hmm WELL I haven't touched this since the last time I updated lmao that's not to say I haven't been writing; I've been, and that other royai fanfic is turning out to be a good writing practice.

Anyways, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that Edward Elric was bornon 1899. It's a bit of info to give the story some background, if you get what I'm trying to say? Also, on Monday the live action will be aired on Netflix and I'm! Excited!

Enjoy!

Utwahay, 1899

Riza tried to stick to the shadows that fell on the sidelines of the road as she walked back home from another day of school. The long sleeves of her shirt protected her from Utwahay's usual harsh summer sun, but in exchange, it made her feel overly hot and suffocated. Still, it was better to sweat and get red in the face for some minutes than sport a worrisome sunburn that would surely earn her a lecture from her father if he ever noticed it.

The soil was once again dry and dust picked up with every step she took. There had yet to be predictions about whether or not it would take too long for rain to grace their town. Thankfully, the crops on her backyard were small enough that she could water them daily, but she worried for other townspeople that depended on their harvest. It was thanks to them that she had gotten seeds and seedlings to start her own vegetable garden.

She slowed to a stop and turned to a tree by the side of the road. Every year, the best apples she could find came from this tree that had many fruits for her to pick. Already, her mind was wondering what she could do if she got her hands on a couple of them. A pie sounded like a good idea, and maybe Roy could help her out a bit if needed. Riza used to help her mom in the kitchen when she was still alive, and it was only for that reason that she managed to pull off her meals quite well for someone so young. Yeah, her food was a little bland, but if she asked Miss Sorelia nicely enough, Riza was sure she could get some seedlings of thyme and other spices.

Her hand disappeared into her mailbag to retrieve the slingshot she took so long to make. Roy said he could try to transmute one for her, but he had yet to start his practical classes and she wanted to be busy with something that was not homework or house chores. Riza crouched down to take a few pebbles in her hand and put them in the pocket of her dress, except for one. Putting it in place, she drew back the strap and took aim.

Riza held that position for quite a while. If anyone saw her, they would surely think her father was rubbing off on her. She was not oblivious to the way they talked about him and his ways, though these statements were accompanied by praises on his intellect, which was very contradicting. She allowed her heart to calm and breathed in deeply, until she could no longer hear the sounds of nature nor feel the wind in her hair. Riza did not get her shots right most of the time, but she never let her failures stop her from trying.

After one final intake of breath, she held the air in her lungs and released the string. The pebble soared and hit its target: the little stem connecting the fruit to the branch. The apple fell down on the grass below, and Riza grinned at her small victory. Quickly, she retrieved another rock from her pocket and prepared to take aim again.

stjerneklart; origin: Norwegian

(adj.) a dark, quiet and clear sky in which the light is filled and illuminated only by stars.

It wasn't as much of an ungodly hour as it could've been when Riza found herself in the kitchen on top of her stool by the counter peeling apples. The red skin fell in ribbons on the cool surface, and she nibbled on those occasionally as she worked the sharp knife around the fruit carefully.

It was one of those nights in which she tossed and turned in bed, but couldn't sleep, and staring at the ceiling was making her antsy, so she decided to do something until she was exhausted. Reading had always been a good way to pass time, even if she didn't understand all of the fancy words in her father's alchemy books, but tonight she had a feeling that it wouldn't be enough. Riza needed something that would have her moving until she was tired enough to lie down and fall asleep immediately.

She had found the recipe in the bottom drawer in the kitchen and hoped she'd manage to do justice to her mother's pie. The dough was already in the fridge and she was taking her sweet time to prepare the filling so it would have enough time to cool. She didn't ask Roy to help her because he was deeply immersed in one of his books when she'd gone to bid him goodnight, and she didn't want to disturb him. Every day, she remembered when her father had told her that he wouldn't be staying in their house so they could be having fun, so she always stopped herself short from trying to get too close to him, despite the comfort she felt around him and the way he actively sought her out.

It made her a little sad, to be honest. She had a few colleagues at school and some that she dared call friends, but none of them was too close to her. Roy had come along just last year, and although they spent little leisure time together in between his studying, already it felt like they knew each other for years. It certainly didn't make sense, but she enjoyed his company immensely.

