The one positive thing about being quarantined due to Covid-19 is that I'm able to spit out chapters to stories every day or two, because I'm not working, have zero kids, and have nothing better to do.

The first few weeks Roy was gone had Riza in a slump. She was out of school, so she couldn't leave the house or talk to Jane, and Roy wasn't there anymore, so she only had her Father to conversate with.

Who was about as talkative as the wallpaper in his study.

So her only companions at the Hawkeye Manor were the six chickens it took her a month and a half to convince her Father to get, saying they'd save a lot of money on eggs, seeing as the general store charged the same amount of money for a dozen eggs that Farmer Greyson was for six female chicks.

Of course she didn't tell her Father that the fair price on the chickens was because she agreed to tutor Farmer Greyson's granddaughter Lilah in math, but that didn't matter.

"Hello ladies." Riza said glumly, tossing them food, that they gladly pecked at, while she went to the coop to gather eggs.

Six brown eggs, the same amount she was able to get every afternoon.

This was her life now. Fourteen years old and the wife of a solider. Most would think being married to a solider would be exciting. And yet, she was more bored and lonely now then ever before.

Maybe she should've considered Roy's request to go to Central to live with his family while he was gone? At least then she'd have someone to talk to, even if they'd all be strangers.

But it was too late for that. Their little accident the morning after their wedding hadn't produced Roy an heir, so she had no excuse to go to Central. Besides, her Father needed her.

He wouldn't last a week without her.

The thought of having children scared her. It wasn't that Riza didn't want any children- she did. She wasn't kidding when she told Roy she wanted lots of babies. She was scared about what their future family would be like. Would she be able to make society view her as a proper wife, and give him a lot of sons? Or would she be like her Mother, and struggle to produce one daughter? She knew Roy didn't care about the genders of their offspring. He told her that himself, he'd be happy either way.

But the rest of the country wasn't like Roy.

Most of them- especially the generations older then her and Roy's- viewed women as property, first to their Fathers and then to their Husbands. Their value wasn't in brains or brawn. It was in how many male heirs she succeeded in giving her husband. A woman with a poor husband and all sons was better accomplished then a woman with a rich husband and all daughters.

And a woman who died delivering a son was mourned greater then a woman who died delivering a daughter.

What a truly disgusting society we live in.

Roy was gone for a month when she received his first letter.

Hearing from him made her heart sing, since while he did get a five minute phone call every other Thursday, no one was able to make a phone call for the first six months. The only reason why letters were allowed from the beginning was for in case a member of their family died while they were away.

After receiving the letter from the postman, she slipped it into her apron pocket, and continued her daily chores. She'd be able to read it later, after her Father had gone to sleep and she didn't have housework to do.

So with the letter tucked away safely, she swept and mopped the kitchen, did a load of dishes, gathered the eggs, dusted the furniture, made her Father dinner and a cup of tea, and put the chickens away in their coop, triple checking that all six were away and that the coop was locked up tightly so foxes or raccoons couldn't get to them.

Once all of those things were completed, and she made sure her Father didn't want or need anything, she quietly went to her and Roy's bedroom (just hers since he was gone) and locked the door. Letting out a happy sigh, she pulled the letter out of her pocket and tore it open.

Riza,

How are things going there since I've been gone? I doubt your Father has given you much conversation, and for that I'm sorry.

I won't sugar coat it: Boot Camp is grueling. It's been two weeks and I'm just now getting the chance to write you. Hopefully it won't take too long for you to get this.
I've already met someone I dislike. His name is Maes Hughes. He stole my spinach quiche. The food here is disgusting, and the quiche is the only thing that can be considered decent. And when I was reaching out to grab the LAST ONE, he swooped in and took it. Bastard.

I miss you, darling. I mean, I knew I would miss you. I just never realized how much. It's going to be a very long two years Riza. This really sucks. But hey, five and a half more months and I'll be able to hear your voice. I look forward to being able to speak to you, even if it isn't face to face.

I have to go now. I love you so much.

Yours, Roy

Riza smiled at the letter. He missed her, just as much as she missed him. The feeling that it gave her was nice. Riza took his letter and hid it in the secret compartment where they had hidden the condoms. She didn't think her Father would take his letters, seeing as Roy was her husband, but she didn't want to risk it.
Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil, she began to write a letter of her own.

Roy,

I'm sorry Boot Camp is so tough, but it makes sense. Soldiers are supposed to be tough and strong.

As for your letter, it got here on Saturday, November 1st. Assuming that the two week travel period is a normal occurrence and not a one time thing, you should be hopefully getting this letter by no later then December 4th or 5th, seeing as mail doesn't run on Sunday.

I miss you too. It's so boring here. My Father hasn't spoken to me much, which I suppose is better then him being outwardly cruel to me. Since you only get a phone call every two weeks, perhaps it would be fair to your Aunt and sisters to call them every other time. They deserve to hear your voice too.

I'm sorry that that Maes fellow stole your quiche, even though I don't exactly know what that is. I mean, I know it's food, obviously. But that's as far as my knowledge of it goes. Personally, assuming that I'm pronouncing the word in my head correctly, it sounds like the sound you make when you're going to throw up.

I wish I had more to write to you, but my life lately has been as bland as yours has been hectic. I love you so much.

Yours, Riza

She folded up the paper, put it in an envelope, wrote the address for the base camp Roy had sent his letter from, and carefully hid it away so hat it wouldn't get lost or damaged, and waited for when Monday came and she'd be able to mail it to him.

Roy read her letter with a smile on his face. True to her prediction, it arrived for him on December 3rd, three months to the day after they got married.

