Originally Published: Aug 12, 2021
Last Edited: September 1, 2022
A/N: As always, thank you for the new follows and favorites. Thank you to those who have also been reading for a while now. I love hearing from you guys in the reviews.
Chapter 26
Departure
Monday, December 28, 1896
Roy loitered at the bar, the slight static of the radio playing Holiday music coming from behind him. He swung his legs on the stool, still too short to reach the footrest. Picking up his hot chocolate, he sipped the peppermint cocoa quietly, the window panes shuddering against the gusting wind outside.
This was the second day of the blizzard, and boredom had settled in over the bar. Two of the girls were lazily playing darts, another three leaning on their billiards sticks and the pool table, gossiping quietly.
They were the holdouts, though they had only had one customer since the storm had started, and he'd left early last night. The rest of the girls were huddled upstairs in their blankets or beds, trying to keep warm. East City wasn't used to this kind of storm, and everything had shut down.
Already in the second week of his winter break, Roy had run out of things to occupy himself with. He'd finished his current alchemy analysis by Silver Steiner late last night and couldn't go to the library in this mess to pick another book. So, he hung around, watching the girls try to stay entertained.
There was a sudden thump upstairs, and some feminine shouting. Everyone in the bar paused, eyes flying up towards the ceiling. Rachel hastily abandoned her dart on the board, rushing over to turn off the radio with a quick twist of her wrist.
"…believe you are still pushing for this!" Izumi's muffled shout became more clear with the radio off.
"That's no reason for you to act like a child," Chris countered, her gruffer voice raised as well.
"Shit…" Millie whispered, slowly standing up straight from leaning on the pool table. Gwen shook her head, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she crossed over to Roy, resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
"You don't listen to me, though. I don't want this life. I've never wanted it," Izumi cried out, her voice cracking.
"What's going on?" Roy asked, looking up at Gwen. His only response was a squeeze on his shoulder and a soft shushing.
"And what's so wrong with this life? I didn't raise you to be so judgmental of a person based on their profession."
"That's not the problem. Go ahead, fuck whoever pays you. But I want nothing to do with it."
Her words were followed by stomping steps, Chris demanding, "Where are you going? We're not done." Her voice came clearer as a door opened upstairs.
"You know what, we're not," Izumi snapped. "Because I have a little brother who deserves better. Tell me, Chrissy, can you name even one of his friends? Hmm? What about mine?" A silence followed, Roy's shoulders hunching as he ducked behind his hot chocolate.
"Izumi…"
"You can't, can you? You want to know why? Because kids at school are being told by their parents that they can't associate with us. 'Don't hang out with the whore kids.' 'Don't let them teach you bad manners, or foul language.' 'Don't let them touch you.' I've been asked by girls at school how to seduce someone. I've been asked by boys to show them what I've been taught here. They're asking me for sexual favors, Chris!"
"Zumi…"
"I'm tired of it! You know, I've been sexually assaulted at school four times. It's a miracle I'm still a virgin! I'm sick of feeling violated. I'm sick of being called a whore, and a bitch, and a slut.
"This started when I was twelve, Chris. Twelve! Roy's eleven! Doesn't that concern you at all? Sure, any discrimination he'll be shown will be different because he's a boy, but it still scares the shit out of me!"
Behind him, Gwen's arms shifted around him, hugging him from behind. "You didn't say anything…" Chris uttered, her tone clearly shocked.
"I was a kid," Izumi's voice hitched again. "What did you expect me to do? I come here everyday, and I see everyone acting like casual sex is normal, and fun. For years I thought something was wrong with me. I- I don't know, Chris. I'd lost my parents, and every time I brought up living somewhere else, you always shot me down."
A quiet fell upon the bar, everyone waiting with baited breath. "So, what do you plan to do?" Chris asked.
"I'm leaving," Izumi's voice cracked. "Now that I'm an adult and I've gotten my inheritance, I can go. I can find an alchemy teacher. Be treated with respect by people who don't know how I was raised. Maybe find a husband and have a family. Be a housewife…" her voice grew weaker, trailing off.
Another long pause then Chris asked, "Do you really think that'll make you happy? Husbands don't grow on trees, you know," There was a pain in her voice, cracking on the word 'husbands'.
"Goodbye, Chris."
Footsteps moved upstairs, a rustle around the bar making Roy perk up in Gwen's arms. "Izumi. Izumi, the storm! You can't go out in that."
Rushed steps came crashing down the front staircase. Izumi broke into sight, carrying her backpack and wearing her winter boots. Several of the girls scrambled, rushing to Izumi and babbling over each other. "Izumi, don't go." "You'll get frostbite. Wait until the storm's passed." "Where are you going, Zumi? Can I write to you?"
She ignored them, snatching her fluffy, white winter coat from the mud closet and pulling it on. Roy watched numbly, his lips parted as it came crashing down on him.
Izumi was leaving. Izumi was going to go and find an alchemy teacher. His Izumi…
He broke from Gwen's arms, landing on the floor with a jolt. He ran for her, breaking through the gaggle of girls and clutching to her coat. "Izumi!"
She spun on him, tears springing from her eyes as she looked down at him.
"Izumi, don't go! Don't leave me!" he was surprised to find his voice cracking, tears running freely down his cheeks.
She stared at him, shocked. "Roy?"
"Don't go! Please. Who's going to teach me alchemy? Who's going to keep me company?"
She shook her head roughly, pulling free from his grasp. "I can't teach you anymore, Roy. I don't know any more. That's why I'm going to find a teacher."
"Then take me with you!" he begged, his throat hurting from how raw his emotions were. Her expression hardened, her eyes growing determined. She turned from him, moving to the door. "IZUMI!"
"I can't take care of you, kid," she determined. She glanced over her shoulder, opening the door. The wind rushed in, the sunlight filtering through the flurries made outside a blinding white canvas. Shivering, Roy hugged himself, the tears on his face stinging against the cold. "You'd just slow me down," she whispered. Then she stepped out, closing the door.