Riza stepped away from the stool to get some butter from the fridge and a large skillet. The house was silent aside from the occasional creaking of some windows and little animals the surrounded the place. She'd have to be extra careful not to make any noise and disturb anyone. At this point, she didn't know if the two alchemist were awake or not, and if she had to guess, she'd say that Roy must have fallen asleep in the library again, but there was no way of knowing what her father was doing unless she went upstairs to check for herself. The late hour wouldn't be the reason why he'd be mad at her if she did make any loud noise. There were two things that would get her in big trouble: skipping school and disturbing her father.

With the filling now set aside to cool and smelling delicious, Riza washed some of the dishes and sat on a chair to wait until she could finish making the pie. With her chin on her hand and kicking her legs beneath the table, she let her mind wander until it eventually brought her to a trip down memory lane. It was in times like this when her mother would place her on her lap and weave little braids in her blonde hair. They were too much alike, from the shade of their tresses to the shoulder length haircut. After her passing, it used to hurt to look at her reflection in the mirror, and without her mother to take care of her hair, her father kept it short because it was easier for Riza to look after it herself.

She crossed her arms on the tabletop and rested her cheek upon them. She hadn't cried over her mother in a long time and she was not about to do that now. Sometimes, Riza wondered if her father didn't look her too much in the eye because she reminded him too much of her. She honestly couldn't remember what he was like before the passing of her mother, if he was a better man or if he'd always been like this. It was unlikely that her mother would be attracted to someone so aloof, she being so warm and bright, but one would never know what brought them together.

"Riza?" The girl lifted her head to look at the clock – fifteen minutes had gone by – and then looked back at the source of the voice at the door. "Why are you still awake?"

A smile twisted her lips and she tried not to snicker. Roy was rubbing his eyes tiredly, trying to keep them open, which was proving to be difficult. "Couldn't sleep." She replied instead, masking the amusement out of her voice with her usual quiet tone.

He hummed and dropped his hands by his side, and then sniffed the air as if he hadn't noticed before the smell of apple, sugar and cinnamon that lingered in the room, which he probably hadn't considering how sleepy he seemed. "What are you doing?"

By the time he stepped into the kitchen, Riza was already rolling open half the dough on the counter and preparing to place it on the baking dish. "A pie," she said as he tugged the recipe closer to him with two fingers and squinted at the yellowish paper.

"Do you need any help?"

She shook her head. "I think I've got it."

"Okay." A yawn distorted his reply and he patted her shoulder absentmindedly. "I'm going to shower, then. I'll be back in a few."

Riza barely heard as he went up the stairs, concentrated as she was in placing the filling without spilling anything and making a bigger mess. The oven had already been set to preheat and hot air blew into her face as she set the dish inside. It would truly be an ungodly hour by the time this was golden and cool enough to eat, and by then she'd have to be extra silent. Riza cleaned up what she had dirtied now and sat on the steps of the backdoor to wait.

When the cool air of the outside touched her face, the girl realized just how hot it was in the kitchen. Rolling up her sleeves as far as they'd go, Riza perched her chin on her fists and looked around the darkness of her backyard. It was a common fear among children, the dark, and she didn't know if her classmates grew out of it. It had been a while since she felt fear towards something intangible, and now what plagued her were scenarios with a face and name, most of which revolved around her father and, just recently, Roy Mustang.

A few years back when her mother was still alive, she'd come to her rescue when she had nightmares or a thunderstorm started at any time of the day, holding her close as she shivered in fright and petting her hair until she calmed down. Her father didn't do such things, and Riza quickly learned that she should suck it up and deal with it.

She wondered about Roy's family more than she should. Try as she might to keep her distance to make her father happy, she felt an urge to get to know him personally. She had a feeling something good could come out of this. He sometimes mentioned his mother and aunt, and often got letters from Chris Mustang. Was Chris one of them? Were mother and aunt the same person or not? What about his father; whatever happened to him? Did he have siblings? What about his life in Central in general?

Well, Riza supposed, she wouldn't delve into this particular topic unless he came to her first. She was sure he had his own questions.

The subject of her musings entered the kitchen some minutes later and quietly sat down beside her on the concrete steps. His hair was damp and he smelled of soap, the smell easily reaching her nose thanks to the constant breeze. He let out a sight and propped his elbows on the step behind them, reclining as much as possible as his dark eyes swept along the sky.

"You don't see as many stars in Central."

