I am SO SORRY for such a long wait. Life happened (I turned 24 day before Mother's Day) and my muse decided to take a vacation. Please forgive me.

Albert and Matilda Grumman's house made Berthold and Vivian Hawkeye's home look like a shoe box left out in the rain.

It was huge.

"Is their home that big because he's a General?" Riza gasped, jaw dropped.

"I... have no idea... Holy shit." Roy stuttered.

It was very clear to both of them that Vivian had grown up very differently, financially wise, then her daughter did. Riza couldn't even begin to imagine how her Mother had ended up meeting and marrying her Father. Perhaps Mother married for love and not money? Which Riza could understand. While she had had no say in her marriage to Roy, she did love him.

And his paycheck or bank account wasn't anywhere on the list of things she loved about him.

Cautiously, they both walked up the walkway to the front door. Riza sensed Roy's nervousness, and was flabbergasted.

"Why are you nervous?" She gasped.

"He might be your Grandpa, Riza, but he's also my boss. I don't get the luxury of avoiding him like the plague if things turn to shit." Roy grumbled, kissing her cheek as he rung the doorbell. A woman in her thirties, who was clearly a maid based on her outfit, answered the door.

"Hello. May I help you two?" She asked politely.

"Andrea, who is it?" A voice called from inside the house.

"I don't know, Mrs. Grumman." The maid, now known as Andrea, answered.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment." She said, and Roy and Riza heard footsteps as who they now knew to be Riza's maternal grandmother come to the front door.

"Hello, how many I- oh dear Lord, you look just like your Mother." Matilda gasped, locking eyes with Riza, her hand covering her mouth.

Matilda Grumman was an elderly woman, with dark gray hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wore a white silk blouse and maroon floor length skirt, with white silk gloves on her hands. Riza recognized her own eye color in the woman's eyes and wondered if she'd resemble the woman before her fifty years from now.

"Hello ma'am." Riza said politely.

"Ah ah ah." Matilda tsked at her Granddaughter.

"I am your Grandma, you shall address me as such. I will not have my only grandchild referring to me as ma'am." She told her, her words stern but her tone polite.

"You, young man," She said, turning to Roy, "May call me ma'am. Am I clear?" Matilda asked.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Yes Grandma."

"Good. Come inside. Andrea, inform my husband that our Granddaughter and her husband are here."

"Yes Mrs. Grumman." Andrea nodded, quickly walking up the grand staircase.

"Just to ensure I was correct in my statement, you are my only Grandchild, yes?" Matilda asked, leading them to the sitting room.

"I'm my Mother's only child. Father never mentioned any other relatives growing up." Riza spoke.

"Then yes, you are my only Grandchild." Matilda cooed, sitting down in one of the teal velvet chairs. She motioned for her Granddaughter and her husband to sit on the matching loveseat, while they waited for Al to join them.

"Grandma, may I ask you a question?" Riza asked timidly.

"You, my dear, may ask any question about our family that you wish. You have a lot of catching up to do." Matilda informed her.

"How do you guys have such a huge home? Is it because of Grandpa's job?"

While she didn't care about Roy's paycheck- just as long as they were financially better off then she and her Father had been during her childhood- Riza couldn't help but be curious about just how much her Grandpa made at such a high military rank.

"Oh heavens dear. Don't get me wrong, the pay of a Lieutenant General is quite hefty, but no. Most of this comes from family money." Matilda explained.

"We Grumman's are what society calls 'Old money' sweetheart." A gruff voice spoke from the doorway.

Riza turned her head and saw an older man with a large grey mustache and round glasses. He wore a simple dark grey button up, black slacks, and light gray house shoes.

"Hello." Riza said politely, not entirely sure this was her Grandpa.

Based on the nervous gulp she heard from Roy, she figured he was.

"She is the spitting image of our Viv, isn't she Tilda?" Al barked out a laugh, walking over to his wife to kiss her on the cheek.

"She styles her hair differently, but yes, she does." Matilda cooed.

"Now with that all being said, come with me Riza. Let's leave our husbands to chit chat. I have a lot of catching up to do with you." Matilda said, taking Riza's arm and leading her out of the room.