And was gone.
A few flakes of snow drifted down to the floor around him, the girls silent and still.
He stood there, the shock halting any more tears.
"Cecilia, call the cops. Let them know we…" Chris started from the top of the stairs.
"She's not a minor anymore, Madame," Cecilia pointed out.
"She's an idiot who just ran out into a blizzard! She's endangering her own life out there," Chris barked back.
"I'm going after her!" Jenny cried, several girls running upstairs to change into winter apparel and boots.
A bustle broke across the bar, girls crying out and making suggestions. Girls who had been upstairs came down, already fumbling with gloves and scarves before they broke out the door, calling out for Izumi.
"Roy," Gwen prompted softly. He looked up at her as she took his hand. "Come on. I'll stay with you while they look for her."
Friday, January 15, 1897
News trickled in.
"She bought a ticket to Central!"
"She stayed at the Granite Inn for three nights."
"She bought five bagels from a café on New Harvard Street."
"She frequented all three civilian libraries in Central."
"She took a train North."
…
Then silence. She'd gotten off the train at North City and vanished.
Roy had cried. That first week had been rough. He felt like a sniveling little kid again, resenting how much her absence hurt. Then school started again, and Izumi's voiced concerns began haunting him.
Before, he'd been blissfully unaware of the whispers as he passed in the halls at school, too excited for his science and history and math classes to notice. His old habits of settling down with a book at recess started to seem isolating. Then, when he had tried to play with Freddy and Kendal, they'd shifted awkwardly and ran off. He'd tried being friendly with boys and girls alike, putting on his best, winning smile, and it only softened the awkwardness fractionally as they pulled away.
He didn't have Izumi to hang out with anymore, and the loneliness was only encroaching.
Frustrated after another week of no social progress, Roy yanked his mattress off of its frame, huffing as it thumped to the floor. Climbing on top of the wire frame, he peered between the wall and the metal, finding nothing but a stray pen and dust bunnies. Tears pricked at his eyes as he sneezed, backing off of the frame and waving his hand in front of his face to dispel the dust.
His room was trashed, his desk and clothes thrown every which way, and he still couldn't find it. A hot flash of anger surged through his chest as he screamed, kicking the partisan. His foot broke plaster, and as he pulled back, he left a hole to the other side.
There was a thump and hasty footsteps, the door to the room opening, then the door to his side. Chrissy held it open, staring at him in surprise. His breath was heavy from the physical exertion and his anger, and he could feel some hair standing up wrong on the crown of his head.
"Roy," she scolded, looking around his room with wide eyes. She let go of his doorknob, running her hands down her slender frame, smoothing her maroon colored dress. "What the hell are you doing?"
Still fuming, he grabbed his mattress, tugging it back up onto its frame. "I can't find Silver Steiner's discourse on alchemy. I already renewed it in December, and it's due today."
She blinked, "A library book. You've trashed your room because of a library book?"
"Yes," he tossed his hands up before picking up stray clothes and throwing them onto the bed to be sorted later. "I've never had a late book before, and I don't want a fine. I know I finished it over the break, but I can't find it. I even… I even checked Zumi's stuff," he explained, growing quiet.
After a long moment, she beckoned him, holding out a hand, "Come here, Roy-Boy."
Reluctantly, he crossed to her, taking her hand. She led him into Izumi's half of the room, the space drastically neater than his half was. They sat down on the edge of Izumi's bed, the mattress springs creaking under their weight.
She cupped his hand in both of hers, staring down at it as she started rubbing his knuckles and fingers. "Roy… Do you feel… Are you happy at school?"
He pulled his hand from hers, staring at Izumi's desk. She waited for him, a quiet settling over them as he decided what to say. "I mean- I like school, but- kids avoid me. I used to read or study during breaks, but I started noticing what Izumi said. I've tried reaching out since the beginning of the semester, but everyone always finds an excuse to leave, or they'll ignore me then whisper behind my back when I walk away."
Her fingers gently ran through his hair, fixing it. "It's really that bad?"
"I mean, compared to what Izumi was describing, I don't have it bad at all," he shrugged.
"You're also younger and other kids your age may not understand what a brothel is or what it implies." He shrugged noncommittally, rubbing his hands together. "I've been thinking a lot, and it's your last semester of primary school. I chose public secondary school for Izumi because… Well, I don't have a good reason. It was easy. It might have been wrong of me, though."
He looked up at her, not certain he understood where she was going with this. She cleared her throat, shifting on the bed as she pulled her hand back. "If you were to, say, have a private tutor instead of attending secondary school, I take it you'd want an alchemist?"
His eyes widened, "Yes! Yes, I'd love to study alchemy like that!"
She grimaced, "And that scares me."
"What?" he uttered, his excitement vanishing instantly.
She wetted her lips, nervously brushing his fringe out of the way. "If Sying hadn't know alchemy, she wouldn't have gone with your father that night. She would've stayed home." She looked down at her hands, rubbing her thighs absently. "But I didn't listen to Izumi, and I want to do better for you. I'll look into alchemy teachers for you. You'll keep going to public school until I find one, and I want you to keep trying to make friends. If you decide you're happy where you're at, let me know. But, give me some time. I'm also looking for Izumi."
He flung his arms around her, pressing his face against her bosom. Her smoky scent still overwhelmed his nose, but he clung to her, gratitude and pain making his eyes sting with fresh tears. After a long moment, she hugged him back.
Saturday, October 5, 1918
The muffled sound of Riza's and a male voice stopped, dampened well by the closet's walls. Roy leaned against the dresser, his shirt in hand as he waited for Riza's all clear.
After a long silence, the closet door opened to her. Riza didn't meet his eyes as she pulled away, leaving the door open as she glided back into the bathroom. "He's left," she announced mutedly.
