December 27th, 1963

The long trip back to North City was wearying and restful at the same time; an odd dichotomy that Edward did not try to contemplate too heavily. He was declared fit for travel within a day of his injuries, given they were actually not all that severe. He was tired more than anything else, and relatively immobilized by the lack of one leg. Because of how the previous one had been ripped off, Doctor Ganns decided against putting in any kind of temporary prosthetic without an experienced auto-mail technician immediately available for consultation.

So Ed was bundled into a truck with a driver and an escorting nurse – unfortunately forty-years old, homely, and male – and driven back down to Larendon, where he was put on the train for North City. The train portion of the trip was more comfortable than the truck; less bouncy, and he had a berth with a bed to sleep in. Given the option of a heated space and a real bed with pillow – however utilitarian – he slept a good portion of the trip, and enjoyed the food available, though he was cautious given his stomach was still rebellious, and he was more nauseated than usual from the knocks to the head, despite being warmer.

By the time the train arrived in North City, Ed felt decent physically. The only real downside to all that time was being focused enough to think, and thinking was dangerous. As soon as he felt well enough to be coherent and alert for hours at a time Ed found himself going over the battle – and what he had been told otherwise – in detail. He analyzed the techniques they had employed; what had worked and what hadn't. He thought about what Tore and Lyssandra and Fletcher had told him later about finding the group of alchemists firing off the flaming javelins and capturing one and killing the other three. The fourth had surely been interrogated in depth by now, but Ed had missed it. He hoped Breda and Kane got that report while he was in North City, if they hadn't already. Ed wanted to know what new information it might hold that would be helpful.

Worst though, was the distinct and painful memory of watching Torv get skewered, the life draining out of him as he died. That haunted him in his sleep, more immediately than the other deaths Ed had witnessed personally, or remembered hearing about. He didn't try and stop from thinking about it either. The dead deserved to be remembered. Ed would not forget the Earthshaker Alchemist's work, his talent, or who he had been as a person. Neither, likely, would anyone else who had known him. The rest of the world might not care, but Ed refused to think of the alchemists as just a group. They were people, friends, and colleagues. He had helped make them who they were and also part of the reason and impetus that had brought them to this point in their lives. He didn't feel guilty that they died; but he did feel some responsibility.

It was depressing, and the weight of it came upon him now, in the quiet, the way it didn't when he was constantly busy, constantly working, focused on the war and on living through each day.

Ed had been given crutches to use for getting himself around on his own, and he made it down off the train unassisted, though his assigned nurse insisted on carrying his bag to the hospital building that was still being used as the primary military medical facility in the city. That was fine with Ed. That was where Winry and Ethan were working out of anyway, so that was where he needed to report in for his repairs anyway.

On top of his concerns and memories of dead compatriots, a dread began to fill Ed as he hobbled the few blocks to the hospital. Winry was going to be furious with him for this! If there was anything he could count on better than clockwork, it was that Winry would accuse him of being reckless and getting her work destroyed needlessly. Admittedly, running around behind enemy lines on a battlefront probably should count as reckless.

"I'm going to report in," the nurse – his name was Vlad – said. "Will you be all right?"

"I think I can get by on my own for fifty feet or so," Ed replied wryly. He didn't want to mention how tired he was. Hobbling around on crutches was more tiresome than he wanted to admit. Okay, so maybe I do miss being twenty… or thirty… or forty. Ed turned and hobbled down the hallway. Time to get the shouting over with. Still, it was going to be good to see Winry again.

Winry had her face buried in the inner workings of an auto-mail arm when she heard the sound of clunking behind her that sounded like someone on crutches. A new repair for me no doubt. Otherwise they usually didn't show up in the auto-mail shop corner of the little two-story hospital the military had completely taken over. "I'll be just a moment," she said waving one hand in the air to let whoever it was know that she had noticed their presence.

"No hurry," a hauntingly familiar voice commented. "I can wait."

Winry sat bolt upright and nearly smacked her head into the machinery. "Edward?" She turned around and stared. Standing in the doorway – yes, on crutches – looking haggard and banged up, was the most familiar face in Amestris. "I didn't know you were coming."

Ed winced and looked uneasy. "Yeah. Well there wasn't much time to send a note ahead of when they dumped me in a car. I ah… need a replacement leg."

