Fandom The Ironheart Alchemist

[Damien Hughes]

Chapter 1: Promises

One Year After the Promised Day​

In the oppressive grip of the night, Roy Mustang found himself ensnared within the suffocating tendrils of his own subconscious, caught in a web of relentless memories from the Ishvalan War. As he lay in his bed, the twisted sheets wrapped around his form like the ethereal fingers of guilt, he could almost taste the acrid tang of smoke that clawed at his throat, choking him with its bitter embrace—a haunting reminder of the infernos that had ravaged the once-thriving land of Ishval.


In the depths of his restless slumber, Roy was transported back to the scorching sands of Ishval, where the blistering sun beat down upon the scorched earth with unrelenting fury. The horizon shimmered with waves of heat, mirroring the searing agony that tore through his soul with every recollection of the atrocities he had committed. The very air crackled with tension, thick with the stench of charred flesh and the lingering scent of burning rubble.


Within the fevered depths of his nightmare, Roy's mind became a canvas upon which the horrors of war were painted in vivid hues of despair. He saw the faces of the innocent Ishvalans, their eyes wide with terror and disbelief as they fell beneath the merciless onslaught of his alchemy. Each flickering flame served as a damning accusation, condemning him for the lives he had taken and the families he had torn asunder in the name of duty and ambition.


As the nightmarish tableau unfolded before him, Roy found himself engulfed in a maelstrom of fire and chaos, becoming the very embodiment of the merciless flame alchemy he had wielded with devastating efficiency. He watched in silent horror as the flames consumed everything in their path, leaving naught but ash and ruin in their wake. The anguished cries of the innocent echoed in his ears, a haunting melody that threatened to drive him to the brink of madness.


One event, in particular, seared his soul—a moment etched in his memory forever—the sight of a child, a young boy who had picked up a rifle to try to shoot one of those under his command. Roy watched, frozen, as the child's body burned, bubbled, and boiled away, an image forever imprinted in his mind. The saddest part was that he hadn't even hesitated. He hadn't faltered, didn't pause for the briefest of seconds. With just an audible snap of his glove and the power he commanded, he had forever condemned himself.


At least it was quick. Painless. At least, that's the lie he had always told himself.


With a strangled cry, Roy tore himself from the clutches of sleep, his body drenched in a cold sweat as he struggled to shake off the lingering tendrils of his nightmare. Yet even as he gasped for breath in the harsh light of reality, he knew that the specter of Ishval would continue to haunt him, a grim reminder of the price of power and the weight of his sins. However, amidst the torment, he was quickly reminded of just how far he had truly come since the days of his youthful ignorance—a testament to his growth and resilience in the face of his haunting past.

In the dim light of the night, Roy Mustang gazed upon the sleeping form of his trusted assistant, Riza Hawkeye, curled up next to him. Her features were soft and peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within him. As he looked upon her, he noticed the burns on the alchemy sigil etched into her shoulder, a constant reminder of the events that had transpired in the Ishvalan War.


Roy's heart heavy with guilt, he traced his fingers over the burns tenderly, the sensation of her soft skin beneath his fingertips a stark reminder of the fragility of life. He couldn't help but wonder how he could have caused such harm, even if it was at Riza's request. The thought of inflicting pain on someone he cared about filled him with self-loathing.


As he gazed upon her sleeping form, the sound of her soft breathing interrupted Roy's thoughts. He felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him, and he gently laid down next to her, wrapping his arm around her protectively. He couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for the burns on her skin, the weight of his power, and the consequences of his actions bearing down upon him. How could he have hurt her like this, even if it was at her own request? The thought twisted in his mind, a knot of guilt and confusion. He questioned his actions, his choices, and the lengths he had gone to protect her. Was it worth it? Was he worth it?


Roy leaned in, his lips brushing against the burns as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Riza. My apologies aren't enough to make up for what I've done." He traced his fingers over the burns, the sensation of her skin beneath his fingertips a stark reminder of the fragility of life. He couldn't help but wonder how he caused such harm, even if it was at her request. The thought of inflicting pain on someone he cared about filled him with self-loathing. He was a pitiable man who never before had envied what he'd accomplished until the moment that began yesterday.

