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Riza had seen Edward Elric at his very worst– his breaking point, if you will. Eleven years old, completely despondent and silent. He hadn’t said a word to either her nor Roy. He’d sat in a pregnant, despairing quiet as Roy explained their options. For the most part he’d kept his eyes fixed on his lap or the table, though he’d occasionally spared Roy a glance when he addressed him specifically.
He was listening.
Riza hadn’t believed that boy would ever come back from the ordeal. She’d voiced that concern to Roy on their way back from Resembool, but the man had dismissed it entirely. He thought Edward would bounce back, that he would take the exam and become a state alchemist. If not for himself, then for Alphonse.
She trusted his judgement– if Roy Mustang was anything, it was a good judge of character. It’d gotten them quite far, after all. Reading people came easily to him, and he used that to his advantage every day. While others would be inclined to view the behaviour as ass-kissing, Riza knew better than that.
She knew him. So, she believed him.
A year later, and Edward Elric bounded into the office with Alphonse at his side, a little silver watch jammed deep into his red coat pocket. He was so very different from the little boy sitting in the far too-large wheelchair, both in body and spirit. He was trading jabs with Roy easily, demanding information about the Philosopher's Stone while Alphonse tried to reel his little-big brother in. It damn near gave her whiplash, the stark difference between her last and only memory of him as compared to the boy in front of her. He didn’t hunch his back meekly, he didn’t stare into space and he spoke both loud and bluntly.
The only real give away that this was the same boy that she had met previously was the way he seemed to favour his right leg over his left, putting just a bit more weight on it than the other. It was no surprise– he technically shouldn’t be up and moving so much given his automail would still be relatively fresh. It was what– three or four years of recovery recommended before engaging in physically taxing movement? Here he was, a year later moving with no regard to healing wounds. It was impressive how quickly he’d adapted and overcome such a debilitating life change. Many people older and more experienced couldn’t handle the pain and stress of relearning to function using automail, and here this twelve year old boy was, throwing a big fuck you to everyone who thought he couldn’t succeed.
From then on, Riza knew not to doubt Edward Elric’s abilities– not even for a moment.