He mentally laughed when he got to the quiche part. She was so adorable. Even if their marriage didn't begin in a conventional way, he was so lucky to have her.

"Yo Mustang, we're heading into town to the local pub, maybe pick up a chick or two. Care to join?"

Roy looked up to see a few of his fellow cadets standing in front of him. He could see Maes Hughes standing in the back, slightly off to the side, almost as if he didn't really want to join in on the fun.

The one that spoke, Dodson if he remembered his name correctly, had a huge smirk on his face.

"No thank you. I don't pick up chicks." Roy responded, folding up Riza's letter and shoving it into his pocket.

"What are you, gay?" Another man, Broderick, asked.

"No..." Roy started, sending a glare to the group. "I'm not gay, I just have better things to do with my time and energy then to cheat on my wife."

"You're married?" The group, save for Maes, all yelped in shock. The looks they all had told Roy that they didn't believe him.

Roy pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, holding them up by the chain, allowing them to see the thin gold band he'd slipped on to the chain.

"Alright Mustang!" Maes cheered.

"Whatever. Let us know if you change your mind. What your girl doesn't know won't hurt her." Dodson scoffed, turning to walk away, Broderick and the others following.

Maes was the only one that stayed.

"How come you've never mentioned being married before?" He asked Roy, sitting on the bottom bunk across from him.

"Because it's still new, and we got married under... certain circumstances." Roy sighed, taking a sip from his water.

"Did you knock her up?"

Cue water being spat everywhere.

"Not those circumstances!" He yelped.

"Okay so why'd you get married?" Maes asked, sounding serious.

Roy let out a sigh, sitting up in his bunk. "Before I tell you anything, you need to not freak out. About anything. Understood?"

"I understand." Maes promised, holding his hand up. "Now start, I won't say a thing until you're done."

"She's... younger then me. Then us. Her Father was my Alchemy teacher. I lived with them from the time I was fourteen, to when I came here two months ago. Back in late July, he decided that it was time for her to get married. Which, is apparently completely normal in her backwater hometown. So for the next month, scum after scum would show up while she was at school. All of them older then us. Most of them were in their thirties. They talked about her like she was livestock. It was wrong. So one day I told my Teacher what I thought of the situation, how it was cruel to her. And keep in mind that he's always been a complete asshole to her. Wanna know what his response was?" Roy scoffed.

"What?"

"If you want her, take her. So I did. I decided that being married to me, someone she's known for four years, was better then being married to a stranger that's nearly forty. He told me that on August 30th and we got married September 3rd." He sighed.

"Jesus Christ, man. Are you at least happy?"

"Very. I never thought I'd be this happy this soon. But damn do I miss her." Roy whined.

"If you don't mind me asking, how old is she? You said she's younger then us, and we're only eighteen."

Roy let out a loud groan, laying back down on his mattress.

"That's the really bad part!"

"It can't be that bad." Maes scoffed.

"She's fourteen."

"Holy shit! She's barely a teenager and her Father married her off? No wonder you were so worried about her if she married a stranger." Maes groaned, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah."

"I gotta give you props for staying faithful. Most of the guys here aren't married, but the ones with girlfriends aren't making an effort to stay true to their girls." He scoffed.

"I had to leave her behind, Hughes, she's still living with her crappy Dad, because he's borderline senile and won't do basic tasks for himself like make him food to eat. She's going to be there, alone, for two years. The least I can do for her is to not screw around behind her back." Roy groaned.

"What about her Mom?"

"Died when she was two. Got really sick. Don't know from what, but from what little I've heard about it, I'm guessing pneumonia."

"Damn. So what's her name?" Maes asked, trying to lighten up the topic.

"Riza. I mean, technically it's Elizabeth, but I learned very early on not to call her that without her say so. So she's Riza to me." He explained.

With that being said, he reached under his mattress and pulled out a photo, handing it to Maes, a smile on his face.

"It's an old photo, we were eleven and fifteen when it was taken, but it's the only picture I've got of her." Roy explained.

Maes stared at the photo, studying it. He recognized Roy almost immediately, the man was probably born with his hair having that messy style. But he studied Riza. She was in a brown overall style dress, a pale yellow sweater, white stockings, and black Mary Janes. She was being held in the air by Roy, who had his arms wrapped around her waist as he stood behind her, kissing her cheek, with a wide smile on her face.

"She's cute." Maes told him, handing back the photo.

"She is. I can't wait to see her again."

Five and a half months after Roy had left, Riza came home from the general store one afternoon to find her Father waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

"F-Father? Is everything alright?" Riza stuttered, righting her hold on the bag of groceries.

"Yes, Everything is fine, Riza. I was curious to know if you'd like to assist me with my research. I could really use your help, it's important." Berthold told her, giving her a small smile.

Help? He wants MY help? Riza couldn't believe it. Her Father wanted to spend time with her. He needed her to help him with his research. Berthold Hawkeye, who almost never gave her the time of day, who yelled at her when she couldn't understand Alchemy when he tried to teach it to her the one and only time at the age of six, needed her. For once, he saw her as being more then just a cook and a maid.

"Oh, okay. Sure. When do we start?" Riza asked, smiling back at him.

"Tonight. After dinner." Berthold answered, giving her a curt nod, before walking back up the stairs.

"See you tonight!" Riza called after him, not realizing that agreeing to his request would be the biggest mistake of her life.

The picture of Roy and Riza was drawn by over on Tumblr. I did not draw it, I will not sit here and claim that I did. Hopefully they don't get upset over me describing it in this story. Here is a (hopefully not broken) link to the picture

post/181912701888/old-sketchie-painted-in-procreate-send-strenght

Please let me know if the link does not work. Thank you.