Now, he had something so precious within reach, and the fear of it being swiftly taken away terrified him. He remembered when his eyes were bandaged. He asked everyone to leave the room but Riza. She was the first thing he wanted and needed to see. After that moment, he realised things could and would never be the same. He tried to feign his feelings and affections, but whenever he was all alone, his heart ached; twisting and mangled inside his chest. But she, with her keen judgement of character in others, saw straight through his farce, and last night it had come to a boiling point, a fever pitch when she had confronted him on the matter...and as he had always done so many times before, he confronted her questioning with truths that he had clung to so dearly. They had come to Ishval to help with the reconstruction efforts, but it had taken a backseat to their feelings.

While few would dare call Riza 'weak', he knew well that she had a fragility about her. She was always wearing a mask for others. But when he admitted the truth and confessed all the things that were crushing him yet how she always lifted him up, he got to see the woman he had always loved from the time her father took him in to teach him alchemy. He may not have known then that he'd fallen for her. But he was beyond blessed.



nikoru

 

[nikoru]

The desert sands stretched endlessly before Riza, barren and scorched beneath the unrelenting sun. The air shimmered with heat, making the horizon ripple as if underwater. This bleak wasteland was hauntingly familiar, though Riza could not place why.

As she walked slowly across the dunes, the sand hot beneath her boots, the remains of a ruined city began to emerge. Toppled buildings and rubble lay strewn across the landscape, echoing with deathly silence. Then she saw them—bodies burnt almost beyond recognition, charred bones peering out from beneath blackened flesh. Riza froze as a wave of horrified understanding washed over her. This was Ishval, the ghost of the dead come back to haunt her. She wanted to run, to hide, but her legs were rooted in place.

Out of the smoldering ruins, a young Ishvalan boy stumbled into view, no older than ten. His red eyes were wide with terror, clothes tattered and skin streaked with ash. In his trembling hands he clutched a rifle. The boy raised the gun, pointing it unsteadily at Riza. She opened her mouth to cry out, but no sound emerged. She knew that she had run out of ammo so using her trusted weapons were out of the question, and she knew that she could not stomach killing this child with her bare hands. As she watched helplessly, the Flame Alchemist appeared beside her, face etched with cold determination. He snapped his fingers and a wave of flame erupted forth, engulfing the child in a tempest of heat and pain.

Riza felt her heart crush, a raw primal cry of anguish torn from her throat. The boy's accusing eyes bore into her as he burned, searing themselves into her mind. She sank to her knees as the boy's body slowly crumbled to dust before her.

Strong arms enveloped her, and she clung to Roy desperately. But as Riza wept into his chest, the uniform beneath her fingers changed, blue cloth replaced by a starch military coat. Looking up with a gasped sob, she found herself cradled, not in her Major Mustang's embrace, but in the arms of the Flame Alchemist—the cold, ruthless persona Roy adopted during the war.

He gazed down at her evenly, eyes devoid of warmth or compassion, the eyes of a killer. Riza scrambled back in horror, sand burning her hands and knees. "No," she choked out. "Not again...I won't let this happen again..."

Spoiler

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Riza jolted awake, cheeks wet with tears. Just a nightmare... she was facing away from the Colonel-promoted-to-Brigadier General as they shared the same bed. He was awake and tracing the scars etched in her back, the scars which he inflicted on her request.

"I'm so sorry, Riza. My apologies aren't enough to make up for what I've done," Roy whispered and caressed her as if she's the most fragile person in the world. She stayed quiet and tried to calm her breathing and her beating heart. He never called her by her name after they both entered the military, it was always Lieutenant or some weird nickname he conjured when they had investigations with the Mustang Unit.

She had longed him since the day she met him, when he applied as an apprentice under the tutelage of her father. She knew she had fallen hard, but she tried to hide it for the fear of being seen weak. Mustang had high hopes of being the Fuhrer of Amestris, and she wanted to be someone who could stand beside him once he reached that ambition.

His fingers danced lightly upon her back, each fingertip sparking through her skin and resonating within her. She sensed the disquiet churning within him—ghosts of the past emerging from the shadows to haunt his weary mind once more. It seemed like being in Ishval for the restoration project brought back these awful memories. She then looked at the Brigadier General face to face, a worried look evident in her tear-stained face.

"...Sir? What seems to be the problem?" she asked, not noticing that her voice sounded a bit hoarse from crying.