"He?" he asked, following her out. She'd crossed to the large bathtub, reaching under the faucet and unplugging the tub with a plop and burble of water rushing down the drain.
"Grumman," she answered simply, collecting her frizzy hair behind her neck and bending down to blow out a candle on the rim of the tub.
"Are you not bathing?" he asked, crossing over to join her.
She shook her head, blowing out another candle. "I'm too tired, I would just fall asleep. With how big the tub is, I could drown."
"That's rather morbid. I could have supervised you," he pointed out as he began helping her blow out candles.
She pursed her lips, glancing sideways at him as she straightened. "I would rather do that in bed tonight. Our first time together in the Fuhrer's Manor…"
He paused, realization hitting him. She shifted, grabbing the wine bottle and carrying it over to the counter. The bathrobe didn't define her curves as well as her silky one back at home, but he thought her hips were swaying under all that fluff.
"So, you do want to? Here? Tonight? It's not the wine talking?"
She chuckled, pouring herself another glass. "Oh, the wine is certainly helping my willingness. But I want to talk first. Maybe have my cake. Can you wait that long?"
Snuffing the last candle, he straightened. "Of course I can. I'm not some animal."
She giggled, collecting the clothes set out across the counter. "Sometimes you growl like one. A 'mighty beast' in bed."
Embarrassed and oddly proud, he saw his cheeks pinken in the mirror. "Well, as long as you like that…"
She turned to look back at him, her own cheeks rosy. She slowly dragged her eyes down his figure, quickly meeting his gaze when she was done checking him out. "You balance it out nicely," she determined, turning from him and crossing towards the door. "Could you pick up my shirt, Sir?" Uncertain, he followed, doing as asked before joining her in the bedroom.
She'd set up next to the bed, and damn her, she'd slipped off her skirt during their brief separation. She stepped out of the knit tweed, bending to pick it up off the thick carpet. She still wore the bathrobe and he could see no sign of the red lace he'd been thrilled to discover her wearing. If she was still hiding it, he supposed he could forgive her for taking that sexy pencil skirt off for him.
He moved to his side of the bed, setting her blouse and his shirt on top of the covers. He hesitated, looking at the bedding. "What is it?" she asked, folding her skirt into a square before snatching her blouse.
"We'll just have to remake the bed when I leave," he conceded, moving to unzip his pants and push them down, leaving his boxers in place.
She hummed, the sound slightly disappointed as she set her folded blouse on top of her skirt, grabbing both and tucking them into her bag. "True."
Taking his socks off, he hastily folded his clothes as Riza set her pajamas on the nightstand next to her wine before crossing back to the rolling table and finally claiming her 'cake'.
"So, today was busy," he began, "and I know you were- unhinged by a lot of it. That's the reason I came over here in the first place: to make sure you were doing alright," he explained, setting his clothes aside and climbing into bed.
She returned, careful as she joined him, holding the plate of the gauche drizzled torte from dinner. He reached over, adjusting a pillow behind her so she could lean back against the headboard, one of her Glocks peeking out. He grabbed it before she could sit on it, setting it aside on his nightstand.
She frowned at him and he quickly reassured, "I'll give it back when we're done."
Huffing, she settled, leaning back as she scooped up a bite. "I'm sorry. You had plans for today, and I… I really didn't want to tell you about my period until I was back at your… Until I came back home," she corrected. "It was constantly haunting me and I didn't want you to feel the same way. You're so busy between your duties as General and taking care of Chris…"
"Riza," he interrupted tenderly, sliding a hand around her waist and pulling her against his side in a cuddle. "I'm your partner. I'm your boyfriend or fiancé or husband or however you want to define it. I want you to tell me your concerns. Your worries. Your fears. Besides, I feel personally responsible for the pregnancy scare and I want to be held responsible for anything related to it."
She evasively took the bite of torte, staring at the plate as she chewed slowly. She sighed as she swallowed, leaning into their snuggle more as she stared ahead. "I know. But- I wanted to keep it to myself. I'm sorry, that's how I've coped for years. I knew I needed to tell you, but I didn't…" she cut herself off, pursing her lips with a hint of displeasure.
He waited a long moment, but when it became clear she was too troubled by her thoughts, he brushed her arm, softly asking, "How is it?"
She blinked, looking up at him then to her plate. "Was any part of dinner disappointing?"
"No," he admitted, then shrugged, "Well, there could have been more rice."
She scoffed playfully, nudging him with her elbow. "That's your Xingese blood talking."
A disbelieving "What?!" escaped his throat as he tickled her sides in revenge. She squealed, trying to escape his quick fingers without dropping her plate. "That, my Àirén, is racist!"
"Stop! I'm sorry!" she peeled with laughter, squirming against him.
He did, keeping his hands at the sensitive dips of her waist. "You owe me, my Queen."
"I'm sorry," she repeated, steadying her shallow breath. "Cake?" she asked, offering him a scoop.
He looked down at the fork, a drip of chocolate falling from the prongs to the plate. "Alright, but you have to let me feed you a bite too."
"Why?" she asked, her doe brown eyes wide with playful astonisment.
"Because I take delight in making you blush," he answered with all seriousness. "Deal?"
She chewed on that a moment, biting her lower lip. "You'll forgive the rice comment?"
"Like it never happened."
She pursed her lips before straightening her spine and lifting the fork. He bent down, opening his mouth for her before she hesitated, lowering it again.
"Wouldn't it be bad luck? Feeding each other cake before the wedding?"
He blinked, flabbergasted that she'd been the one to think of that rather than him. Considering, he squeezed her waist comfortingly, "It's technically torte, not cake." She snorted, which quickly tumbled into a giggle. He grinned, enjoying the beautiful sound, "Besides, we can call it practice."
"Why do I let you talk me into things?" she mused, offering him the fork again.
"Because I'm charming and charismatic," he grinned, opening his mouth for her again. She shook her head, a smile still playing at her lips as she carefully fed him.
