A/N: We are finally at the end! This is, so far, the longest series I have ever written in my entire life, so I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who has kudo'ed, reviewed, bookmarked, followed, favorited, drawn, and reblogged, because all of you have kept me going. Thank you so so much you wonderful readers you! T_T

Rev. 1/2/21

chapter 16: now & here

Six Months Later, End of Summer, 5:03PM

"May I have the rings please?"

This is it. This is the moment.

Edward turns to Winry, feeling the shadows of their guests' watchful eyes trailing his every move. He's absolutely panicked. Terrified. Not at the notion of spending the rest of his life with the woman he's loved since childhood, but because he might just embarrass himself for saying or doing the wrong things. What if he drops the ring? What if it slips out before he can put it on? What if-

"Edward, place this ring on Winry's finger and repeat after me," their officiant instructs. "This ring is a symbol of my promise-"

The officiant is staring at him, waiting, and in Edward's nervous state, the trembling in his limbs is amplified tenfold. Everything is shaking with him, his hands, his legs. All unsteady.

"This ring is my… promise to you..." Edward croaks, parroting the man bearing down on him.

"-and commitment to you-"

His voice crackles and fizzes like fire in a hearth. It sounds so raspy he hardly recognizes himself. "...my daily commitment to you…"

"-a daily reminder of my love for you," the officiant continues.

"...you're my daily reminder of my love for you..."

His fingers shake as he attempts to slide in the ring, but the moment he looks up at Winry and finds her smiling face, the jitters are gone. Poof. Beneath her tulle, she gazes up at him, so warm and so loving, shivering his entire arms and steadying him at the same time. The officiant then faces his bride, giving her the smaller gold band.

"Winry, please place this ring on Edward's finger and repeat after me: This ring is a symbol of my promise and commitment to you-"

"This ring is a symbol of my promise and commitment to you…" she whispers.

"-a daily reminder of my love for you."

"...a daily reminder of my love for you."

This is it. This is it!

As rehearsed Edward lifts the veil over her head, but his hands are slick with sweat, his heart thumping like the violent shake of his washing machine back home. But then he sees Winry, his bride, his wife, no embellishments over her head. Just glimmering blue eyes, radiant skin, and a shy smile over her pink, plump lips. He really is the luckiest man on earth…

His mouth opens a touch, and beneath the numbness and butterflies, he really can't wait to kiss her. Now and forever and ever...

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may-"

And truly, Edward cannot dawdle even one more second for the officiant to finish. The pronouncement is too slow, too irritating. Zeal is already moving his hands, and he cradles her face, gently, fondly. And then he kisses her.

His blunder surprises Winry and she opens her eyes. Wide. But Edward doesn't care, because eventually she reciprocates, tangling her arms around his neck and letting him kiss her fully on the mouth. She giggles, touching his face and brushing her lips against his again. In the audience he can almost hear criticizing whispers, ooh's and aah's, followed by silence. Absolute silence.

But then there's clapping. So loud and obnoxious.

He hears Ling in the background, "Yeah, baby! Give it to her!" Then his best friend claps again, cheering him on.

And Edward does.

He grins and gives his newly wedded wife a little twirl that makes her laugh before scooping her up and peppering her face with kisses, all love and adoration. Edward is all fireworks and confetti, and humiliation has got nothing on him.

One hour ago...

When a friend of Roy's offered Point Fermin Lighthouse as her wedding venue at minimal cost and fees, Winry merely laughed and waved him off.

A historical bungalow overlooking a seaside cliff?

A choir of seagulls overhead?

A rose covered pergola?

Please.

That is a venue fit for celebrities and people who have money.

Pomp and ceremony has never been her endeavor. Winry likes her things simple. But with a little urging from Olivier and Edward's whole spiel of I-don't-care-where-we-get-married-as-long-as-you're-happy, Winry acquiesces.

It is a beautiful place. It is perfect. Up until last year, it is only something she talks about with dreamy, giggling friends and sees out of a Disney classic. And now that it is a reality, it all looks so overwhelming and so... eye-opening.

The fairy tale scene outside the window is not doing her any favor, and Winry bolts out of her chair, pacing around the changing room. She fans herself incessantly. "Girls! Help!"

Her two sisters fly to her side in an instant, her best friend trailing right behind them.

"What happened?" Riza gasps, her face an astonishment underneath the thick powder and rainbow glitters.

