went over this story and all the political issues as well as red tape with me and 3) Sonja Jade who is responsible for the Breda/Chris pairing that has now become my headcanon. All three are amazing writers so I suggest you check them out right away.


And now I'm with you,

I'm close to tears,

'Cuz I know I'm almost here…


The truth was a difficult thing to acknowledge. And for as long as they could remember, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye had contented themselves with running around it, away from it and parallel to it. After all, it was much easier to show how they felt than talk about it. Ever since Ishval, the alchemist and his most trusted subordinate had mastered the art of finding ways to not talk. Everyone admired them for it, recognizing immediately that this lack of communication was proof of how close they really were. Everyone except little Kain Fuery who had been transferred under Mustang's unit at the age of nineteen and, while in awe of both his superiors, had genuinely wondered if this ever led to any confusion and misunderstandings between the two.

The guys had scoffed at him when he had asked this at lunch a few months after his transfer. Falman had made no reply, remaining quietly thoughtful. Havoc had chuckled, and Breda had made a crack about "intimate knowledge". Maes Hughes, who had been visiting Lieutenant Colonel Mustang that week, had been the only one to say "Finally, we get a kid with a good head on his shoulders!"

After the Brigadier General's death, this was the memory by which Fuery recalled Hughes most often. It had meant a lot to the Communications Expert at the time, being the youngest member of the group, to be acknowledged by Lieutenant Colonel Hughes like that. And as time had gone by and Fuery had effectively "grown a spine" as Havoc put it, the young Captain had come to the conclusion that he had been right all those years ago. It wasn't that Mustang and Hawkeye didn't communicate because they didn't need to…he was sure now that they didn't know how to. After all, how does one learn to talk if he spends all his life giving nonverbal commands that are followed to a T?

Fuery had known how the Fuhrer felt when Hawkeye was leaving. He had also known what Hawkeye must be going through. What he couldn't fathom was why they weren't talking about it. Surely even yelling and screaming would be better than the cold silences that seeped into the office those last few months before the General left?

And what was worse, he hadn't done anything about it either. He could hardly preach the virtues of communication when he, the man who made it his business to know who was saying what, where and when, had remained mute and watched her leave.

No, Captain Fuery had made the mistake of staying quiet once. He was not going to do it again. Even if it led to nothing, at least he would be able to talk to the woman whom he had unknowingly given the place of surrogate mother/sister for too many years now.

Picking up the receiver with feverish fingers, the Captain dialed the operator. "Hello, Captain Kain Fuery from the Fuhrer's office here. Connect me to the Dublith Military Base ASAP!"


"So… what do we do now?" Roy was the first to speak in the wake of all that had been discussed earlier. Somehow, they had both ended up on the sofa again, and his arms had found their way around her while her head rested on his broad shoulder.

"You have to go back, Sir." The words stabbed at him as if they had physical mass.

"And you?"

"I can't," she said simply, and he understood. He couldn't ask more from her than she had already given him.

"You know I love you, right?"

"It's starting to sink in," she replied with a small smile.

Silence enveloped them once more, and the alchemist would have been content to sit there with Hawkeye for all eternity. But a few minutes later, she spoke again.

"Besides, I made a promise to you, and I still intend to keep it."

Just the mention of that particular promise made Roy feel hollow inside. After all that he had done, surely she wouldn't still be thinking about..?

"But General, you don't have to… I would understand, and it's my burden to bear, you… can't, not for me…"

"Wrong again, Sir. Only for you."


Iolanth Mustang rounded the corner of level two, followed by Jean Havoc who was currently in the process of searching his pockets for a lighter. Damn it all, he hadn't smoked all day, and if he didn't get a nicotine fix soon, he was going to have a nervous breakdown.

There were voices coming from up ahead, but Havoc couldn't be bothered. He was a Lieutenant General, after all, and everyone else who was of a higher rank knew him well enough not to grudge him a smoke. "Excuse me, Your Ladyship but it really has been a taxing day," he muttered when he finally located the item in question and reached to light his cigarette just as the metal doors to the human resources subdivision office opened, revealing the idiot Colonel, Breda, His Excellency and - after all this time – Hawkeye.

Havoc barely noticed the cigarette falling to the ground as his lips parted in a silent gasp.


They introduced her as Elizabeth Grumman. They said she worked in Human Resources at the base. Not even a real soldier. They were obviously lying.

