4. Grave

Riza looked up from her paperwork as the train came to a fairly fast stop. Other people sat up sharply, jolted and confused. Across from her, Roy came to more slowly, his eyes blinking owlishly. He sat up, stretching, and then looked back and forth down the aisle.

"Why have we stopped?"

"I don't know, sir," Riza said truthfully, equally puzzled. They had set out from East City a few hours earlier, on their way back to Ishval. The week spent at Eastern Headquarter had been fruitful but incredibly busy, and Riza was still trying to catch up. Their request to build a train line to Ishval had been granted, as well as a supplemental budget increase, but her exhilaration didn't help much with the mountain of paperwork that now had to be filled out.

"I'm going to go check," Roy declared, quickly doing up his discarded jacket and standing. He seemed uncertain whether to travel down the train or up it, but at that moment the porter appeared, looking harried. "Ladies and gentlemen," he shouted over the bustle of confusion, "I must apologize. We have temporarily broken down. The engineer is already working on it and it will be fixed, but we will be delayed."

The rest of his message was drowned out by several angry passengers. Riza sighed internally and turned back to her paperwork. As members of the senior military staff they always traveled first-class, and one thing she had learned over the years was that other first-class passengers could be terrible to travel with.

She realized a few seconds later that Roy was still standing in the aisle. She glanced up quizzically to find him staring intensely out the window. The expression on his face was one she had rarely encountered before, and she was unsettled to realize she wasn't sure what to make of it. Suddenly, he took off down the aisle to join the group of people accosting the porter. The porter noticed him immediately, and stopped mid-sentence to salute. "General!"

Riza stood, accurately predicting that all eyes would turn to Roy as soon as his title was announced. She moved forward as several people began to try to gain Roy's attention instead of the porter's, but Roy ignored them. "Where are we?"

The porter looked perplexed. "About two hours south of East City, sir."

"Do you know the name of the nearest town?"

The porter looked out the window, his brows furrowed. "I believe, sir, that we're close to Lohne."

A small smile broke out on Roy's face. Riza watched him curiously as she took her place by his side. "How long did you say we'd be stopped?"

"At least an hour, sir."

"Brilliant." Roy turned to Riza, still grinning. "We're going for a walk, Captain."

She stared at him. "Sir?"

"A walk. You and me. Grab your things."

A panicked look crossed the porter's face. "Sir, we're really not supposed to-"

"We'll be back before the hour is up," Roy said, placing his hat on his head. "If anyone complains, tell them they can talk to General Roy Mustang when we return."

Riza was incredibly perplexed. Roy was occasionally spontaneous, but she couldn't think of anything quite as odd as pulling them off a train for a walk in the middle of nowhere before. "General, this isn't a good idea," she insisted.

"It's a fabulous idea," he countered, smiling at her. "Come on."

The porter opened the door. Riza took off her jacket, making sure her guns were all holstered. If Roy was going to go gallivanting off to the woods, she was going to make sure she was properly equipped.

He was in abominably good spirits, she decided shortly thereafter. Getting off the train had taken several more minutes, as passengers had rightly complained. Roy had managed to charm all of them eventually, though, so here they were, getting lost in the woods on what was supposed to be a paperwork-filled trip back to Ishval.

He didn't seem lost, though. He was moving quite purposefully, checking direction every so often. Riza had to admit she was curious. He'd never mentioned this town. In fact, she realized, as they continued on their path, he said only a little about the time before he came to study with her father, and that had been a long time ago. She was one of the few who knew about his childhood with Madame Christmas and the girls. It was rare to encounter something about Roy Mustang that left her utterly clueless.

In surprisingly short time, the woods cleared. Across a few grassy fields Riza could see farms and a town. Roy continued in that direction, but before they reached it he veered left on a path into the forest again.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not for the first time.

"All those times you told me patience is a virtue," he teased. "We're almost there."

A few hundred feet later on, and she finally realized where they were going as they reached an iron gate. Riza looked at him, a question written on her face, but he ignored her, pushing the gate open. He strode purposefully away again, and again she followed. The purposefully cheerful grin on his face had slipped, replaced by a more introspective gaze. Near the northeast corner of the cemetery, he slowed, reading the name on each stone as he passed them. Riza was quiet, waiting for the purpose behind this mission to be revealed.

Eventually, he stopped, facing two headstones side-by-side. Riza stopped next to him, and by now, having guessed what was going on, was unsurprised to see the names Eric Mustang and Li-Hua Mustang. The death date was the same for both: Sept. 24, 1892.

Roy had only spoken of his parents once, in halting whispers at night while her father slept in his study. They'd both been a little tipsy off poorly-hidden whiskey, and he'd told her of the train accident, the caskets, his inability to understand at such a young age what had happened, how his aunt from Central had taken him in. She'd all but forgotten. She wondered if this was the first time he'd been back here since then.

He was silent for so long she began to worry, but then cleared his throat. The wind blew softly. "Mom, dad," he said. "Hi." He lapsed into silence again for a bit. Riza stayed still, comfortable from years of military training, waiting to see what this was all about.

Suddenly, he fumbled awkwardly with his hands, and she realized he was removing his gloves. He shoved them into a pocket, then half-turned to her. Roy Mustang was blushing.

His hand was cool and a little sweaty in hers as he grasped her right hand in his left, squeezing a little too tight at first. He turned back to the gravestones, opened his mouth, and nothing came out. Swallowing loudly, he tried again. "I wanted to introduce you," he announced. "This…" he paused, as though struggling for the right words. She squeezed back, and felt him relax.

His voice, when he said it, was filled with incredibly deep warmth. "This," he said again, pride coloring the tone, "is my Lieutenant."