The length of her gown is mopping the floor, but all Winry can think about is what she's gotten Edward into. "Oh God, oh God. How many minutes until the ceremony?"

"Calm down, Winry. You have forty-five minutes. Plenty of time," Olivier answers so sensibly and so totally missing the point.

Her heart is beating in her ears, and her makeup is probably running down her face now that she's sweating so much. What has she done?

"Calm down, Winry! You'll be fine!" Paninya exclaims, attempting to comfort her. Though from what Winry can see, her friend is equally as panic-stricken as she is.

Then out of the blue Riza pulls her down to sit on the bench beside her. Her steady arm tangles around Winry's, and she begins swaying side to side, humming like a mother would to her crying baby. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm and decorous. The bizarre and unexpected stun her sister pulls surprises Winry more than anything.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom called Amestris, there was a princess named…"

Two hours ago...

Olivier tries.

She really does.

But her resting bitch face is truly a curse, and a couple shots of vodka she gobbled down an hour prior doesn't help her coherence.

Liv hasn't even spoken to Mason for more than five minutes and already she can see his discomfort. His dark eyes keep roaming around the oceanfront venue, like hers, and he constantly shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His body's way of telling him to escape, probably.

It's not that she's interested in dating him, even when Mason is all buff arms and chiseled jaw with a sun-kissed complexion. But it is because Izumi brought up a good point: Liv doesn't know any men who aren't cops, and the divorce rate of marrying any kind of law enforcement officer is as high as seventy-five percent.

"So, I heard from Winry you're a detective," Mason asks, staring down at her.

"Yeah. I love my job. Chase bad guys. Some people just deserve to be in prison."

Mason gives her a small smile. "And what do you do for fun?"

"Pardon?"

"You know, hobbies?"

"Oh, I go to the shooting range quite often. I spar with Izumi. Before she got pregnant, that is."

He laughs, the liquid in his glass sloshing with the shake of his body. "What about fairs? Do you like going to them? Deep fried twinkies, carnival games, that sort of thing?"

"I've never been, actually."

"Oh. No way. You should experience it at least once in your life," Mason remarks, grinning.

"That's what everybody tells me."

"Do you want to go?" he asks, surprising her.

As a child, Liv has always wanted to go. But between her parents' demanding job and studying all day, she never made it a priority. Now that she's well into her early 30's, she wonders if she can still enjoy what teens and children across America long for during the hot summer months.

Liv bites her inner cheek. "I suppose I do."

Three hours ago...

The sound of the ocean reminds Riza of her mother.

There is not one specific moment that connects the two. It just happened one day. And now everytime she hears the crashing of waves against rocks, she also hears the soft melody of her mother's humming.

Tereza Hawkeye was Riza's favorite person in the world; the best mother anyone could ask for. Her mother used to always talk about her first meeting with her father. Berthold had been a dashing scholar, ambitious and resourceful, and she an assistant to a well-known researcher. "Love at first sight," she had said. "He's a romantic and a dreamer. He remembers I love roses."

It is always difficult for Riza to picture her father as someone capable of love, someone who remembers birthdays and buys flowers to make her mother happy. But she supposes if a man could break down wholly in a matter of days at the news of his wife's passing, then he really did know how to care, once.

"You look beautiful, Riza," Roy whispers, pulling her out of her reverie.

She smiles up at him, running a hand down his groomsmen necktie. "You look handsome yourself."

Gingerly, he takes her hand and turns her to him. "Our one year anniversary is coming up… but I honestly can't wait that long."

"What is it?" she asks, full of anticipation.

In the distance Riza hears shouts. Then Maes' black spiky hair and spectacled face appears from the top of the hill in front of her, hardly twenty yards away.

"Get a room, guys! There's kids around!" Maes yells. "This isn't some rom-com!"

Irritable, Roy swivels to him, both of his hands still on hers, and roars back, "Thanks for ruining the moment, asshole!"

At Roy's displeasure, she laughs, and then she puts a soothing hand on his upper arm. "Calm down, Roy. I'm still here." She twirls him around to her, and she smiles. "You were going to say something?"

His gaze falls to the ground suddenly, and when he looks up at her again his cheeks are as red as a tomato. "Oh, nothing. Let's check up on Ed, shall we?"

Four hours ago...

"Oh, you are so precious!" Rebecca squeals, bouncing the baby on her knee. The telling look she shoots her boyfriend is anything but discreet.