Because the moment Iolanth Mustang laid eyes on the woman standing respectfully two feet behind Roy, she had known, just known, that this was the mysterious Riza Hawkeye. The realization was so simple and silly and painful that the princess had wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Until she laid eyes on this Riza, she had thought she could perhaps talk it over with Roy, maybe reach an understanding, make room in his heart for two…

Now she realized how ridiculous that notion had been.

Because right there, standing behind and a little to her husband's left, it was clear to everyone in the room that the understated woman should be standing beside him. Not her, not Princess Iolanth Lukashenko, First Lady of Amestris. No, it was this quiet woman with brownish red eyes that looked to be a part of Roy. Iolanth had always known he loved this Riza deeply, but seeing them together was like seeing her husband's image completed for the first time.

All the questions she had wanted to ask, all the accusations she had fancied hurling at him all the while knowing she never would, everything she had wanted to say died on her lips as she stared at the woman standing two feet behind Roy Mustang.

"Excuse me, Elizabeth, there's a call for you at reception from a Captain Fuery, Central base, I believe," Colonel McPherson's voice jolted the First Lady out of her trance. And just like that, Riza Hawkeye was leaving. A polite nod to His Excellency, a soft "excuse me" to Her Ladyship, a discreet glance at the various Generals and Colonel and she was out of the room and, Iolanth couldn't help thinking, out of their lives once again.

Finally, the exhaustion of the day registered, and the princess sank down on a nearby sofa, closing her eyes.


Roy Mustang stepped into the small train compartment and offered a hand to his wife, who took it tentatively. The cold morning air was chilly, but he doubted that was the only reason Iolanth was shivering. All night, she had been feverish and restless, and a journey to Central couldn't do her any good right now. But still she had insisted on accompanying him back, and he had a feeling he knew what this was about.

Once they were comfortably seated, she looked him directly in the eye.

"Roy, how much would you say a husband should respect his wife?"

Sighing in defeat, the Fuhrer lowered his head. "Enough to tell her the truth."

To his surprise, she slowly reached out a hand and entwined her fingers with his, a Drachman gesture of friendship and loyalty. Her eyes, when he finally mustered the courage to look into them, were warm green pools of understanding, and not for the first time, he realized how many people he had wronged in his quest for the greater good.

"I suppose you can say it all started in Ishval. I was only twenty at the time and just promoted to State Alchemist and a Major…"


Dear Riza,

Yes, your last letter did find me "safe and sound". And if you ever write something so formal again, I'm going to come down there and kick your ass. Who do you think you are anyway, disappearing on your best girlfriend for years and then sending a bloody Dublith's Special Fruits Basket in lieu of an apology? Though to be fair, Jean did tell me the fruit basket was his idea. Apparently he wanted to see me lose my marbles. God, do you ever get the feeling he's the same hick we met back at the academy?

Anyway, as you might have surmised from the phone calls Kain has been nice enough to let everyone make (on The Fuhrer's expense, of course), everyone was ecstatic to hear from you. Do you know Sciezka actually cried? Though Falman said it must have just been the hormones. Being six months along is no joke.

Elysia and Gracia send their love too, as does Madam Christmas. At least, that's what it sounds like behind all that smoke. Breda has taken some time off to be with Chris, and even though he says she should have seen it coming, smoking like the chimney that she is, he's still going through a pretty rough time. Would you believe Roy extended another month's paid leave for him? Pretty uncharacteristic for the guy who almost burnt Breda alive when he found out about them.

And just to let you know, next time Jean comes down to Dublith, he won't be the only one. I've already requested leave-

"Good morning, Liz! How you manage to get up so early every day, I will never understand," Lieutenant Ruby Dunne greeted the blonde as she entered the small office on level two. "Oh, sorry, were you reading? Hey, are those the new salary increases for the year?" she continued excitedly.

Her colleague put down the letter, looking up at Ruby from behind her square cut glasses. "No, just some personal correspondence."

"Oh, personal." The redhead playfully made to swipe the letter. "Could it be from the same person who keeps sending you all these flowers?"

"Afraid not," the blonde replied, but Lieutenant Dunne could see a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Oh, and by the way, could you tell your secret admirer to send bouquets like a normal person?' the Lieutenant joked, taking off her coat and hanging it on her chair. "I mean, who sends flowers already put in vases?"

Elizabeth only shrugged "Who indeed?"


End Note: For those of you who wish for a happy ending for this fic, stop reading right here. I only have an epilogue to go but I can promise you it won't be happy. So for those who don't want to get their hearts stomped on, stop reading after this chapter! Oh who am I kidding, nearly all Royai fans (including myself) have a masochistic streak.

As usual, I love hearing your thoughts, so please send them my way.