"Hey! Maybe I wanna catch up with her!" Al pouted.

"You work with her husband. You know more about her then I do." Matilda scoffed, waving her hand in a dismissive motion.

"She does know we do things besides discuss our wives, correct?" Roy mumbled lowly.

"I don't think she cares..." Al sighed, as they watched Matilda drag Riza up the stairs.

"Come on my boy, you owe me a game of chess."

Riza trailed behind her Grandma as they walked down the hallway. She couldn't help but study the women as she walked. Everything about Matilda Grumman was different then herself. The older woman walked with confidence; head up, shoulders straight, spine perfect. Meanwhile Riza stared at her feet with her shoulders slouched as she walked.

But that's what going through sixteen years of every type of abuse save for sexual at the hands of your own Father does to you.

It destroys any confidence you should've had growing up.

"Grandma, where are we going?" Riza asked.

"To your Mother's old room..." Matilda replied softly, a small yet sad smile on her face.

"Grandma?"

"Yes?"

"What was my Mother like?" Riza questioned timidly, reminding Matilda that she had been very young when Vivian passed away.

"She was kind and compassionate. Your Grandpa always referred to her as a Spitfire, someone who does not let anyone walk all over them." Matilda explained.

She internally winced, deciding then and there to never mention to her Grandparents that, while she was very young when her Mother passed away, what few memories she had of her consisted of Vivian going "Yes, Berthold." and "Of course, dear." when speaking to her husband and Riza's Father.

Riza would spend the rest of her life wondering why Vivian didn't run back to her parents and her old life long before her birth.

When they got to Vivian's old room, Riza was surprised by its simplicity when compared to the rest of the house. While the majority of the house had large paintings, patterned wallpaper, and large pieces of furniture, her Mother's childhood bedroom didn't have any of that.

There was a large queen sized bed in the center of the back wall, a vanity and chair in front of the large window, a reading knook in the far corner, a desk on the wall opposite the window and vanity, a glass cabinet was next to the door, and a tufted loveseat with a large fur rug was in the center of the room. All the wood on the furniture was white, the upholstery and fabrics were a pale pink velvet, and any hardware that Riza could see was a soft, white gold.

Vivian's room remind Riza of a princess' room in old fairytales.

"Her room is lovely." Riza mumbled softly.

"It is. She decorated it herself. Everything from the paint on the walls to the throw pillows on her bed." Matilda cooed.

"So your Grandfather tells me that Roy was your Father's apprentice in Alchemy?"

"Yes, he was. From the summer of 1899 to when he joined the military two years ago." Riza nodded, as the two went to sit on the loveseat.

"I'm surprised Berthold was okay with having his son-in-law enlist. From what I recall of him, he was very anti military." Matilda said.

"I'm surprised he even let Roy marry me, since he knew of his plans before we even became engaged. Did you ever meet my Father? Before he and my Mother ran off?" Riza questioned.

"Yes. I have invited Berthold's own Mother over for tea a plethora of times."

Excuse me?

"Wait- what? You know my other Grandmother?" Riza gasped.

"Why of course, dear. Despite your Father's... eccentric qualities, he and your Mother had a very similar upbringing." Matilda stated.

The elderly woman could tell by the look of shock on her granddaughter's face that all of this information was new to her.

"You... did not know this? Did you, Riza?"

"No. I didn't. Believe me when I say I did not grow up even close to the way of either of my parents did." Riza sighed.

"How was it different, if you do not mind me asking?"

"Well for starters, the largest room in my childhood home could fit inside my Mother's childhood bedroom with room to spare." Riza scoffed, looking around the room.

"There's also the fact that we didn't always have food on the table, the house- which is now up for sale because I never wish to go back there- is in shambles, and my Father spent the majority of my childhood at best ignoring me and at worse smacking me around- even after I was married." Riza scoffed, clutching the hem of skirt as she stared down at her feet.

"I am... so sorry..." Matilda gasped.

"Don't be. My Father is dead now. He's been rotting in the ground since October, and if Hell exists that's where his soul has been damned to. And despite forcing me to marry at fourteen, I couldn't have asked for a better husband in Roy." Riza gave her a Grandma a genuine smile.

