Soldiers stood guard at the front gate and many other points throughout the house and property. Their presence relayed a sense of peace and protection rather than dread and impending violence. Caterers, decorators, carpenters, and other workers were rushing all over, busy putting finishing touches on the house itself as well as the preparations for the Fuhrer's official reception party.

None of these people took note of the woman and child standing on the front porch waiting. They were too busy doing their part to make this evening perfect. Besides, those two people belonged here. This was their home after all.

Reyna stood on the front porch of the Fuhrer's mansion staring at the door. Her belly quivered with uncertainty. Throughout her life, this door had represented a portal to varying to degrees of hell. The last time she had walked through this door had been her worst encounter yet when her father had gone missing. However, today she would be entering this house not as a child coming home to her father but as the First Lady of Amestris and wife to the new Fuhrer of Amestris. She squeezed the small hand in her palm to comfort herself. This place would be home to a whole new family. Her family.

"Mom," Selim called to her, his voice higher than normal.

"Yes, baby?" she rejoined, her eyes studying the polished lion's head brass knocker that reflected her image.

"I can't feel my fingers."

"Oh, sorry." Her fingers loosened from around his. Her eyes moved down to him when his hand tightened around hers.

"Don't let go."

Reyna smiled at her son who immediately flashed her a charming smile so wide his eyes squinted and disappeared. His overly big, super cheesy grin instantly melted her heart. Her sweet boy; the spitting image of his father.

"Selim, are you scared?"

Reyna nervously chewed her lower lip. She was petrified. This would be the first time either one of them had stepped foot in this house in quite a while. Many things, many awful things, had transpired here. But some good things had occurred here too and would continue happening. There was a different energy encompassing this place. A good energy. The ambient air felt alive, carrying a palpable sensation of optimistic anticipation.

"A little," he admitted, putting his hand on the shiny new doorknob. "I'm happy too. This is our home. We'll be living here as a real family. But..."

"I know," she said, ruffling his hair with free hand. She wished she could brush off the sadness that enveloped him like a dark shadow. "I miss him too. We'll find him. He's okay. I'm sure of it. I feel it. Here."

Reyna pressed her hand over her heart to demonstrate where she stubbornly held the tiniest sliver of hope that they would find King Bradley alive. Logically, her expectation seemed futile, even to her. The bizarre incongruity that she wished so desperately for him to be alive after spending years of praying for his death so fervently sometimes made her heart ache while guilt swarmed her like painfully stinging bees. Too late she had discovered a part of him that she never knew existed. Too late he allowed her to be privy to the tender emotions and deep seated love that he had always kept carefully hidden away from her, and from himself.

"Mom?" Selim tugged on her hand.

"Am I holding on too tightly again?"

"No. Let's go inside. People are starting to stare."

Reyna glanced around to see the painters had stopped dabbing white paint on the windowsills and the landscapers in the flowerbeds lining the porch had ceased pushing the dirt over the roots of the bright red begonias they were planting to gaze at them. Their lingering presence at the door had also attracted the attention of the soldiers at the front gate, one of which belonged to Roy's private unit.

"Good day, Mrs. Mustang," the handsome and flirtatious blonde greeted her.

"Hello, Major Havoc," she returned, curtsying to him. She almost giggled to see the man blush because she had paid him an unnecessary show of respect. However, she believed such respect was due to one of the people who had kept her beloved husband safe as his commander and would continue to protect him as his Fuhrer.

"Is everything okay, ma'am? I'm sure the door is unlocked."

"Everything is fine." Now it was her turn to blush. She was sure they did look pretty silly standing on the front porch and staring at the door as if it were a monster that might eat them. But none of their observers could comprehend what her and Selim were feeling. After everything that had happened here, especially recent tragic events, going inside made for an anxiety producing, emotional ordeal for them. "We'll be going inside. Thank you."

"Let's go, Mom. You're with me, and I'll protect you," Selim assured her, gripping her hand with impressive strength while he grasped and turned the doorknob.

The door swung open to reveal the entrance way that had always been something like entering the foyer of a cathedral since it opened all the way up to the second floor ceiling and the surrounding rooms on the first floor. The house had been cleaned and remodeled. Her father's office was gone. The formal dining room had been expanded to include a sitting area and a dance floor where the wrecked office had been located. The rooms on the right had been combined to make one massive master suite for her and Roy. She had insisted they create the suite because the bedroom upstairs had belonged to her father and mother; that was their room. She and Roy required one of their own. The guest rooms on the second floor had received a fresh coat of paint and all new furnishings to make them her own and not a carryover of the past.

Selim's room was still upstairs where hers had been. Nothing had changed in his room. His good memories, and a lot of hers, were contained in that room and there was no real reason to eradicate them. Upon entering his bedroom, the child began rushing from one side to the other, checking to make sure all of his favorite toys and books were still there. Reaching into the drawer of his desk, he retrieved a notebook and a pen before sitting down in the middle of his bed. He opened the book in preparation to start writing.