Riza cast him a glance before looking up as well. She could imagine that the many city lights would ruin the view. Here by the countryside starry nights like this were so usual that, sometimes, people just forgot to appreciate them. Riza was guilty of that, but the sight could work wonders to calm her down in the times she got anxious or upset over something.

She looked back at Roy and studied his profile as he intently watched the sky as if the stars could disappear at any moment. He wasn't so much older than her and already was studying hard to be an alchemist. Why he wanted to be one, he never told her, but she figured it was a good reason, because her father had never taken any apprentices before and he was here now. Roy was working hard to deliver, reading book after book and turning in his essays before the set timeline.

"What is Central like?"

Roy turned his head in her direction and took while to respond. "Central is big, much bigger than Utwahay. There are many buildings and cars on the streets, many people walking about, too. It has a great variety of things to do, from parks to museums to places to eat."

She nodded mutely and played with the hem of her dress. Riza could only imagine the places based on what he had just said and few pictures she saw on the newspaper. Her father had never taken her out of Utwahay; he liked it here because it was small, peaceful, and hardly bothered by the military. On the off chance that he did leave the city, but left her behind, he never answered her questions about the towns and cities he visited or things he'd seen along the way.

"Central has some downsides, too." He went on, black eyes once again focused on the shining dots overhead. "The air isn't as fresh as it is here. Too many people and too many cars mean you'll be late for appointments. The botanical garden is pretty but nature untouched as we see here," he waved at the trees that lined the end of her backyard, "is much more beautiful."

Riza smiled a little and stood up to head back inside the kitchen, just now remembering that there was a pie in the oven. The crust was golden and she placed the dish on a rack to cool down, and Roy wandered back inside as if he had been called by the smell of the food. He hummed appreciatively and presented her with a large grin. "I can't wait to eat this."

She flushed slightly at his excitement and together they set up the table for two, pouring milk in glasses and making a little small talk until their patience ran out and they couldn't wait any longer to try it. Carefully, he cut the first slice and lifted it, steam spiraling up and intensifying the delicious scent of cinnamon and a little touch of nutmeg. And then, before she could take a bite, Roy proposed they head back outside to enjoy the view again.

It probably was the best thing they had done yet. On a list of interactions that she liked the most, this was definitely the number one. They sat cross-legged on the grass by the rose bushes, the coolness of the wind on their faces and the warmth of the pie in their mouths. Crickets singing nearby created a soothing tune that played in the background of their mindless chatting. The blades of grass danced along her shin, and Roy repeatedly mentioned that it was the best thing she had baked so far. Riza smiled secretly at her half-eaten slice of pie, happy that she had managed to recreate her mother's recipe well.

Another slice more for her, and two other for Roy, and they set their plates aside in favor of lying down and watching the stars. It was... nice. Very nice, indeed, just spending some time together and strengthening the bond they had. Riza wanted nothing more than to let go and allow him to become her friend, her best friend. She wanted more than just sharing the coffee table as they did their homework, more than the times they'd sit together to read, more than the occasional game of chess they'd play as dinner cooked.

He made her laugh with stories and jokes, and they tried to find shapes in the stars, or tried to identify constellations. She wanted more of this, craved even. It couldn't hurt to let him closer, even if he was going to leave eventually; she was sure they could keep in touch then.

Her biggest fear was her father and the way he would react, but she reasoned whilst watching Roy's eyes slip closed as he laughed at some silly thing she said, that they could be good friends if they knew exactly when it was time to be serious and study, and when they could freely joke and play around. Berthold couldn't expect Riza not to bond with his one and only student, especially when she spent more time around Roy than with her own dad.

As their laughter died down and weariness settled in, the duo slowly picked themselves up from the ground and walked back inside. Riza locked the door and returned some things to where they belonged whist Roy scrubbed at the dirty dishes and placed them on the draining rack. They slowly inched their way up the staircase, mindful of the steps that creaked under added weight, until they could breathe a little easier standing on the top floor. Roy stopped by his door and waited until she reached hers. Flashing her a grin, they disappeared simultaneously into their respective rooms.

Riza changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, pulling the thin sheets over her body and turning to lie on her side, her back to the door. Staring at the wall, she tried to find any kind of fault in her reasoning. If they split their time well and stuck to it, no one would be upset; not Roy for playing instead of studying, not her for knowing that she was being a bother, and not her father for thinking they were both slacking. Satisfied, she snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes, easily falling asleep.