Chapter Three- Linger

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage

-Lao Tzu

East City, 1914

0300 hours

The stillness was deceiving; the gentle breeze that flowed through the partially opened window, whispered against the elegant sheers, the echoes of the nocturnal animals providing what should've been a sweet lullaby. From his perch, he could observe the streets of East City and revel in the serene quietness that preceded the bustling city's waking hours. It was amazing how different the city was during the early hours of the day. Summers in the East weren't as bad as in Central. Still the same, they could be unbearable for others at but posed no problem to him. It was the reason why he'd pulled the window up only an inch or two from the sill, allowing the slight flow of air into the bedroom. His companion would no doubt, be very thankful. The heat of the day had segued into a comfortable evening, the hint of crispness on the wings of that breeze heralding a change in both the air and Amestris. As he was wont to do when he couldn't sleep, he sat on the window sill, gazing out into the inky darkness, for once, contemplating the future.

Change was coming, had been coming for a long time.

And now it was a steam engine on a collision course toward the heart of the country.

Not that he was especially attuned to nature, despite his certain abilities. It was in the atmosphere, in the language of the people, in their eyes. The soft rumblings of revolution barely escaped the lips of the Amestrian people; they were desperate, longing for a life without the threat of retribution for the simple freedoms not held within the state for decades. Yet, the fear was rampant; calming the irate and the disparity in one glare. The people had known nothing but the harsh reminders of the military and judging by Führer Bradley's war machine, the notion of change would've been a foreign idea at best.

Roy knew better, however. Amestris was ripe for the picking. Trouble was he wasn't sure that the right people were tending to the harvest. His instinct to exploit this change had instigated an investigative trip to Resembool four years ago, had prompted him to endorse an eleven year old prodigy for State Alchemist status, and entrusted that young man and his iron-clad brother with several strategic and very dangerous missions while they were on one of their own. As the two youngsters from Resembool cut a swath through their country, conspiracies, plots and political machinations were evolving at a quick pace.

On the surface it all seemed a mere power play by the power players but it was deeper than that. This sense of dread resounded in his soul and threatened to surface, weighing heavily on his consciousness, nearly howling for action. In Ishbal, he'd vowed to ascend the echelons of power to protect the ones he loved, but now, more so than ever, did he feel the need to act. The darkness that was quickly descending on his country like a starved beast, the rising conspiracy it's sharpened teeth. He'd felt it the moment he'd set foot in Central for missions, he'd felt it every time he entered Central Command, every time he held court with King Bradley. The tenuous relationship between the Chief Military Executive and his lowly Colonel were stilted at best; Roy knew if Bradley desired, he could easily dispose of The Flame Alchemist- or use him against his will. As it were, Roy felt as if he were hanging by the ever shortening strings of the marionette, a puppet to be used at Bradley's whim. For all intents and purposes, he was, as were all of the State Alchemists. They functioned as Bradley's personal weapon against foes and friends alike. A deadly reminder of who really held the power.

Roy clinched his fist tightly as his brow narrowed, the anger of past regrets haunting the deep recesses of his mind. He'd made a decision back in Central four years ago that he would no longer dwell on the ghosts of the past. If he were to make a defining change, to grasp the reins of power, he'd have to keep his eye on the future.

The thought of Bradley's condescending smile stoked an ever burning cinder deep within Roy's heart, quickening its already frantic beating. The man was pure evil hiding in plain sight. Roy knew it while others were cautiously observing. Roy only hoped that while they lingered on the precipice of knowledge, they weren't setting themselves up for a devastating fall.

"Mind telling me why you're not in bed?"

A soft voice followed by the gentle touch of her hands slipping down his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck pulled Roy out of the dark chasm of misgivings. He placed his hand on her forearm, stroking it lightly with his fingertips and smiled, his leveled voice betraying the fury that simmered just beneath the surface.

"Would you believe that I'm getting a head start on a new day?" Her grip tightened slightly and Roy grimaced, "No need to use your strong arm tactics with me, Lieutenant."

