July 6

"Dear Aunt Chris, Ada, Juliet, Sophie, Elinor, Veronica, Claire, Lucy and Violet,

I hope you girls aren't cross with me for not having written as often as before. I feel like the first few weeks of summer have flown by, and Hawkeye-sensei has really been pushing me to my limits with the alchemy lessons. I'm allowed to transmute things now, although we are starting very small—only things that are smaller than six square inches, at this point. (Auntie, I promise I will make you a much prettier necklace as soon as I get the proper materials!)

Aside from the increase in my workload, it has been hotter than blazes around here the past several days, so any spare time I've had has been spent lying low indoors and trying not to move any more than absolutely necessary. Sensei doesn't seem to notice the heat, but Miss Riza and I have taken to eating our dinners on the porch where there is a breeze in the evening, rather than sit in the stuffy heat of the kitchen. She says August will be even worse, but at least there are thunderstorms to look forward to. And speaking of Miss Riza, I finally figured out something that has been bothering me. I wonder whether you girls had already guessed?"

"Oh," Roy murmured, with a soft exhalation full of admiration and wonder. "Wow."

This was possibly the most beautiful place he'd found so far in his wanderings. Tilting his head back, he caught sight of bits of the bright blue sky between the gaps in the leaves and branches of the tall oak trees overhead. Soft, silky grass spread out all around his feet, from the little dirt path on which he stood to the banks of a small creek at the farther side of the clearing. Clumps of wildflowers dotted the grass, filling the air with a sweet but subtle fragrance that Roy inhaled eagerly. A light breeze whispered and shushed its way through the leaves, and slender shafts of sunlight lit the whole clearing with a soft, golden glow.

What better place to escape the stifling heat? The house was dull anyway, since Miss Riza had pulled one of her disappearing acts and left Roy with no one to talk to. He'd headed into the cool forest hoping to pass the afternoon in the pleasant dappled shade rather than sprawled listlessly in front of the radio. It was way too hot to concentrate on his pleasure reading, much less study his lessons, and there wasn't much else to do indoors all by himself.

But this would do nicely. Roy cast about for a sturdy tree to sit back against. And then he changed his mind and headed for the creek instead. It wasn't deep enough to swim in, but he toed off his shoes and socks and rolled his pant legs up to his knees. The water was clear and cold and the soft, muddy bottom squelched pleasantly between his toes.

After wading downstream for a bit, Roy found a mossy bit of mostly dry bank to sit on and let his feet dangle in the water while he listened to the babble of water over stones and the humming of insects. His sleepy eyes followed a pair of sparrows that darted amongst the branches above him, and he wondered whether this little creek was a favorite spot of Miss Riza's. It seemed like something she'd appreciate. Quiet, peaceful and gentle, just like her. And if he was perfectly honest with himself, he'd really been hoping to find her somewhere in the woods as well, once he'd realized that she was not in the house. Where was she, anyway? And why hadn't she wanted him to come wherever she'd gone?

Somewhat petulantly, Roy worked a small stone loose from the mud of the bank and tossed it into the creek, where it made a satisfyingly heavy plunk. As he leaned forward to toss another, a golden sparkle caught his eye.

"Hello, what's that?" he said to himself. There, on the farther side of the bank, something winked brightly at him from a particularly fluffy tuft of grass. Carefully Roy waded across and scrambled up on the opposite shore to get a better look. It was a necklace. Roy turned his find over and over in his hands.

It was a heavy, old fashioned locket on a thick chain. It wasn't at all tarnished, which meant it hadn't been lying there long. And to judge from the highly polished surface, whoever had dropped it must care for it a great deal. All the way out here though…surely it belonged to Miss Hawkeye? Well, might as well ask her, anyway. If he could find her, that is.

And thinking of Miss Hawkeye…Roy slowly settled back down in the soft grass, rubbing a thumb absently over the engraved surface of the locket.

Riza's recent behavior toward Roy had undergone such a significant change from what it'd been when they'd first met—she was almost a completely different girl. Not that he was complaining, of course. He liked the Riza that gently teased him and let him carry all the heavy items back from market each week and listened to the radio programs with him in the evenings when neither of them had studying to do—he felt that they really were becoming friends.