Not a repair job; a full replacement. Winry's eyes went immediately to Ed's left leg, to find that the pant leg was tied off just below the stump of the port. There wasn't even a temporary fake to stand on. What happened to you? Obviously a lot, given the bandage on his forehead, a couple on other spots on his face, and he had a couple of weeks of beard growth. Given the cold around here though, she had gotten used to the fact that the soldiers shaved as little as possible as a matter of warmth! On Ed, two weeks was just scruffy. Beneath it all, he looked exhausted.

Winry dropped the wrench in her hand as she stood and crossed the room. Her arms wrapped around his chest and she hugged him tightly. "Oh, Ed… are you all right?" He stiffened under her hands, though it only lasted a moment. Winry looked up at him. "Did I do something wrong?" He wasn't usually so hesitant.

He looked bemused. "I… was expecting a more violent welcome."

He had been expecting a wrench to the head he meant. Winry sighed, then smiled and kissed his fuzzy cheek, hugging him again. "I'm not mad at you about the auto-mail," she replied quietly. "Auto-mail I can replace. I can't replace you."

That seemed to be what he needed, because Winry heard one of the crutches hit the floor as one arm wrapped around her tightly, clutching her almost frantically against his chest. "Oh, Winry…" he gasped quietly into her hair. "I've missed you so much." His voice hitched near the end.

Whatever had happened, it had been a lot the last few months. The last time Winry had seen him, Edward had been positive, romantic, and surprisingly happy. Now he seemed desperately searching for something; an escape. He was beaten down.

Winry stroked his back with her hands, supporting him so he wouldn't fall on one leg. "It's all right," she whispered. "I've missed you too." He would tell her everything with time. She didn't press. "I can get off soon. We can go back to the room and you can rest."

Ed straightened up and the look in his eyes was anything but restful. "The room is good but I… I need you first."

Even like this… Winry smiled gently. "Whatever you need, Ed."

"I'm sorry," he looked a little embarrassed even as his hand grasped her. "I just need to..feel… alive. All I've seen lately is death, or dealing with it. I lost Lordes and…Skald. We've lost so many others." He gripped her tighter, than leaned into her again. "I need you."

Winry understood now. "Then you'll have me," she promised. "Let's get a look at you first though all right?" She looked up apologetically. "If I'm going to build you a new leg that is. How long do you have?"

Ed smiled for the first time since his arrival. "Doc Ganns said as long as it takes for me to be combat ready. What's your professional opinion?"

Winry smiled back. "That it will take at least four days to build you something suitable, possibly longer to make sure it, and you, are in condition to return to duty." All right, so it was an excuse to keep him here, with her, safe, and to make sure he rested, and got some food in him! Under her arms he felt lean; hard, but thinner again.

Aside from the banged up face, he sounded congested too. But then, she was suspicious that the doctor's orders were so that he would have the time he needed. I must remember to thank this one later. He knows how to handle Ed.

"You won't hear me arguing," Ed replied. "I don't suppose you've got a spare I can hobble around on till then? Ganns isn't an auto-mail expert and he didn't want to try anything. The leg was… ripped out."

Winry winced. Ripped? That must have been painful! "Was there nerve damage?" That could complicate things.

"He says no," Ed assured her immediately. "It hurt like hell the first few days, but they feel pretty normal now. It was painful but… better than the alternative."

"What did it?" Anything that could rip off an auto-mail leg meant lethal in her experience.

Ed hesitated, clearly not wanting to tell her, but he did anyway. "A weapon the Drachmans worked out; metal spears covered in some kind of alchemical fire. One speared my leg while I was retreating."

"At least you had the good sense to retreat," Winry resisted the urge to clutch him tightly again. They would have time alone, in a more private setting. She wasn't the only one working auto-mail after all. "Let me have a look at your arm and leg and then we'll get out of here, all right?"

Ed nodded unenthusiastically and hobbled to one of the benches, where he hopped up and sat so she could take a look at both pieces. "The arm's holding up fine," he commented. "Surprisingly well considering the lighter materials."

"It's one of mine," Winry winked as she watched him take off his coat and uniform jacket and shirt while she untied the pant leg to get a look at the port. It only took a minute to determine that the port was, currently, closed off as it should be and, when she opened it briefly, that the nerves were protected and clean and healthy.

"That looks fine," she said, moving to the work counter and contemplating the temporary legs hanging on the wall. They were just jointed crutches in their own way, but it gave him something to rest his weight on, and it didn't connect to the nerves directly. She pulled one down the right length and returned, affixing it to the port. When she finished she rolled the pant leg down to cover the prosthetic.