Jean, who sits beside her, proceeds to look around and stammers awkwardly, "Um… I think there's a lot to think about before we make that, don't you think?"

But the brunette disregards his worries, poking Izumi's baby on her plump cheek. "Jeyne, your dress is so adorable! The same color as your Auntie Riza and Liv's!"

"I'm glad you guys can make it, Izumi," Olivier says, greeting her friend, admiring how quickly Izumi can shave off fifteen pounds of her pregnancy gain. "Jeyne seems pretty calm today."

"Liv, here. Take her." Without warning, Rebecca promptly hands Jeyne over, resuming to play with the cooing baby in her now stiff arms. "Oooh, who's a cutie, who's the cute little baby!"

Stiffly, Olivier holds the baby in her cradle, not rocking, just stiff like a statue. She eyes Izumi, shooting her a look of uncertainty, a look that says please-take-this-baby-away-from-me. "Izumi, what if I drop her…?"

Izumi laughs, waving her off with a hand. "You won't drop her. Every woman's got motherly instinct."

But the longer Liv has the baby in her arms, the more fearful she becomes. She's going to drop her. She's going to drop the baby, she thinks. And she tightens her hold around the precious bundle, looking down at her dewy cheeks and tiny open mouth. The baby is smiling, and it makes Olivier smile, too.

Beside her, Izumi taps her shoulder. "I have someone I'd like you to meet. His name is Mason."

"I think Winry mentioned a Mason a while back," Liv replies, recalling the guy Winry advertised as having muscular arms and an angular, handsome face.

"I think he's good for you," Izumi says. "See for yourself, yeah?"

Liv looks at baby Jeyne again, the tip of her finger poking her little nose. And she smiles. "Sure."

Five hours ago…

"Pinako!"

Winry jumps into the old woman's arm, forgetting about Pinako's newly recovered body and the walking stick in her hand. Pinako's cane clatters to the ground, and Winry ceases her embrace in horror. "Oh my God, am I hurting you? Are you okay?"

Pinako chuckles, patting her on the arm. "Don't worry. I'm not as fragile as you think."

Then before she can say anything more, Pinako reaches into her deep purse and hands her a leatherbound photo album. "This is for you, Winry. I'm sorry it's not much."

Winry has seen it once before, tucked into Pinako's wall shelf in the back of her tidy living room. She has never seen the inside, but it's been there for as long as she can remember. Ever since she was a young girl, wreaking havoc on the old woman's cozy house, running around and knocking things over.

Softly, she runs her fingers through the cover, plying its secrets. What will she find there?

Then she flips to the first page.

It's her father and mother in their grimy mechanic gear, looking as young as ever, flanking a tiny Winry in the center, a wrench in her hand.

Below it is Olivier at five, ten, and then fifteen. Her sister is never one to smile, though she seems to barely age at all. Winry has gotten taller and bigger beside her, but Liv looks the same as she does now save for the golden mane that seems to lengthen as the years go by.

And then there's Riza at the beginning of her adoption process, all frown and flat mouths, at odds with Winry's mischievous smiles and grins. When her new sister was finally inducted into the Armstrong Family Hall, her frown turned to smiles and then grins, matching hers all the same.

It's all there in one big, leather book.

Emotions well to the surface, and suddenly her eyes feel hot and heavy in the back of her skull. Like the pounding of a powerful tide against a cracking dam.

Winry thinks she needs to find her makeup artist again before everything comes off.

Point Fermin Lighthouse Reception, 8:35PM

Roy cannot stop staring. His chest is so tight he is breathless.

This is what Maes must feel like on a daily basis.

Underneath the glowing string lights and twinkling stars, Riza still burns the brightest. With a deep inhalation, he draws her in, closer, and tucks his chin between the bend of her neck and shoulder. He closes his eyes, swaying to the slow strings of piano and guitar, taking her with him.

"Are you falling asleep, Roy?" Riza asks, crooning in his ear.

"No," he murmurs. "But if I do fall asleep, I want to wake up next to you in the morning."

Her laughter is soft and melodious, and she creates a small distance between them, seeking clues in his expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His lungs are a desert again, and the pulse on his neck begins to drum in his ear. "I know we barely discussed this, but I've been ready for a while…"

Her brows lower to curious eyes, and Riza smiles endearingly. "You're not making any sense, Roy."