But as his 'sisters' had noted, Roy was no fool. All of those little things he'd noticed about her before, the mistrust and the self-deprecating comments and the avoidance…he hadn't forgotten any of those. So the question remained—why had she acted so cold to him in the beginning? As glad as he was that she'd changed her mind about him, what had made such a kind and gentle girl so distant and wary in the first place? A cute, sweet girl like her shouldn't have any reason to be fearful of strangers.

And then it hit him: maybe that was the reason behind his teacher's original warning; maybe some of his previous students had been a bit too appreciative of the "cute, sweet girl" sharing their living space.

Riza was a bit on the young side to really be drawing that sort of attention, but then, there were an awful lot of creeps in the world. After all, age hadn't stopped Violet's former employer from shoving her up against the wall and putting his hands up her dress when she'd been a thirteen year old housemaid who looked even younger. Violet had been fortunate in that she'd remembered her nails and teeth, and that sinking them into the flesh of her attacker had so shocked the man that he'd let her loose. She'd been even more fortunate to be found, a miserable quivering mess of tears and terror, on Chris's doorstep hours later, where she'd dropped in exhaustion after running far enough and hard enough that she'd lost herself entirely. She'd been working for Madame ever since.

Supposing something similar had happened to Riza? It would certainly explain her trust issues. Of course she'd be skittish around men for a while afterward…but that explanation didn't feel quite right. She'd been unsure of Roy, yes, and even made sure to keep out of his way at first. But she didn't have the same awareness of him that Violet had had of men in those first months after her attack, or that hunted look in her eyes…Roy knew he was missing something still. He wondered whether his aunt had already figured it out—it was her business to know things, after all. Though he was willing to bet she wouldn't tell him if he asked. She'd want him to figure it out on his own.

Had someone hurt her, then? She seemed to know an awful lot about bruises and how quickly they healed, and how to hide them with her mother's old makeup. And then there was Doctor James…had his familiarity with her been more than the ordinary family-doctor-in-a-small-town knowledge? Had he treated her for other injuries, ones that weren't accidental? If so, who'd inflicted them? Riza hadn't acted frightened of the older boys who'd blacked his eye, so it wasn't likely that any of them had anything to do with it. But supposing one of her father's students had laid hands on her? After all, Roy had been warned away from her within his first hour spent under Berthold Hawkeye's roof. Of course her father wouldn't allow anyone to hurt her deliberately. Maybe he was way off base, here.

But Roy had no doubt that something had happened to her.

Roy sat mulling over this question until the sunlight in the trees turned a rich shade of orange-gold. And still, the only thing he was sure of was that she'd been picked on at some point, for some unknown reason. Gathering his shoes and socks, he slowly made his way home, lightly swinging the locket on its chain.

As he threw open the back door, Roy nearly ran headlong into Riza. She avoided him neatly with a little skip backwards.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to run you over," he apologized with a cheerful laugh. And then, seeing Riza's pale and drawn face more clearly, he added: "Hey, you okay?"

"No, I'm fine, I just—" she cut herself off suddenly and froze with her eyes riveted on his hands. "What is that?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"Oh," Roy said, holding up the locket so she could see it better. He'd half forgotten about it already. "Is this yours? I thought it might be." Her hand flew to her throat, and the remaining color drained from her face.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it is."

"Didn't you notice it was missing?" he asked, puzzled. Why was she looking at him like that?

"I'd only just realized," she said, with one hand still at her throat as though she distrusted the evidence of her own eyes. "I was just going out to look for it."

"It's-it's really pretty," Roy said carefully, trying to understand her reaction. Why fear? And why fear directed at him? Hadn't they gotten past this already? "Was it your mom's?"

"Yes. Please, give it back," she burst out desperately, taking a step closer. "I'll do whatever you want, just please!" she begged.

"You'll—what?!" Roy cried, realization dawning. "I'm not...Miss Hawkeye, I'm not threatening you! I'm not—" he broke off and thrust the necklace at her as though it had burned his hand.

Riza darted forward and snatched it from his loose grip, clutching it protectively against her chest with both hands and never taking those wide, terrified eyes off of him. And suddenly the injustice of it was too much for Roy to bear.