"Mom," he said, his pen pressed to paper but not moving. "Is it okay if I have a little time to myself? I want to write down some thoughts."

Reyna stood up straight from where she had been leaning against the door jamb content to watch her son who was thrilled to be back in his own personal space. His sudden seriousness and mature way of speaking made him seem so much older to her. She was getting a glimpse of the man he would become, and what she saw pleased her greatly. Thank you, Dad. You took such good care of my son until I could get back to him.

"Of course. There's something I want to do as well. Take your time."

Reyna backed out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. Turning to the end of the hallway, she inhaled a deep steadying breath while taking deliberate steps toward her father's bedroom. Her fingers shook as she reached out for the doorknob.

She had requested that nothing be touched in this room; only for it to be dusted and cleaned. The framed pictures of her mother and a few of her parents wedding pictures remained lined up across the mantle of the fireplace in his room. Photographs of her alone and with her mother covered the top of the dresser.

On the bedside table sat a single photograph in a plain silver frame. The picture was of her and her father. She remembered when this photo was taken. It had been her first of day of school. Her mother had snapped the picture when her father knelt down in front of her to hug her good bye at the front gates of the same school Selim presently attended.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, she stared at the photograph, a snapshot of happier times. Her trembling fingers traced her father's face. He was so young - and so incredibly happy. They were all happy. Her tiny arms were wrapped around his strong neck, not wanting to let him go. A smile, full of sad nostalgia, pulled at the corners of her lips while tears stung her eyeballs. Then she saw something that made her gasp. Despite the smile on his face, there were tears on his cheeks. She had never noticed that before. He had not wanted to let her go either.

"Daddy," she whispered, hugging the picture to her chest that constricted painfully with her restrained emotions. The tears she attempted to hold back squeezed past her eyelids when they closed over her brimming eyes. "Please come home to us, safe and sound."

"Reyna?"

"Roy," she wheezed, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Don't do that. You'll smear it," he said, walking toward her. Sitting down on the bed next to her, his hip pressing into hers. He used his handkerchief to dab away her tears. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he raised it carefully to give her face a thorough once over with the piece of cloth to remove the mascara smudges and errant tears. "There. Lovely as always. Are you all right?"

"All things considered, I'm fine," she replied, managing a smile on wavering lips.

"All things considered," he repeated, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, then embraced her. "Everything will be great from here on."

Reyna leaned into him, sighing deeply. Her belly fluttered. This sensation was different than mere nerves. It felt...she pressed her palm to her abdomen that had developed a gradual curve. Something inside of her moved, pushing from the interior of her belly to skim across her palm. Her chest constricted further making it almost impossible for her to breathe. The movement was barely perceptible, soft and fleeting like the brush of a butterfly's gossamer wings. She had ignored the signs for so long, afraid to believe it could be possible.

"Roy, give me your hand," she commanded him forcefully.

"Why?" His dark eyebrows drew together over his worried ebony eyes. "What's wrong?"

She was acting weird again. It bothered him more then he cared to admit. He also could not perceive what she was feeling. He did not know if she was happy or sad or afraid. At her insistence, he extended his palm which she swiftly grabbed and held to her belly. For the first time, he noticed the roundness of her expanded abdomen. He woudn't dare to ask if she was getting fat. That would get him a well deserved fat lip.

"Are you sure you're feeling well? What's going - " The words froze in his throat when her belly twitched ever so slightly under his palm. No, something inside of her belly moved. His surprise widened eyes met hers that were glazed with more tears. Tears of joy? "Is that...does this mean...are you..."

"Roy, we're going to have a baby," she whispered, unable to find her voice.

"How long have you known?" As if responding to his voice, he felt the life growing inside of her tap lightly against his palm. A child. His child.

"For a while. I've just been too afraid to be honest with myself and believe what was happening to me. I was afraid that if I said something, that if I began to feel happy about the baby, something would happen to make it disappear." She gulped as if to swallow the tears that welled inside of her, her eyes shifting between his while he stared at her face.

"Oh, my god," he murmured, his gaze sliding down to her belly. "A baby. Selim will be getting a brother or sister."

"It's so exciting. So many good things are happening for us. I'm happy," she confessed, picking up his handkerchief to dry the tears that escaped despite her efforts to contain them.

"Oh, Reyna, I'm so happy too," he gushed, encircling her shoulders with his arms to give her a hug of bone crushing magnitude. "This is the sixth happiest day of my life."

"Sixth?"

"Well, the first would be when I met you. The second when you married me. The third when you were pregnant the first time. The fourth when you came back to me. The fifth was when we were reunited with Selim to be a family. So finding out that I'm going to be a father again would be the sixth," he explained with a big grin like the one his son had given her earlier. "All of these days have been very important to me. Just like the people who made those days so special."

"The day you became fuhrer didn't make the list?" she teased him, holding his beaming round face between her hands.

"It's definitely in the top ten, but it's nowhere near as wonderful as those days. The happiness you have brought me can't even compare to that."

Reyna would have to agree. His six happiest days were also hers. No one in the world could ever make her happier than Roy Mustang.