"Roy sounds like a wonderful man." Matilda mused.

"He is. I can't wait to start a family with him."

Riza's words struck a chord in Matilda, and the simple statement had her asking her granddaughter a simple question.

"Riza? Are you... with child?"

Riza's head shot up, her eyes wide with surprise. She let out a shaky breath, before nodding yes to her Grandma, a small smile on her face.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you not say anything to anyone- Grandpa especially. Me and Roy want to wait a few more weeks before we inform anyone about the pregnancy..."

The rest of that sentence, just in case I miscarry, was left unsaid between the two of them.

"Did my Mother have any siblings?"

"Yes. Three older brothers; George, Zachary, and Michael. But they all passed away long before Vivian was ever conceived, much less born." Matilda said solemnly.

"What..." Riza trailed off with a gulp, before continuing with her question "What happened to them?"

"George contacted measles when he was a year and a half old, he didn't live long after that. Sometimes I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Zachary was a stillbirth, and Michael drowned in a fountain in a park when he was three because his nanny wasn't watching him properly." Matilda sighed.

"Michael's death is why I refused to allow anyone to watch or raise Vivian other then myself or your Grandpa- even if it was just for a few hours so we could go to a military function. If I had to go somewhere with her Father, Vivian went with us. No ifs ands or buts about it. Better for a toddler to run around disturbing the peace then for me to have four dead children." Matilda sighed.

"What happened to Michael's nanny?"

"She served ten years in jail for manslaughter and wasn't permitted to be around any children that weren't biologically her own afterwards." Matilda explained.

"Oh."

"So what do you supposed they're up there talking about?" Roy asked about Riza and Matilda, as he stared at the chess board in front of him.

"Knowing Tilda, she took Riza up to Viv's old bedroom to show it to her. Checkmate." Al shrugged, laughing as he earned a groan from his Grandson-in-Law as he took victory in their game.

"I'm going to be thirty before I beat you at this game, old man." Roy groaned.

"Eh, you're getting better. Do you have any Alchemy skills that might earn you the title of State Alchemist?"

"More or less. I mean I do, I'm just not confident in the skills as of this moment."

"Will you be ready when the next round of tests start? You've got less then six months."

"God I hope so. The pay raise will be nice. I don't want to have to worry about there being enough food on the table."

"You do know that since you're married to my only grandchild, when me and Tilda pass away she'll get everything, right?"

Roy waved a hand dismissively. "I'd rather not discuss your mortality, Sir. Besides, I don't want to survive solely on Riza's inheritance."

"Understood." Al nodded.

"So what skill is it?"

"Fire."

"Fire? Ooh boy! You must show me what it is you can do!" Al cackled.

"Absolutely not! He damn near burned down my childhood home the first time he tried to practice! Too many flammable objects are in here!" The two soldiers turned their heads and saw their wives descending the steps, a stern look on Riza's face.

"I didn't mean for him to do a demonstration in the middle of the parlor, dear." Al pouted, earning a kiss on the temple from Matilda.

"Riza is right, though. I'm not well practiced enough for it to not be dangerous right now." Roy admitted, smiling as Riza wrapped her arms around him.

"I just need a way to make it more... controlled." He sighed.

"The Strong Arm Alchemist uses gauntlets on his hands for his Alchemy. The Silver Alchemist has tattoos on his hands. Perhaps you could use one of their ideas for yourself." Al suggested.

"Maybe. How you feel about me having tattoos on my hands?" Roy asked, glancing up at Riza. If we both had the transmutation circle for Flame Alchemy tattooed on to our skin, would that mean we have matching tattoos?

"Wouldn't work. You would still need a way to create a spark." She reminded him. Get a tattoo and die.

"True."

"Perhaps a pair of gloves could work? There's a material from Creta called pyrotex. I doubt it would be difficult for the transmutation circle to be sewn into them." Matilda suggested.

Roy's eyebrows shot up. "That might actually work. Either of you know how to get some of the material?"

"Let us handle that. Consider it a wedding present for you." Al grinned.

"Food is ready!" Julia yelled from the kitchen.