"I found it in the woods today; I assumed it was yours so I brought it back with me. I didn't steal it, if that's what you're thinking," he said hotly. "And honestly? I can't believe you think I'd do such a thing! What do you take me for?!" he added.

Angry and flustered and more than a little hurt, Roy had no idea what sort of expression was on his face. But he noticed Riza's flinch, and he saw her hands starting to shake. And immediately, he was ashamed of himself. Not only was Miss Hawkeye younger than him, and a girl, but she was frightened. And yelling at someone who was already scared wouldn't solve anything, regardless of the provocation he might have had.

"Hey," he said, a little gruff still, but without the heat this time. "I didn't mean to yell at you, I'm sorry..." He ran a hand through his hair, at a loss. What in the bloody hell was he supposed to do about this girl?

"N-no," Riza managed to choke out. Though still trembling violently, she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...implied you'd taken it on purpose. It's just...It's just that—" and to his horror, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh god," Roy said, full of remorse. "Please don't cry! What can I do? Do you want me get you a handkerchief? Or make tea? Or just leave you alone and go away to my room? Please, just tell me what you need me to do," he pleaded with her, growing frantic.

Riza shook her head, and took several deep breaths, in a clear struggle to regain control. She sank into the closest kitchen chair, swiping at her eyes with impatience. Warily, Roy drew out another chair and settled beside her, careful not to sit too close.

He longed to stroke a hand over hers, or to place an arm around her thin shoulders, something—he'd grown up petted and fawned over, and it had made him very tactile in his affection. But he simply curled his fingers into his palms, knowing that he'd only make things worse if he tried to touch her now. They'd probably misunderstood each other enough for one day.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, ashamed of her weakness.

"I'd say forget it, but...what the hell just happened?" he said, a crease in his brow. A tiny, slightly hysterical giggle escaped her lips, and gave him courage to continue. It was time to stop pussyfooting around her trust issues. "Okay look, I think we need to talk about this," he said firmly. "Someone's obviously treated you pretty horribly for you to react like that. Was it another student?" She nodded.

"Not just the one," she confessed. "There have been a few who...teased me."

"Uh, seems to me like there was more than just teasing going on," he insisted, thinking of the various bullies he'd come across in school. "Did they take your stuff? Hit you? Like that?" She nodded again.

"Sometimes they'd follow me," she admitted. "On my way to town. There aren't usually a lot of people on the road, so..." she sniffled and trailed off, reluctant to actually say: so they could do whatever they wanted and there was no one to help me. She didn't have to.

"Those little bastards," Roy hissed, clenching his fists. "Did they hurt you?"

"Some of them, yes." He hated knowing that he'd been right.

"What possible reason did they have to pick on you?" he burst out. "What the hell is wrong with people?!" She lifted her eyes at that, and appeared to be gauging the sincerity of his anger with those soft, wary eyes.

"They thought they could convince me to do things for them which I wasn't willing to do," she explained steadily. "Apparently pain is an excellent motivator."

"What?! They what?!" God, she's just a kid! Passionate anger flooded his chest, competing with the horrified realization that his earlier guesses had been so close to the truth. It was one thing to wonder in the abstract sense whether something bad had happened to her, but to actually hear her say the words in that soft, sweet voice of hers...Roy felt physically ill.

"It's no secret that the military wants my father to join the State Alchemist program," Riza continued, calmer now but still shivering a little. "Everyone knows that he's been researching elemental alchemy. Flame alchemy. And every student that he's taken in hopes that he'll choose to reveal the secrets of his research to them."

"Wait…" Roy said softly. What did that have to do with anything? Could she mean—?

"I don't even know alchemy," she spat, bitterly. "And even if I did, I'm no traitor."

"You're saying that they wanted you to betray your father? To give them his notes, his codes, whatever?" he asked incredulously. She looked up in surprise.

"Yes." Not exactly what he'd been thinking, then. He almost felt relieved, but then…

"So, every time I talked to you, you thought that I just wanted…oh." His face fell.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mustang," Riza said quietly. "I know you're not that kind of person, now. You've had more opportunity than most of them did, and you've never once tried to…but then I saw my locket in your hand, and I...I thought..."