He hummed, processing the bitter sweet chocolate. His eyes widened as he realized he actually liked it. As he looked down at the plate, Riza snipped, "If you want more, ask the kitchen for your own."
Swallowing, he let her go so he could gently take the fork and plate from her. "I should have given it a chance earlier," he conceded, scooping up another bite.
He offered the fork to her, her cheeks coloring pink. "This is embarrassing," she protested weakly.
He snickered, pleased to see her colored cheeks. "One bite and I'll drop it until our wedding."
She averted her gaze as she opened up so he could carefully slip the fork into her mouth. Her pretty lips closed around it and he pulled it back, heat stirring in his blood again with the memory of her sucking his dick earlier that week.
He hastily set the fork down on the plate as an aroused heat flooded his skin, traveling down to his groin. Clearing his throat, he pressed it back into her hands. "There, all done," he declared. "You can go back to eating as normal."
She smirked, shaking her head lightly as she scooped up another bite. "I'm glad we came to Central. Talking with Gracia was a good idea. Those books she gave me will help."
"I'm glad. I had a feeling you would need a confidant who knew what you were going through. And I don't know of any other mutual, trusted acquaintances who have been pregnant before."
"She was a good choice. I'm sorry I was so awkward during the visit. I really am okay with her knowing. And where she offered to go with me to doctor appointments…"
"I'd hate to not be there," he rushed, determination settling in his belly. "I told you, I should be held responsible if you are pregnant."
"I mean…" Riza brushed a wild strand of hair behind her ear, looking uncomfortable, "Marcoh is in Ishval and Knox is in Central. I'm not thrilled by the idea of having to travel really far to visit either."
Blessedly, his length began relaxing, helping him release the tension between his shoulders. "Knox has more freedom to travel- but he also has the worst bedside manner ever," he joked, trying to set her at ease as he wrapped his arm around her waist again.
"I'd rather go to someone local," she confided, cutting the last bit of torte in two. "Someone who can help me through the entire process. I mean- what if I go into labor and Knox is five hours away by train," she rolled her eyes, lifting the fork to her mouth.
He paused, considering as she chewed. "Okay. What if you go as Elizabeth so I can still go with you?"
Covering her mouth, she countered, "Any self respecting doctor will ask for my medical record, and I'm not too keen on forging an entire medical history."
"I suppose I can ask Chris if there are any gynecologists she trusts. I think she insists that the girls get checked regularly, but I don't know." The idea of asking Chris made him wince, grimacing at the thought of her furry when she found out why he wanted to know.
"Sir?" she asked, clear concern in her eyes as her hand found his knee over the blanket.
"I'm fine," he rushed, rubbing her back comfortingly. "I just… If you're pregnant, I'm a bit scared to admit to Chrissy that I knocked you up. I'm pretty sure she'd mutilate me at the least."
She set her fork down and lifted her hand to brush his jaw against the grain of his scruff, a zing running through his skin with her touch. "I wouldn't let her," she whispered.
He chuckled, affection rising in his chest. He took her hand, kissing the back of her knuckles. "What? Do you like my body the way it is?"
She withdrew her hand, turning back to her plate. "So what if I do? You're mine and I'm yours. It's not like I'm lusting after some married man or…"
"Or?" he prompted, crooking an eyebrow as she scooped up the last bite.
"Well, I was going to say Superior Officer, but…" He burst out laughing, tears pricking his eyes as she shook her head, dragging the fork across her tongue. "Oh, hush, you. Just in case there's a servant in the hall."
He struggled to quiet himself, grinning winningly as he squeezed her waist, ducking his mouth against her ear. "My God, Riza, I love you!" he whispered, kissing her silver stud.
She dipped her chin, blushing prettily. "I'm rather fond of you myself." Pulling back, he smiled down at her as she shyly met his gaze. "I told my grandfather I loved him for the first time tonight. It only took- twelve years?"
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't tell Chrissy I love her every day."
She smiled weakly, turning to set her plate on her crowded nightstand, hesitating with where to put it. "When he came by, he wanted to continue our conversation from dinner."
"I can take that," Roy offered gently, brushing her shoulder and down her sleeve covered bicep. She relaxed, turning back to pass him the empty plate. He pushed his way out of the sheets, crossing over to the rolling table and hiding the plate under the dish cover. "The 'good news' conversation?" he prompted, glancing back at her.
She had grabbed the wine glass, reclining more against the pile of pillows behind her. "Yes," she breathed, taking a sip. "I want to tell him. I do."
"What stopped you?" he asked, careful to keep his voice gentle, and cautious because they were in Riza's 'wants' territory.
Lowering her glass to rest on her stomach, she grimaced, "I didn't want him to find out like Chris did: walking in on us while we were being intimate. I feel so exposed and vulnerable like this. I couldn't- I couldn't let him see me this way. No matter how much he's said he approves of us, what if he saw us together and changed his mind?"
"I don't think he's that fickle," he reassured gently, returning to bed and climbing back in. "Besides, he's been making those comments since the end of the War. Yes, most of those were said jokingly or in passing, but at the Gala he sounded very serious."
"But I didn't hear it. Roy, I trust you. I trust you more than I trust myself. But for this? It's one of those things I have to hear for myself," she explained, shaking her head softly.
Settling at her level on his hip, he reached over, brushing her bangs back lightly. "So, when do you want to tell him? Before we leave, or when we come back next month?"
She stared at her wine, Roy recognizing the gears turning in her head. She quietly lifted the glass, taking a long draw from it. He reached up, putting a finger on the glass's base and gently pushing it down. "Not too much, Love," he breathed.
She sighed, complying with his prompt and setting it aside on the nightstand again. She rolled towards him, settling down with her hands under her cheek. "I'd like to tell him tomorrow. I just don't know if I'll be given the opportunity."
He caressed her cheekbone comfortingly. "Then make the opportunity. You're far from powerless, Major. Especially here."