"Thanks," Ed said as she moved to look at his arm, which he had laid out on the table next to the bench already. It was a sign of his exhaustion that he wasn't arguing more.

Winry made it a quick examination. She could do repairs later. Really all it needed was some minor tuning, and a good cleaning. Both could wait until he had rested. "That should do it for now," she said as she screwed the cover piece back on after a few minutes. "I'll work on it later."

"You're being awfully kind."

Winry looked up and caught him grinning. A good sign! She chuckled. "I'm always kind, Ed." She picked up his shirt to help him put it back on. "But I have to admit," she whispered in his ear. "You're one of my favorite patients."

"Oh really?" He glanced over his shoulder as he buttoned the shirt. "And why's that?"

Winry kissed his ear before reaching for his jacket. "Because you're the one I get to make love to… and about a million other reasons."

Ed caught her hand as she settled the jacket on his shoulders. "I'd like to hear those sometime. I hope though, that the main one is because I love you."

Winry felt warm inside. She didn't resist the urge to hug him once more, gently around the neck from behind. "That will always be reason number one."

December 28th, 1963

They made love that night despite Edward's exhaustion. Not that it lasted as long as he wanted, or it might have normally. He didn't have the energy he'd had even a few months ago, but as he'd told Winry he needed her. He needed to feel alive, and loved, and to forget for a while about the death and loss that awaited him every day online in his reality. He needed to remember the rest of the world; what he was fighting for in the first place.

It was a late night, and they cuddled until he fell asleep. Ed passed out first, feeling the most at home he had in too long, Winry's soft, strong arms around him. His nose buried in her hair. When he slowly dragged up out of sleep the next morning, their position hadn't even changed, though Winry was awake, smiling at him. "What?" He asked blearily.

"Nothing," she kissed his nose. "I was just watching you sleep." Her expression turned regretful. "I don't have today off. I need to go in for a while, but we can have breakfast first."

"I'd like that." Nothing would be more pleasant than sharing a meal with Winry. Okay, most things would not be more pleasant; there were notable exceptions. He was also looking forward to a long, hot soak in the tub that was a fortunate part of his getting a better room than some.

"Good," Winry replied. "Because you look half-starved. I thought alchemists were supposed to get half-again on the rations."

"We do," Ed assured her. He was going to have to tell her. "It's just not all staying down."

Winry opened her mouth to ask why, but he saw the understanding dawn almost at once. "Your ports are bothering you."

Ed nodded. "This is the warmest, and driest, I've been since September."

"How often have you been throwing up?" Winry's expression had turned stern.

"Just once every day or two," Ed admitted, though it sounded more impressive than it seemed. The time between each seemed so much longer on the front. So much happened in a day. "Usually in the morning."

"Which means you're losing at least a quarter of your needed nutrition," Winry shook her head. "No wonder you're so thin." She sat up. "I guess I'll have to make sure to get us a big breakfast then. You're feeling better now?"

Ed nodded. After the last few days of comfortable travel, the aches were no more than they were at home this time of year; dull, and not particularly nauseating. "Much."

While Winry went out and fetched breakfast, Ed took the opportunity to take a good long hot soak in the tub. It was a luxury after weeks of essentially sponge-bathing to keep from freezing. Ed washed and conditioned his hair thoroughly, and gave himself a good scrubbing – twice – when the first bathwater started to turn slightly murky. He had done his best to stay clean out there, but there was only so much he could really do when staying dry was an important part of survival. He missed civilization.

He also went ahead and took the luxury of shaving. When he was done, he no longer looked like a vagabond old man. Sorry, Dad. I still don't like looking anything like you. Though truth be told, he looked older than his father with it now. His dad's body had never aged this far.

Ed had left most of his clean civvies with Winry. He hadn't needed them to the West. So he was glad to drag on warm sweats and a t-shirt, covered by a long-sleeved red and black flannel for warmth, and thick woolen socks.

When Winry returned, her first reaction was a delighted smile. "Now that's much better," she teased as she laid out a large breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast with plum jam and butter, cinnamon muffins, orange juice, and coffee with cream and sugar. There wasn't a warm gloppy grain-based cereal in sight, and it all smelled like it had real flavors.

"I'm in heaven," Ed gasped as he took the larger of the two plates – heaped high enough for two people by itself and obviously meant for him! "This is…fantastic," he mumbled around the first mouthful of eggs and sausage.

"Now I know you've been starved if you think military cooking is good," Winry chuckled. "I did remember in a letter you complaining about the oatmeal, so I didn't bother."