 

[Damien Hughes]

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As the weight of their shared past pressed upon the both of them, Roy had found solace in the simple act of stroking Riza's back. His fingertips, a fair bit softer than those of Riza, still had slight callouses; traced delicate patterns across her skin, each stroke a gentle caress that carried with it a depth of emotion words simply failed to express. With each movement, he sought to convey his remorse, his longing for forgiveness, and his unwavering commitment to protect her. As his hand glided along her spine, Roy felt the tension in Riza's body begin to melt away. His touch spoke volumes, offering a silent reassurance that he was there for her, that he would shoulder the burden of their shared history together. In the fluid motion of his hand, he sought to heal the wounds inflicted by his past actions, to mend the cracks in their souls, and to forge a path towards redemption.
Instantly alert to Riza's distress. His hand, still warm from the traces of her back, instinctively reached out to her. His left arm tucking itself between her bosom, his palm pressed to the exposed side of her throat while his fingers folded over her nape. With a tenderness born of love and protectiveness, he drew her trembling form closer, his touch a soothing balm against the raw edges of her nightmare. His fingers continued their gentle strokes along her warm flesh, a silent reassurance that he was there, and that she was safe in his arms. The rhythm of his touch matched the beating of his heart, a steady cadence that offered comfort and strength.

"Shhhhh...." Roy whispered softly past her ear. "I'm here, you are safe."

As Riza's racing pulse began to slow, she found solace in the warmth of Roy's embrace. She could perhaps feel the depth of his protectiveness radiating through every touch, every stroke along her spine with his right hand. In that moment, she understood the weight of his remorse, the haunting memories that plagued him. As Riza turned her head, Roy's eyes, filled with a mixture of regret and unwavering determination, met hers. It was as if he wanted to convey that while he couldn't change the past, but even if he could, he wouldn't take back the actions that haunted him. He would carry the burden of that moment, driven by an unyielding need to protect her at any cost.

"...Sir? What seems to be the problem?" Riza asked him, the truth revealed, her mask--the facade had been fractured exposing the much softer side of her character.

Roy smiled very gently at her, his left hand wiping her tears away. "Just...thinking." He responded as he dotingly pat her soft blond hair. "But you know, you're going to have to really work on just saying Roy and not saying 'Sir' or 'General'. Well, at least when it's just us that is." He teased Riza, giving her a rather delightfully if not smug grin.

"But....." He began, his eyes becoming more soberingly honest in their conveyance. "I meant what I said last night. Yes, I want to be Furher--someday. But I could never, and I say this emphatically, never be the best man or the one the people need without my queen. My most valued asset. My confidant and the person my heart will always and perhaps has always belonged. Let me make this abundantly clear: whatever hell we live through, no matter the cost--I will not lose you. Not on my watch. You and I will grow old. If becoming Furher means losing you, then I don't want it. I would be true to myself without your trust and loyalty."

 

[nikoru]

Riza could feel her heart thumping in her chest as the raven-haired man smiled wistfully. That reassuring smile of his shone brightly, erasing her doubts and worries that were tied in her hellish nightmare. Riza was a hopeless case, she had truly fallen hard for this man beside her over the years. She had fallen in love with every part of him: his charm, his charisma, his wits, his aspiration—and hell, even his annoyingly lax and flirty nature. She allowed herself be vulnerable in his embrace, thankful for the soothing touch that helped her calm down. Even the silly headpat was welcomed by the usually-stoic woman

She smiled at the Brigadier General as he made a remark about her calling him Sir. It was more of a formality in her case as she had known this man and served tirelessly for him and with him through the years. Although he asked her to drop it, it was hard to break the force of habit. She responded to his smug grin with a playful eye roll and an equally smug smile in her lips.

As Roy made his declarations of devotion to the Lieutenant, she felt that she was on the top of the world. Roy was not usually this serious when it came to relationships, he was never the type to settle down (or so it seems). Riza initially thought that the relationship between them was purely because of their assigned positions... or maybe it was a product of familiarity as the man served as an apprentice under her father. She thought that it was just a hopeless and one-sided longing, which was fine for her because she just wished to be by his side as he reached his dreams. After all, he trusted her to keep him in check and even ordered her to kill him should he cross the line. Riza Hawkeye was fortunate enough that Roy Mustang was devoted to her as she is to him, but she hit the jackpot once she confirmed that her feelingss were returned.

With these thoughts lingering in her mind, she looked at Roy longingly in the eyes before kissing him in the forehead. "I'll try to break the habit of calling you Sir," she whispered, now her voice more tender compared to when she just woke up. "How about... Roy-boy?" she said jokingly as she recalled Madam Christmas's nickname for him.

She snickered for a bit, because of her remark. Then her face became softer, brushing Roy's hair and tracing the features of his handsome face with her fingertips. "I think Love would suit you nicely, Roy."