She chuckled softly, scooting closer. "You are observant, aren't you?"
"Well, I can't say I've progressed through the ranks with hard work alone," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush with him. "I understand why you didn't like the- footman touching you, but why did some of the servants and Ms. Kent look so nervous about it?"
She grimaced in shame, her leg wrapping over his hip, pulling their lower bodies closer and their pelvises together. "I pulled a gun on a footman on my first visit back after we began the Ishval restoration- and a chauffeur the following day. Mrs. Kent and Mr. Jefferson quickly made it a house rule that no one should touch me. If I need help with my hair or makeup for an event, Mrs. Kent assists me personally."
He frowned slightly, rubbing the fluffy fabric covering her back. "Are… If everything works out, and I become Fuhrer, are you going to be alright being First Lady? Living here and all of that?"
She absently rubbed his clavicle, glancing down before quickly meeting his gaze again. "I think so. The staff gets better every time I come. First it was the bath, then the bubbles, then the wine, then the candles. I know it sounds silly, but the ritual really calms me down. I feel bad that I didn't feel up to participating in it today."
"A bubble bath calms you down that much?" he asked, his eyes absently dropping down to her lips. They lacked the raspberry pink gloss from earlier that day, but the wine had stained them a darker red than natural.
Her cheeks flushed yet again, her eyes evading his. "Well, baths in Ishval weren't a thing, and the wine would help me relax enough that…"
"You mentioned that," he filled in warmly when she trailed off. "Tell me about it?"
"The first few times I didn't do it. I was uncomfortable and the bed was big and the room was far too fancy. But once I got it started, I began doing it every time I came here."
A heat flooded his back and belly, a familiar rush making his length begin to push against her. "Every time?" he asked, his voice dropping huskily.
Her blush darkened as she half hid her face in the pillows. "I asked for the bubbles and wine innocently enough. Bubble baths remind me of Mother and the wine here is always so good."
He hummed softly, gently dragging a hand to the tie of her robe, playing with it absently, testing her boundaries. "Go on."
"That first night with the wine- I started thinking about how you'd live here one day. Fuhrer Mustang and all. Then I wondered if there would be situations where you would have me stay the night- if not ask me to live here as your round the clock security.
"About the third glass of wine I started imagining us- having a secret affair. You'd sneak into my room and make love to me." He pulled the tie of her robe loose, not breaking eye contact as he pushed his hand inside, caressing her waist. She glanced down, quickly meeting his gaze again as her breath grew more shallow. "The next time I came, I asked for the candles. As many candles as they could find."
He gently rolled them over so she was under him, his knees between her thighs as she held his biceps. "Why?" he scratched out around the lump in his throat as he pushed her robe open properly, glancing down at her matching bra and panties.
"The fire. I'd picture you lighting them and bringing me the wine," she whispered, shifting her hips under him, opening her legs wider.
He hummed, leaning down and kissing her neck. He dusted his fingers across her belly and up to her breasts, gently fingering the beading over her mounds. Trailing kisses along her jaw to her ear, he paused, letting his lips brush against the crest of her ear. "Do we need candles at home?"
Her breath rushed against his neck, her hands twitching on his arms. "I'd like that, Fuhrer."
He inhaled a slight hiss with the title. Was it arousing? Or did it set him on edge? It was somewhere in between as he moved a hand to her jaw, thumbing her bottom lip. He pulled back, meeting her eyes. "Let's- not go there yet. I'd rather not disrespect your grandfather and avoid jinxing myself. Besides, I like hearing you cry my name while I'm in you."
She blushed, sliding a hand down to rest over his heart. "You would," she murmured cheekily.
He chuckled lightly, digging his hands behind her shoulder blades, fighting the clasps of her bra. "Would you like to play a bit?"
"I'll come really fast, Roy," she breathed, pushing herself up a few inches on her elbows so he could move his hands more freely, making quick work of the clasps.
Gliding it off of her arms, he tossed it aside, "That's not the point. I'm going to make love to you, not hit a climax and run."
She smiled weakly, her hands gliding down to play with his waistband. "Then why are you asking?"
"Because I want you to have some control in the bedroom." Still, with that kind of answer, he dipped a hand down, rubbing her area. The lace was soaked and his touch made her gasp, clutching to his hips as her eyelids grew heavy. "Shit," he breathed, looking down as he pressed against her, heat flooding his veins. His cock throbbed against his boxers with desire, his lungs constricting excitedly.
She moaned, squirming under him as her hips bucked against his hand. "Shh," he breathed, caressing her with a rhythm as he bent down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. She didn't exactly kiss him back, but his mouth muffled her next moan as she coiled her arms around him, dragging her fingers across his back. He deepened their kiss, pushing his fingers against the lace and into her, the fabric restraining him. She cried out, her head knocking back and breaking their mouths apart. Abandoning his pursuit of her mouth for the moment, he pulled back, looking down at her soaked panties.
"How do you want me, Riza?" he growled lowly, slipping his fingers under her waistband and tugging her underwear down her glorious thighs. Her core glistened as he exposed her, holding his attention as he moved down and pulled her underwear free of her ankles, flinging it aside. He lifted his eyes, drinking in the sight of her naked curves and plump breasts.
He met her eyes, her cheeks were a flushed pink, her breath quick and shallow. "What are my options?" she asked, pushing herself up to grab at his waistband.
He tensed, his wet hand falling to her hip as she tugged the cloth across his length, releasing him from his restraint. "Anything," he breathed, gently lifting her chin with the tips of his fingers. "Slow or fast. Hard or tender. Deep or shallow. I can give you oral, or we can do a different position. Whatever you want."
She slid her hands up his torso, her eyelids heavy as she drew closer, her gaze falling to his mouth. "Well, if I said I wanted it all, we wouldn't be able to keep it up."