"Let's move in together," he professes, chuckling nervously. His feet have stopped moving to the music, his spine rigid, a frozen sculpture on the dance floor. "I want to do this. Do you…?"

Her face is a blank canvas for a moment, clear of emotions, vacant of stress lines and gleeful curves. It makes him restless; it makes him hold his breath for the hundredth time.

But then the seam of her mouth begins to twitch. And then one corner tugs up, stretching into a broad smile. Riza cups his cheeks and places a soft kiss there, just a brush of her lips.

"I do."

9:35PM

There is no city skyline here. No sounds of klaxons and the nightly noises of Los Angeles streets. There is only the black dome of the sky and a constellation of silver stars scattered across it. And then there's them.

Just as before.

The hem of Winry's ivory gown is brown from the wet ground beneath, her chignon coming undone as she lies supine, admiring the view with her pinkie finger coiled into Ed's. As children, this was all they did. They had seen the movement of silent clouds, observed the world in the distant twilight, watched the earth turn every summer night.

It was lulling and calming, even as the temperature began to drop as the hours went by.

It's been years since.

"It still looks the same..." Ed murmurs contemplatively beside her.

"Yes, it does," she agrees, bobbing her head, rustling the blades of grass underneath.

"Everything still feels the same," Edward says quietly.

Winry wounds her cool fingers into his, closing her eyes. "Yeah."

"But this time you are my wife."

"And you're my husband," she whispers.

11:59PM

The final goodbye rings from beyond the fenced lawn, just a short distance behind her. The night comes to an end much quicker than Olivier expected, and she clutches Jeyne's baby blanket around her shoulders as they walk back to their cars, seeking warmth against the air that has turned chilly.

Next to her, Riza nestles against Roy, folding herself into his side where he drapes his black tux over her thin sweater. Winry and Edward are right behind them, giggling, whispering to each other, her sister's measured gait as sober as the words of affection she proclaims into Edward's ears.

The wind blows again, and Liv pulls the small article tighter.

"What did you tell Mason, Liv?" Riza asks. "He looked pretty heartbroken when he left."

"I said it won't work out between us. We are two very different people," Liv replies, recalling her surprise when she found out Mason has actually taken a fancy to her.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Liv," Winry chimes in from her periphery, sounding neither disappointed nor saddened by the fact. Nothing like what Liv expected. "There are other men out there."

"You said you were going to seat him next to me, Win. But he sat opposite me tonight," Liv remarks.

"We didn't want to make you uncomfortable, Liv," Edward snickers behind her.

Liv chuckles, side-eyeing her sister's new husband. "I thought you liked seeing me uncomfortable."

Edward jostles forward and grins, "It's our wedding day. Besides, Mustang likes seeing you fidget more than I do."

"Speak for yourself, runt-" Roy retorts, and Riza amends it with a quick hand over her boyfriend's mouth, making him stumble and laugh.

And Olivier laughs too, feeling warmth beneath her cool skin.

It's impossible not to.

Not when she began the year thinking life would flow just the same, Winry a thousand miles apart, Riza stuck in a world Olivier never knew she dreaded.

Their cars are parked just down the hill, guarded by cliffside rails and a row of buzzling lampposts. Her eyes strain in the dim moonlight, but Liv swears she sees someone leaning against the hood of her car. Briskly, carefully, she trots ahead, censure at the tip of her tongue.

But as she gets closer she sees it. Recognizes it.

Anticipation turns into a set of strong shoulders and an outline of dark skin against fair hair. The slog of Olivier's heart picks up, galloping. And then the man steps into the light, the lamp overhead giving a luster to his amber eyes.

In front of her Miles stands with his hands in his pockets, watching her, waiting for her to take that first step. His presence is shocking, ceasing her heartbeat and lodging her breath in her throat. His hair is no longer reaching his shoulders, cut short to his nape. But he looks the same—the same tender smile and heedful gaze.

Olivier turns to Winry and then Riza. They linger several footfalls behind, giving her the privacy they knew she needed. Then Winry winks at her, raising a thumbs up. By her side, Riza grins and nods, encouraging her, urging her forward.

Her hands ball into fists, her legs weak against the gust and the man who has occupied much of her mind. There are still a million questions that need answers, awe and wonder that need appeasing. But she will take it all in stride. One by one, little by little.

And then she inhales and clicks her heel against the ground, taking that first step.

A/N: As always, I would love to hear your comments. Again, thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it 3. Until next time :)