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy Mustang's intense gaze locked with Riza's, his eyes ablaze with a mix of gratitude and admiration. The smugness that once graced his smile had faded, replaced by an overwhelming appreciation for her unwavering loyalty that emanated from his very being. He treasured her years of devoted service and the immense trust she had bestowed upon him. Their unspoken bond demanded recognition. Roy closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, silently acknowledging his own doubts about deserving her unwavering loyalty.

In a tender and intimate gesture, Riza leaned forward, her fair locks cascading around her as she pressed her plush lips against his forehead. It was a gentle caress that seemed to speak volumes, as if she had delved into the depths of his soul and found his deepest insecurities, seeking to reassure him. Her voice, dripping with generosity and affection, whispered softly, "I'll try to break the habit of calling you Sir."

Her words enveloped him in a velvety warmth, akin to the comforting embrace of the morning sun. Roy's expression transformed into one of sheer disbelief as he processed her next question. "How about... Roy-boy?" she teased, her eyes dancing mischievously, igniting a playful spark between them.

A groan escaped Roy's lips, a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He buried his face in the pillow, his voice muffled as he muttered, "Yep, walked right into that..."

Riza chuckled victoriously, reveling in her playful victory over Roy. His begrudging glare and pout only fueled her amusement. With a tender touch, she brushed his dark hair away from his steely eyes, her voice laced with affection. "I think Love would suit you nicely, Roy."

A slow grin spread across Roy's face, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Oh...? You think so?" he asked, feigning innocence. But his intentions were far from innocent as he slowly crawled towards her, every movement infused with a mischievous energy that sent a shiver down Riza's spine.

It took Riza a moment to comprehend his playful spitefulness. As he slid between her thighs, hovering above her, his hungry gaze bore into hers, his eyes filled with a smoldering desire. The absence of his shirt or uniform allowed her eyes to roam freely over his sculpted, muscular physique, causing a rush of heat to surge through her veins. The burn scar served as a poignant reminder of the battle with Lust, a moment when Riza had believed Roy to be irretrievably lost. He lowered himself, his hands planted firmly on either side of her head, drawing nearer to her face. With deliberate intent, his groin pressed against hers, evoking a potent mix of panic, shyness, and tantalizing desires. Roy leaned in, as if about to bestow a kiss that Riza couldn't resist, only to divert at the last possible moment, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.

In a husky, growling voice that sent shivers down her spine, he whispered, "Still think 'Love' suits a guy like me?" His lips curled into a teasing smirk, his warm breath teasing her skin, leaving her longing for his touch. "Call me Roy-boy, one more time... go on, I dare you," he taunted, his voice dripping with desire and seduction.

The room seemed to hold its collective breath, the tension between them reaching its zenith. Unspoken desires and emotions hung thick in the air, their connection undeniable. Time stood still as he continued to press his toned hips into her smooth thighs, the fabric of her panties and shorts serving as a flimsy barrier to their escalating desires.

"Well..?" His voice reverberated with a roughness that sent a delicious shiver coursing through her body. He breathed against the side of her throat, his lips held slightly parted, radiating slow, deep, and sultry heat that threatened to consume her. "Or... are you possibly genuinely enjoying this? Hmm?" Roy allowed his lips to tantalizingly brush against her throbbing carotid artery, fueling her longing for his touch and leaving her yearning for more while Roy chuckled.

"You could tell me to stop, I suppose. But I know you too well not to know...that you are just as stubborn and competitive as I am...." Roy warned with a glimmer of truth, but it would leave the punishment ambiguous.

 

[nikoru]

Riza inhaled sharply as she felt Roy's muscular body press intimately against her own, pinning her to the mattress. His groin ground against her core, eliciting a spike of heat that spread like wildfire throughout her nerves. She suppressed a gasp, biting her lower lip as her amber eyes flickered up to meet his dark, smoldering gaze. Her pulse thundered as Roy's face hovered mere inches above her own, his warm breath whispering across her skin. She could almost taste his lips, full and tantalizingly close. It took all her discipline not to arch up and capture his mouth with her own.

"Roy-boy," Riza purred instead, purposefully goading him with the nickname she knew irritated him. She kept her tone playful, belying the undercurrent of challenge that lay beneath. Two could play at this game.

In a lightning quick move, Riza wrapped her legs around Roy's hips and used the leverage to flip their positions. She deftly pinned his wrists above his head, straddling his torso as she gazed down at him triumphantly.Riza let her eyes wander indulgently across her superior officer's bare, toned chest, tracing the ridges of muscle and the pucker of old scars with her vision. A flush crept up her neck as she imagined caressing every inch of that smooth, golden skin. Then, she dragged her gaze back to his face.