"I plan on loving you the rest of our lives. We'd get it done eventually," he breathed, far too aware of her still watching his lips. "The question is, what do you want tonight? This is to be the fulfillment of your plethora of sexual fantasies in this very room. I'm here. I'm yours, my Queen. Let me worship you."
Her eyes shot up to his again, widening. "Roy…" she gasped.
He tilted her chin up with his thumb, brushing his lips against hers, his skin tingling where they touched. He could taste the chocolate clinging to her lips, and smell the heady wine on her breath.
He didn't mean to, it just sort of happened. His tongue slipped between her parted lips, probing against hers in the heat of her mouth. But with it in her, his heart began to thunder against his eardrums.
He embraced her suddenly, digging a hand into the back of her hair, supporting her neck as he wildly thrust his tongue against hers, exploring every crevice inside her mouth. A deep moan rose up in his throat as she slid her arms around his neck, meeting his tongue and moaning in return.
He shoved her back to the bed under him, a hazy heat flooding his mind as his erection slid against her soaked folds. She writhed under him as fire roared through his manhood, her fingers digging into the back of his hair and pulling roughly. He slipped his hands across her shoulder blades, dropping one to the mattress for support as he ran the other to her neck, brushing her throat with his thumb.
Seeking the flames, he pressed his hips against hers, rutting across her entrance and clit, euphoria tangling in his blood, body, and brain with their wet friction. He groaned, thrusting against her harder until the tip of his cock caught on the edge of her entrance, plunging inside her.
Their mouths ripped apart as she cried out, her walls pulsing around his length as he hastily pulled out, panicking. Wet, hot, tight. He didn't properly process the glorious sensations of her womanhood until he'd slipped out and all that was left was a cold draft on his damp shaft.
"Roy!" she cried, writhing desperately under him.
Oh god, she was climaxing! He hastily shoved three fingers into her, panting as he thrust them roughly into her burning pussy, thumbing her clit.
The edges of her eyes crinkled in distress as she groaned under him, her face turning away. "Stop," she whimpered, her fists curled into the sheets below her.
He pulled his hand from her instantly, anxiety replacing arousal in the driving force of his thundering heartbeat. He rushed to dust kisses along her cheek and jaw, rasping out between kisses, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to," while wrapping his arms around her middle.
She shuddered, lightly pushing at his chest with both palms. He heeded her silent protest, letting her go and climbing off of her. On his hands and knees beside her, he tugged his boxers back up from his knees, hiding his offending sex as she caught her breath, tears on the edges of her clenched eyelids.
"Riza, I am so sorry," he repeated, desperate to hear her response.
She finally opened her eyes, looking up at him briefly. She quickly looked away, shoving a hand through her bangs as she pushed herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him.
"I need a shower," she announced gruffly.
"Ri?"
She stood up unsteadily, not looking back as she moved towards the bathroom. "I'm not mad. I just… I need space. Good night, Roy."
"Riza?"
She grabbed the bathroom door, closing it behind her with a soft snap.
Alone, he slumped, landing on his bum. Digging his hands into his hair, he sat there, elbows on his knees as his mind rushed through the last few minutes. With every pound of his heart, a single word thundered in the back of his mind over and over: Condom. Condom. Condom.
He'd been in her less than two seconds, and despite his certainty he hadn't left anything in her, he felt sick because of his negligence.
Distantly, he could hear the shower turn on, and he knew he'd outstayed his welcome.
Climbing out, he numbly began making the bed, tucking in the sheets and trying to mimic the way they'd been turned down before they'd climbed in. He picked up her discarded lingerie and bathrobe, leaving them laying neatly at the foot of the bed. He returned her Glock to its place under her pillow, and set her pajamas and fresh underwear out for her.
Rounding the bed, his eyes landed on a stack of stationary style memo cards sitting on the corner of her vanity. The water was still running in the shower, so he crossed over, grabbing the pen and one of the cards.
Elizabeth, I'm so sorry. If you need me or want to talk about what happened, please just knock. With my love, James.
Leaving the note on top of the sheets, he collected his clothes and returned to his room, transmuting the door back into a wall behind him.
Sunday, October 6, 1918
Morning was not Riza's friend. As Ellen politely woke her up, she was greeted by bright light and a pounding headache. It had been a mistake drinking the entire bottle of wine last night. She'd never done that before, and she'd face the consequences for the next few hours at least.
"It's raining today, m'lady," Ellen informed her as she went about making the bed. Great. Roy would be thrilled.
In the closet, she grumpily chose an outfit: a practical, cream colored button up and a knitted, baby blue sweater with a wide, shawl style collar. She selected an equally practical, high waisted, navy skirt that ruffled slightly around her mid calves.
Checking herself in the mirror, the bags under her eyes looked ghastly, her skin pale and eyes tired. "Ellen, I'd like a hair clip. Do I have one?"
"Yes, m'lady. In your vanity. Would you like me to ring for Mrs. Kent to assist you?"
"No," she answered shortly, moving there and setting about making herself somewhat presentable.
Falling back to her old hawk's tail bun, she tried remembering some of Rebecca's tricks to cover up baggy eyes and liven her face up. When she was done, she was halfway pleased that she looked normal, save for a little darkness under her eyes and a slightly powdered look to her cheeks.
Collecting her things (which had scattered across the room during her short stay), she snatched the eggplant pajamas, adding them to her bag. "Thank you, Ellen. Apologize to those involved that I didn't make use of the bath last night. I would still appreciate it next time I visit."
"And a second bottle of wine, ma'am?" Ellen asked, holding the empty bottle which she'd left on the nightstand.
Riza paused with her hand on the doorknob, her bag held at her shoulder. "No. One was plenty, if not too much. Perhaps, next time limit me to three glasses for the evening. Five has left me- a bit hungover."
Ellen grimaced, "My sympathies, m'lady."
"Well, it's my own fault for not moderating myself," she replied before opening the door.