"I knew I loved you for a reason," Ed teased, continuing to eat. It had been so long since he felt this good, and his hunger came back with a vengeance! It only took a few minutes before he had completely cleaned the plate. It was all he could do to resist licking off the sausage grease. He still had some manners. He also drank two glasses of juice before he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, sipping a cup of coffee. Not mess-sludge, but real coffee. It even had a hint of hazelnut. "Okay, this is not military standard coffee, where did you get this?"

"The hospital kitchen was left stocked when they abandoned the building," Winry admitted. "The doctors and auto-mail mechanics have access to some of the supplies and that includes much better coffee. I thought you'd prefer that one."

That was it; he had definitely married an angel. Ed smiled, and sipped again appreciatively. He tried to stifle a yawn, but failed miserably. With a full stomach; warm and clean, with the thick mattress underneath him, it was tempting to just go back to sleep. "I do, thanks. How much longer before you have to go?"

"I should have already left," Winry admitted. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll see how early I can get off, but I'll probably be gone for a while. You stay here and take it easy okay? If you get bored there are a couple of paperbacks in my purse."

"Bored or desperate," Ed teased. "Thanks, Winry."

"You're welcome." Her hand lingered a moment on his before she stood reluctantly. "I'll see you later."

Ed fully intended to read a book, or maybe try a very light workout – stretches mostly – to work out the kinks. That was his intention, but by the time he set down the empty coffee cup he was already starting to doze off. He took the hint. A morning nap was probably a good idea.

Ed did not awaken again until he heard knocking on the door. "Who is it?" he asked blearily. Slowly he opened his eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was noon already.

The door opened and a grinning and familiar face came through first, followed by the rest of his son carrying a large covered tray. "It's me," Ethan commented as he stepped in and kicked the door shut with one foot behind him. "Mom thought you might be hungry again by now and I wanted to say hi."

Ed couldn't help grinning. It was good to see a smiling face, especially Ethan's! He noticed that his son was also wearing the knitted gloves and scarf Lia had made for him back in college. "Well it's good to see you too," he replied. "And, as usual, your mother is right." Even though the last thing he had done today before falling asleep was eat, he was definitely starting to feel hungry again. "What's for lunch?"

Lunch turned out to be two huge turkey club sandwiches with all the fixings, pickles, chips, an orange soda, and a couple of chocolate chip cookies. There were also Ethan's own additions to the tray; a bottle of vitamins and a vial that Ed suspected held Ethan's Ed-approved painkiller.

"You don't expect me to take those do you?" Ed asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

"The vitamins are not optional," Ethan smirked. "Mom said you'd been having issues from your ports. If you're losing meals you're losing nutrients. Take one a day, even after you get back out on the front. There's enough there to last you at least two months."

There were worse things to take. "And that?"

"If you're in enough pain that you're that bad off, you need to treat it, Dad," Ethan replied, his expression more firm. "Not all the time, but on really bad days, take a dose. You shouldn't be in that much pain. I'll make sure to send some back when you go and tell Ganns it's just for you specifically, or other auto-mail patients having serious weather-related complications."

"What about you?" Ed asked. "How've you been doing?"

"Wearing my gloves," Ethan snickered, holding up one black-sheathed hand. "My hand aches a little most days, but not enough to make me sick."

"That's good." Ed was relieved to hear it. He worried about his son's health, and not without reason, but right now Ethan looked healthier than he was; meaning much better considering! "Have you heard from Lia recently?"

"Just a few days ago," Ethan nodded, his expression brightening immediately. "She wrote me another five page letter about everything she's been up to, and the family. You can read the first four later if you want."

"What about page five?" Ed enjoyed watching his son's ears turn slightly pink.

"Lia likes to leave the private stuff for the last page, so I can share the rest with family," he admitted.

Ed had received a few letters like that in his life… from Winry of course. He'd written a few too. "I know how that goes," he grinned. "Sure, I'd love to hear what's been going on. I get almost nothing lately." Not that it was anyone's fault. They were all busy after all, and the people most likely to write him were on the front, working hard. "Have you seen Sara recently?"

"A few weeks ago," Ethan said. "The alchemists assigned to the area are through here every little while to get patched up or on a day of leave if they've got the time. Sara always comes back if she can make it."

Of course she would. Franz was still stationed in North City. "So she's not been badly injured recently." Kane would have told him, but it was nice to verify.

"Nothing serious," Ethan shook his head. "She's never out of action for more than a few days if that."

That was his girl. "And Aldon?"