"You thought that I'd taken it to use as some sort of leverage against you," he finished. He had a disturbingly clear mental image of a boy about his age holding the locket over the head of a much younger Riza, one who cried and begged in vain for him to give it back as he taunted her.

"Yes," she whispered. "It wouldn't be the first time. Even though...I know you've never acted like that before, but...there were just certain things that-that reminded me of those other times."

"Yeah, like everything I've done since I got here," he mumbled, the sick feeling welling up in his belly.

It all made sense now. Why she was so quiet and cautious at first, and why she was so careful with what she said and how she moved in his presence. Why she'd always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop whenever he talked to her. And here he was, thinking that she was finally beginning to trust him.

"There were others, weren't there, who started off being friendly to you, and then changed?" he asked in a dull voice.

"Yes," she said simply.

So all this time…she'd been testing him. Leaving herself vulnerable and exposed deliberately, to see whether he'd try anything. Probably just hoping he'd get it over with already. It really hurt, to know that she'd been viewing his sincere offers of friendship through such a sinister lens all of this time. Just waiting for the day he'd turn on her. He swallowed hard as another thought occurred to him.

"That day, when you dislocated your shoulder…you fell out of the tree, didn't you?" The tree with branches that nearly reached her bedroom window.

"Yes."

"I wondered," he said softly, eyes clouded. It was brilliant of her, really. How else could she be sure she'd never run into him in the hallway? Or slip back into her room unseen, without needing to pass by the library or the kitchen? Was that what she'd done this morning too? Avoided his unwanted company by taking refuge up a tree, where he'd never find her by accident?

Riza watched him closely, reading the emotions that flashed in his eyes.

Holding her breath, she slowly lowered her folded hands away from her breast. Her hands were no longer shaking when she unfolded them to reveal the pretty locket concealed there.

"Would...would you like to see it?" she asked softly. Roy's eyes flicked to hers, surprised, but he didn't move. "Here," she said, extending her hands toward him.

His heart leaped in his chest. Maybe…maybe he hadn't been completely wrong, after all. Maybe she really had been starting to trust him. Isn't that what this small gesture was? A display of her trust in him?

Roy moved very slowly, as though in the presence of a wild deer that would spring away if he spooked her. His fingertips, warm and calloused, brushed her palm as he lifted the necklace by the golden chain. He took a moment to admire the complicated pattern of leaves and flowers engraved along the edges, though he was already very familiar with it by this time. Running a thumb along the catch of the oval shaped locket, he looked at Riza again, silently asking permission. She nodded encouragement, and he flicked it open.

There were two pictures inside. One was of a woman he'd seen only once before in a faded photograph. This picture, although smaller, was clearer and less faded than the other one had been, and he studied it carefully. The second picture was of the same woman, in a wedding dress, standing beside his teacher, who wore a formal suit. They looked radiantly happy.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, reverently. "Your mom, right?"

"Mm-hm. She died about five years ago," she explained, shifting slightly closer to him. "I don't have much to remember her by, besides this locket. Papa…papa got rid of a lot of her things, after."

Roy studied the woman's face for another moment before carefully closing the locket again. With his free hand, he reached out and caught hold of Riza's slender fingers, gently tugging her hand closer. Solemnly, he then tipped the heavy locket into her outstretched palm and very gently folded her fingers back over it.

"Then this must be precious to you. I'm glad I found it before you missed it," he said softly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They stared at each other for another moment, each equally aware that something had shifted in their relationship. Before it could become awkward, the clock in the hallway struck the hour, and both children jumped. And in the same moment they both began to laugh, amused at themselves for being startled.

"I should probably start dinner," Riza said shyly.

"Want a hand? I've gotten pretty good at chopping things," Roy offered with a grin. She blinked, considering.

"Sure, why not?"

As his chair scraped back, Roy saw something out of the corner of his eye. By the time he'd turned his head, it was already gone, but he could have sworn he'd seen the edge of his teacher's coat swishing around the corner.

A.N. Well, he got there in the end. It only took him, what, three months? And yes, Berthold is a little stalker-y here, but then someone has to keep an eye on those darn apprentices! Thanks again for the reviews and follows and favorites, everyone! And please do let me know what you think of this chapter as well!

xoxo Janie