She halted at the sight of Roy, dressed for the day in a navy, pinstripe vest and dress pants, his face freshly shaven. He stood before her door as if he'd intended to knock. At the sight of her he paused though, offering a polite smile, a worried strain to his eyes. "Good morning, Major. I was told breakfast was at 0830, and thought we might go down together."
An awkward tension stood between them and she did her best to push past it. It wasn't like he'd meant to abandon her mid orgasm and leave her body partially shocked and terribly unsatisfied. Accidents happened and she was certain they weren't the only pair who'd messed up halfway through making love.
Roy had done the smart thing by pulling out when he did- she just would have chosen differently, as ashamed as she was to admit it.
"That's an excellent idea, Sir. I was just about to go to the dining room myself."
He glanced at her bag, gesturing to it hesitantly. "With that?"
"I wasn't sure when we were leaving, Sir. I also didn't bring a holster."
"Ah! Right. So, when do you want to leave?" he asked, fidgeting by pulling his vest flat and checking the buttons. The silver of his cufflinks caught her eye with the motion.
"Sooner rather than later. I know Grandfather will want to spend time with me, but he has duties to Amestris I'd rather not encourage him to neglect."
He nodded with a strained smile. "Let me go grab my own bag and I'll be right back."
"Of course, Sir," she agreed. As he ducked left, quickly returning to his room, she stepped out, softly closing the door behind her. She loitered in the hall for him, a cool draft making her grateful for the thicker fabric of her sweater and skirt.
He only made her wait a minute before he was briskly walking towards her, his bag in hand. She smiled weakly at him before lazily making her way down the hall. As he caught up to her, he slowed to her pace, walking directly to her right. "I don't remember the departure times from Central, but we can easily make it to anything after 0930," Roy commented as she sped up her pace to a walk.
"Whatever works, Sir. There's no real reason to rush other than limiting our distraction to the Fuhrer."
"Is there anything else you'd like to do in Central while we're here, Major?"
Riza shook her head lightly. "I can't think of anything. All my friends are in East City and I'll be back here before I have the chance to miss it. Though, would you be interested in visiting your aunt's bar while in town?"
"I have no reason to, and it's not a place I'm fond of taking a lady to."
She smirked, glancing sideways at him. "I'm glad you're aware of my gender, Sir. In the Military I wonder if and sometimes hope that my comrades forget."
He met her gaze, "I am very aware," he breathed, his eyes flickering to her lips briefly. "Are you- alright? I was so worried…"
"I'm fine, Sir. I just needed space after it happened. No real harm done." The crinkle to his brow and frown on his lips bespoke his hesitance. His midnight eyes lingered on her, desperately trying to read her. She glanced behind them to make sure they were alone before whispering, "Please, Roy, it is forgiven and forgotten."
"What's forgotten? Not breakfast, I hope," Grumman's bright voice cut in. Riza started a little, turning to see her grandfather step into the hall with them from behind a tapestry, wearing a surprisingly casual gray suit.
"Where did you come from?" she demanded, clutching her bag closer to herself.
"A servant's staircase. They're hidden all over the place and I use them as shortcuts. Good morning Mustang, I hope you slept well," he smiled, offering a hand to Roy.
"Well enough for sleeping in a strange bed," Roy smiled, accepting his hand.
Grumman glanced between them and their luggage, his smile dropping. "You already have your bags?"
"Yes, Grandfather. We were planning to leave for the station after breakfast," Riza answered, her head throbbing as she shifted said bag from one hand to the other.
"I'll be terribly sorry to see you go."
Riza forced a smile, "And I'd feel guilty for keeping you from your work longer than is necessary. We'll be back next month."
Grumman stepped between them, dropping a hand to her elbow and prompting her to walk with him. He quickly removed his hand when she followed him, Roy on his other side. "Well, then you must come a few days early, or stay a few days after. I've been eager to spend more time with you, my dear, and I won't have you slip away like a thief every time you come to stay the night."
"I'm sorry, that's not the impression I meant to give. I just knew our visit was unplanned and you're a very busy man."
Grumman hummed absently as they approached the dining room's double doors. "You'll let me see you off at the station, surely?"
"Is that really wise?" Riza countered as a footman opened the door for them, Grumman letting her step in first. The dining table was set simply compared to last night, the dishes suggesting a single course.
"To see my only grandchild off on the train? Most men would say that would be very wise," he smiled.
She stepped up to the table, Grumman helping her with her chair again. "I'm referring to your personal security. If you can worry about my safety, I can worry about yours."
"Oh, very well. I'll see you off in the car, then," he dismissed as he and Roy settled in their seats. "Jefferson, you'll send someone to arrange for a first class cab for their return to East City today."
"We don't need first class," Riza insisted quickly.
"I'm sending you with two bodyguards, just for the journey. I assume the privacy of your own compartment would be appreciated," Grumman informed, waving for Jefferson to go ahead.
He stepped out briefly as the footmen began serving them. They offered coffee, tea, juice, and milk, a bowl of mixed fruit, a plate with a steaming biscuit, and a rather delightful looking dish with arugula decorating the plate. By the time they'd laid breakfast out, Jefferson had returned.
"What's on the menu this morning?" Roy asked with a smile as a footman poured his coffee.
"Potato rosti with smoked salmon," Jefferson answered instantly. The rosti and salmon were topped with a poached egg and golden cream sauce. As Riza took a bite, the flavors melted deliciously in her mouth.
"So, do you have a preference, my dear?" Grumman asked, smearing jam on his biscuit.
She looked up at him, swallowing. "For what?"
"Would you prefer to come early or stay after for my birthday celebration?"
She set her fork down, glancing at Roy, who'd tucked into his meal. "I'd hate to inconvenience General Mustang either way. I'm needed in East City as his assistant."
"Nonsense. Every soldier needs leave, even if it's just from office work. You and I are not excluded from that. Don't you agree, Mustang?"
Roy glanced up, looking hastily between them. "I..."