"Unhurt so far," Ethan smiled. "He might be through here in the next few days. I think he's got leave coming up soon."

That would be nice. Ed would be glad to see any of his children that he could up here. Seeing them with his own eyes was the best way to assuage his worries. Sometimes written reports just weren't good enough. They chatted until Ethan needed to get back for his next shift in the hospital.

"So, do you need this now?" Ethan asked, gesturing to the vial as he stood up with the tray.

Ed shook his head. "No, I feel pretty good right now."

"You're not just saying that."

"No, I mean it," Ed promised. "Geez, you nag worse than your mother."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ethan grinned. "I've been dubbed the official nag by General Breda. I've been checking in on anyone I can. It's amazing how you guys don't fall apart every time you're out of Central."

"Who says we don't?" Ed pointed out good-naturedly.

Ethan nodded. "You have a point."

It took all of Winry's patience to work through the entire day, but as soon as she left Edward in the morning she was inundated with work. On top of needing to build him a new leg almost entirely from scratch, she was asked to assist in two surgeries – only one auto-mail related – had four patients in need of minor repairs, and the news that three more were being trucked in from the front for emergency repairs, none of which would take more than an hour, but that still took three more hours out of her day. She had been grateful when Ethan offered to take Ed lunch, and even more so when he brought her some on the return trip! So she pushed through, and was finally finished about half an hour after she normally ate dinner.

Tired, cold, and eager to check on Ed, she hurried straight back to the hotel-turned-officer's-barracks room. When she opened the door, she stopped, staring.

In the middle of the room was a small table, complete with a vase of flowers – red and white roses - and long, drippy candles. Soft music came from an old radio in the corner, and the only thing that seemed out-of-place from a nice restaurant was the fact that Ed was standing beside it, leaning a little on one of the chairs, in casual clothes. He was smiling though. "So, what do you think, Winry?"

"It's… wonderful," she smiled back, amazed. "How did you manage to do all this?"

"We have a son who doesn't mind doing the footwork for the old man," Ed winked, hobbling forward.

She met him half way in a hug and a kiss. "What's the occasion?"

"Us," Ed winked as he kissed her again. "And the fact that it's almost a new year."

That was true! Tomorrow was the start of the New Year. With all her work and the constant chaos, she found it far too easy to lose track of the day of the week, let alone the exact date. "How sweet. You didn't invite Ethan to the festivities?" She noticed only two covered plates of food.

"I offered actually," Ed admitted. "He said he had some plans with a couple of friends if he got off his shift before midnight. It looks like it's just you and me tonight."

"Are you complaining?" Winry teased as they turned towards the table. As much as she would have loved to have had all of her children here tonight, she would be grateful for the opportunity to have Edward at all, and to herself, when barely a day ago she had no idea if she would ever see him alive again. Tonight, they had each other. She paused and looked at the wine-style bottle on the table; sparkling apple cider. Ethan really is good at finding what he needs.

"Of course I'm not complaining," Ed smiled as he insisted on pulling out a chair for her. "I'm glad you like it. I would have done more myself, but I napped until Ethan showed up, and passed out again for another couple of hours this afternoon." He looked a little embarrassed as he sat down across from her.

"Good," Winry smiled. He obviously needed the sleep. Curious, she uncovered her plate. Dinner turned out to be simple, but tasty; beef in a burgundy sauce with steamed vegetables. There was even a baked custard dessert. "This looks great."

"Ethan said there's at least one decent restaurant in town that's open. It doesn't get much business, but the owner refuses to leave," Ed explained as he picked up silverware and started eating. "So he made a pick-up request for me."

"Well I may have to see that they get a little more business," Winry smiled as she took a bite of the vegetables. It wasn't the fanciest cuisine she had ever had, but it was tasty. Compared to eating what the military supplied the medical staff for free, it was fine dining! "Most of us in the hospital are getting a little tired of military cooking."

"Tired of the grease?" Ed asked with a knowing grin.

"Some of us like greens," Winry confirmed. "There's nothing wrong with eating healthy food, and it's not like we're the ones running around out there all day."

"Thank goodness." Ed's expression softened. His gaze lingered until he seemed to realize he was just staring. He started, then reached out and took the bottle of sparkling cider. Ed opened it and filled the two cups he had also dug up from somewhere. He slid one across the table and held his up in a toast. "To our family's continued health and safety…and to you, for keeping me going all this time by knowing what I need, whether it's food, love, or a good smack in the head."