"Then come clean, Sir," Riza whispered, relaxing her arms a measure.

Roy chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes narrowing as he continued to stare out into the darkness, "Clean… that's a lofty goal, isn't it?"

"Roy," Riza warned. She made to shift in front of him but Roy stopped her. He didn't think he could face her with all that was running through his mind. As it were, every time he gazed into her whiskey brown eyes, he questioned his motives. Riza had made a similar vow, unconditional in its standing. She had positioned herself as his protector, willing to put her life on the line to keep him safe from both internal and external threats. He trusted her to make that snap decision, to pull the trigger at his command or because of his command. And the best he could promise her was his determination to reach the top of the pyramid. The level of trust that existed between them was visceral, all consuming, and truthfully, frightening. He held her ideals, her future in his hands and he had to make good on his word. They were no longer merely superior and subordinate: The Flame Alchemist had ceded his heart to the Hawk's Eye, adding her to that ever growing list of loved ones he'd given his life to protect.

Roy held her arm tighter and closed his eyes, "I can feel the change, Riza. Something's coming and we're not prepared." He paused and opened his eyes slowly, gazing at the invisible horizon, "It may already be here."

Much to Roy's consternation, Riza successfully evaded his attempts to keep her in her place and exhaled heavily as she came to rest in front of him. He caught a brief glimpse of her face in the dim illumination that filtered in from the lamppost stationed right outside of her window, the dark shadows concealing half her face. Although he could see only one of her eyes clearly, her expression segued between concern and resolution. It was as if she could read his dark thoughts and chances were, she could and she was coming to the exact same conclusion.

They were all on an unknown, uncertain trajectory.

Riza lifted her hand to cup his cheek and Roy turned into her palm, the sensation of her thumb gliding across his cheek calming him. The silence stretched between them, the unspoken words of encouragement and love flowing through their gaze. Sometimes, words weren't necessary, especially to those who already knew the heart's desire.

Riza inched closer, straddling his hips, holding his gaze within her own, "I won't lie and say that I'm not scared. I am."

"Riza…"

"Roy," Riza countered softly, "you're so quick to shoulder the burden."

"What is all of that trust if I fail to uphold my part of the bargain?" Roy's ominous question filled the space between them, the doubt in his voice strong. "I've involved everyone I care about in this...mission to save Amestris without truly calculating the costs. I've asked you all to take that risk without giving anything in return. It's not equivalent!"

"We all knew what we signed on for, Roy. None of us came into this blindly. We know the score." Riza's voice was resilient, if not slightly laced with annoyance. "I'm surprised, Colonel, that you think so little of us. That you think we aren't prepared for the sacrifices…"

"It's not that, Hawkeye." Exasperated, Roy averted his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with Riza at three in the morning. He could just imagine the hell he'd have to go through later at the office. As such he was willing to concede his bravado- and maybe his pride- to the encroaching darkness. Exhaling, he moved to stand, "It's late, Riza. We should go to bed."

Riza pressed her body against his, effectively pinning his back against the wall. She placed her index finger against his lips. "Listen, Roy. Just listen." Without further explanation, she brought his head flush against her chest, "This heart trusts you, Roy Mustang. It's encouraged by your strength, your determination…by your love. That's all the equivalency I need."

Roy's eyes slid shut as he listened to her strong heartbeat, his own arms winding around her waist and pulling her closer to him. Her scent washed over him, soothing his worries and igniting a fire in one breath. He listed intently to the gentle throb, content that each pulsating thump was his to have regardless of any notion of equivalency. Her fingers slid through the silky strands of his hair, further lulling away the remaining darkness.

It was here that he was at his strongest, in the warmth of trust and compassion, grit and determination. Ultimately, it was where he wanted to be. His aspirations could wait for tomorrow; resting in the arms of the woman he loved and trusted beyond measure was all he needed to quell the lingering doubts.

A/N: I wanted to go for more of a lemon-y type of chapter but the muse wouldn't let me go there, so angst it is. Well, angst with a wee bit of fluff.

Thank you for reading and feel free to leave a thought or two!