"I have leave planned, Sir," she interrupted, her attention on Grumman.
"Oh? Tell me about it?" Grumman requested, folding his hands in his lap.
"I- have a wedding I've been invited to. I'll be in the wedding party and helping with arrangements," she explained, fumbling for a moment but quickly catching herself. "It'll be over Winter Solstice, so I apologize I won't be visiting for the holiday."
"Sounds like work," Grumman mumbled, turning back to his food and picking up his fork. "Would you be able to come by for New Years instead?"
"I don't know yet. Though, I will definitely consider it."
"Who's getting married? Do I know them?"
"Fullmetal," Roy answered for her. "He'll be marrying his childhood sweetheart."
"How delightful!" Grumman grinned. "It gives hope for us all, doesn't it?"
"Are you sweet on someone, Sir?" Roy smiled coyly.
"Oh, no. I couldn't. Not after losing Sarah. She was the love of my life and I wouldn't dream of trying to replace her."
She smiled softly to hear such devotion to a woman nearly fifteen years gone, but it quickly vanished. If she were to tell Grumman, she would need Jefferson and the footmen gone, but they were loitering about the dining room as if they were still needed, despite breakfast having been served.
'...Make the opportunity,' Roy's suggestion from last night floated in the back of her mind.
"Two extra days, Riza. I can insist that Mustang stay for that time as well if it will encourage you to stay," Grumman inserted, interrupting her thoughts.
Glancing at Roy, he gave no reaction to Grumman using him as a bargaining chip, taking a bite of his jam-covered biscuit. "I have a feeling you'll get your way no matter what. Alright, I'll come the day of and stay an extra two days. I'd rather not dread the party longer than I have to."
"I'd be honored to have a chess game or two while I stay, Sir," Roy added with a suave smile, clearly pleased.
The rain drizzled on the gravel, the hazy gray light of the blocked sun making the driveway almost gloomy. The footman who'd brushed her arm the night before carefully handed her and Mustang their own umbrellas, already open to block the rain.
"I'm afraid we brought the rain with us from East City," Roy joked with Grumman as he was given his own umbrella and they walked out.
"Like you can control the weather. I'll be glad to see you when you come back."
"That's always nice to know," Roy grinned.
Riza shifted her umbrella to her other hand, reaching out and gently grabbing Grumman's elbow. "General, do you mind if I steal a private word with my grandfather before we leave?"
Roy's keen eyes flashed to her. "Not at all. I'll be in the car."
He made his way to the waiting vehicle as Grumman nodded to the side. "Let's get a little distance," he whispered, guiding her a few yards away from staff and bodyguards, their backs to them for privacy. He glanced back to make sure they were alone before turning to her. "Yes, my dear?" he prompted softly.
"I meant to tell you during dessert last night. And I'm sorry I didn't feel comfortable telling you when you dropped by."
"I understand, I was interrupting your evening routine," he dismissed.
"That's not it," she whispered, adjusting her bag from the crook of her elbow to her shoulder. "After returning to East City from Ishval, General Mustang helped me when my housing arrangements fell through. I'm not really living with Rebecca- well, I'm staying with her while Chris recovers, but I'm actually living with Roy right now."
"Roy?" Grumman's eyebrows shot up, his voice creaking hoarsely.
"He- he's told me you've been suggesting our marriage for nearly a decade. Is that true?"
He didn't respond for a long moment, his round spectacle making it difficult to see his eyes. Finally, he breathed, "Yes."
"Then you'll be happy to hear we're- together now. Of course I'm telling you this as my grandfather, not…"
"I won't say a word," he breathed, a soft smile playing under his mustache. "Are you happy?"
She paused, taken aback and not sure if she'd considered it properly. Last night's incident hovered in her thoughts and she quickly pushed it away. "It's- hard- keeping it a secret. And- stressful, worrying about people finding out and the blackmail."
"Blackmail?"
"The whole incident with Chris had to do with one of the girls trying to blackmail Roy. She had quite a bit of photographic evidence and we don't know if she gave it to anyone. We've destroyed the film and the copies we've been able to find, though. Roy's also worried that Hakuro is trying to find something on him."
He gently took her elbow, his thumb rubbing her comfortingly. "I'd be worried about Hakuro too." He glanced back, a serious furrow to his eyebrows. "Are you happy, though?"
"I wouldn't change my decision," she answered, unable to commit to the 'happy' label. "I would do it again in a heartbeat."
"Riza…" he pressed, squeezing her arm.
She hastily withdrew her arm, rubbing away the sensation. "I'm not happy with my situation. But then I chose it, and I'm going to see it through until Roy is Fuhrer." She met his gaze, guilt flooding her. "I don't mean for you to rush your timeline. You're Fuhrer and you deserve it. It's our fault if we mess up now." He opened his mouth to speak, but she rushed over him, "I should go. We've taken enough time. People will start to wonder, and we might miss the train."
"Riza, this is important," he stopped her, an urgency to his whisper. "I'm halfway through a policy change and I'm just waiting for the Military Council to approve of it. It's the last thing I want to do before retiring. If you could just hold on until that's done, you'll be in the clear."
"Yes, Sir," she replied.
He nodded with a strained smile, "Right."
She inhaled. Stepping closer, she rested her free hand on his shoulder, dusting a kiss on his weathered cheek. Pulling back, she took a few backwards steps towards the car. "Goodbye Grandfather."
Stunned, he raises a hand to his kissed cheek, a giddy grin slowly growing on his face. "Travel safe, my dear one."
She nodded, smiling shyly before turning on him and quickly crossing to the car. A footman opened the door, carefully taking the umbrella for her as she sat down inside. With the door closed, she settled inside, placing her bag between her and Roy.
"Everything alright?" he asked casually.
She smiled softly to him, "Yes. You were right, Sir. Thank you."
She looked back as the chauffeur began driving away, watching her grandfather. He offered a departing wave and she returned with a shy one of her own.