Winry felt a tear in the corner of her eye. She held up her own cup. The chipped blue mug could have been fine crystal in that moment. It was just as grand as far as she was concerned. "To our family's continued health and safety… and to you, for giving me love, purpose, and support."

They both knew what to say next. "I love you."

Tore was whistling as he sidled up to Cal in front of the bonfire going in the large empty space in the middle of one of the circles of tents. The night was cold, but for once it wasn't snowing and the ground around the fire had thawed to the point where it was half dry instead of nothing but muck. Yet it wasn't the fire that made everyone feel more cheerful, but the celebration going on tonight of a rather solid victory that morning and the holiday itself. Despite the blow to the alchemists several days before, the Amestrians had continued to push the Drachmans back, and they were retreating at a greater pace. So the last few days had involved more marching than anything else to keep up until that morning, when they had soundly tromped the Drachman line when the enemy made a hasty attempt to dig into a new location and make a stand.

They were winning! At least on this front. That was cause enough for celebration. It made the outlook for the coming year better too.

"Hey buddy," Tore grinned at Cal, who was hanging out with a couple of the other State Alchemists, though they were well into the mix of regular soldiers – Amestrian and Cretan alike. Anyone who had been able to find some had a drink, or was passing it around to share a few sips with their buddies nearby. Tore hoped to get a sip off at least one of them sometime. But for now, he flipped open a pocket and dropped his catch of the day in Cal's open hand. "Paying you back."

Cal looked down at the pack of cigarettes and chuckled. "Where'd you score these?"

"One of the Cretan supply trucks," Tore said. "Now if he'd had some booze left over we'd be set."

"Someone say booze?" Finn asked with a slightly goofy grin as he sauntered over. Tore liked the other alchemist. He was between Tore and Cal in age, but he fit well in their band of friends. So had his buddy Lordes until his unfortunate death. Since then, Tore had to admit he worried about Finn sometimes. The other alchemist seemed okay, but he was a little more reckless.

"Yeah, what of it?" Tore asked.

Finn held up a couple of good sized bottles and beamed. "What's a celebration without quality libation? My old man sent me a present."

Cal's eyes lit up. "The good stuff, huh?"

"Only the best," Finn nodded. "Here you go fellas." He handed one bottle to Cal. "Sorry to say you'll have to split, but enjoy!"

"Oh we will," Cal nodded, taking hold of the bottle. "Thanks, Finn!"

"Think nothin' of it," Finn waved off the thanks. "Just celebrate!"

"What is it?" Tore asked curiously. He didn't recognize the label on the bottle.

"Finn's father makes his own brews," Cal explained. "They're always hard, and they're always deliciously smooth. He's got some amazing combinations of flavor. Here," he popped open the bottle and took a swig. Tore watched as he closed his eyes, then shuddered slightly and opened them again. "Now that's just what I needed tonight. Try it."

Tore took the offered bottle and, feeling emboldened, tilted it up and took down a good swig. It was like drinking a mix of liquid caramel, cream, and whisky. It was smooth going down, but it had a nice warming kick at the end of the trip. "Oh I could get used to that."

"Don't," Cal snickered, taking the bottle back for another drink. "You'll miss it too much when it's gone."

Tore grinned. "So, then we'll have to hope Finn's generous father sends more."

"Never pegged you for an optimist," Cal laughed.

"Thought I might give it a try this year," Tore took the bottle back. "Who knows, maybe it'll work." Given how this year had gone so far, he could use a little optimism. Besides, the tide was turning. "I bet we'll have this war in the bag before tonight a year from now."

"I'll take that bet," Cal replied after a moment. "What's the stakes?"

Tore had to think about that one. "Oh, I know! Winner owes the loser one favor to be cashed in anytime, no questions asked and no argument."

"Wait…any favor?" Cal looked skeptical. "Like take your date without argument no questions asked?"

"Hadn't thought of that," Tore admitted. "But I like it! So what do you say? You confident enough to stake a favor on it?"

Cal took the bottle, took a long drink, and nodded. "This war… yeah, I'll take that bet."

"Done," Tore took Cal's hand and shook it.

"Done," Cal nodded seriously, though the expression was spoiled by a snicker. "C'mon, let's finish this bottle before someone else wants to share."

Tore followed him closer to the fire as the night drew closer to midnight. It wasn't where he would have chosen to spend a New Year's celebration, and nothing like the parties held in Central, but he was surrounded by comrades, good cheer, and hope. He felt his confidence grow. This year, the war would end. He refused to believe otherwise.