Unable to resist, she dipped her head down, her cascade of golden hair forming a curtain around their faces. Her lips grazed the delicate shell of his ear, teeth nipping the lobe teasingly. "You'll have to try harder than that, Love," Riza purred.

Riza's breath grew ragged at their closeness, the clean scent of Roy's skin invading her senses. She could feel his rapid pulse beneath her grip, matching the quickened tempo of her own heart. The tension in the room was palpable, the very air electric with unspoken desire. Dragging her bottom lip along his jawline, the blonde woman finally pulled back just enough to meet his obsidian eyes once more. The undisguised hunger she saw there sent a spike of heat straight to her core. She knew he was enjoying this game as much as she was.

Maintaining her hold on his wrists with one hand, Riza trailed the fingertips of the other down the center of Roy's chest. The temptation to give in and close the aching distance between them was overwhelming. But Riza knew she must retain control, keep their passions in check. There were still lines left uncrossed, boundaries not yet tested.

With a silent exhale, Riza released his wrists and climbed off of Roy's prone form. She rose gracefully from the bed despite her slightly trembling limbs. The room's cool air whispered against her flushed skin, helping to calm the fire in her blood. Turning back to face Roy, Riza allowed a small, knowing smile to curve her lips. "I think that's enough excitement for today, don't you?" Though her tone was light, the underlying meaning was clear.

Riza strolled leisurely to the doorway. She paused there leaning at the frame with her arms crossed, casting one last smoldering look at the Brigadier General. With effortless poise, Riza gazed at Roy trying to look as stoic as possible, though inwardly, her body still thrummed with unsatisfied longing. Their feelings may have been newly acknowledged, but they still have responsibilities towards Ishval and the restoration project that they needed to address.

"Coming with me, Sir?"

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy felt her throat tighten as her lungs drew in a sudden breath as Roy used the weight of his tall, muscular build to press Riza flat against the mattress. As he did his arousal became abundantly clear as he shifted purposefully, back and forth. He knew very well she'd try to resist. She always tried to resist. He could see her yearning to moan but bit her lip to temper her own growing passions stirring in the pit of her smooth but toned tummy. Her eyes flickered like cinders scattering the winds briefly as her hunger and desire surged to them. Roy maintained a small gap between their lips. Far enough that she would have to pull he to her to kiss him, yet close enough that their breathing synced up. It was driving her crazy; he could see it in her eyes, he could feel it in the way her chest was heaving into his.

"Roy-boy," Riza defiantly murmured with a grin. However, Roy didn't groan or complain this time around. He simply and quietly nodded.

"Thank you, my one in a million queen," Roy said softly, his gaze evoking raw, unrestrained passions and the promise of pleasures she'd had before. "Just know, I'll love you through what you just had to bring onto yourself." He then told her just as her legs folded around his lower core, arching her pelvis up as she turned them over, reversing the positions.

But something was amiss, and Riza probably hadn't realized it yet with her attempt to wrest control and position herself in more favorable way. She would see signs of what was really happening when running her hand down his bare chest with eyes that betrayed her willpower to resist. He wasn't even trying to fight her at all. He didn't even attempt to grab her as she climbed off his midsection to stumble a few feet from him before glancing back at Roy who slowly sat upright, still quiet. Too quiet.

"I think that's enough excitement for today, don't you?" Riza asked softly and lightheartedly.

While still thinking she had him, she leaned against the large circular doorway. "Coming with me, Sir?" She'd ask almost bombastically.

"Riza...?" Roys deep, husky voice called to her as he slowly rose and started for her, still in nothing but his trousers. "Where do you think you are going exactly?" He questioned. "I gave you choice, and like I knew you would, you got defiant and said that name again." Roy slicked back his dark strands to reveal his lascivious dark eyes. He would corner her against the wall.

"You also...called me Sir..." He then added. "So, I am now your superior, not your equal? Well then, as your...commanding office. I can't command to take your punishment. That being said...I could do something...very drastic like say...pretend I am drunk at the banquet the day after tomorrow and confess my undying love for one Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye." He quietly whispered into her ear as he loomed near her.

"So...I'm going to give you...one more chance to make this right. You can wither tell me that you'll be good and enjoy our ever so rare alone time...Or, you can get dressed and walk out the door. But, then I'll make the BEST rumor that a General is seeing his subordinate. Now I'm going to count to three and if you don't answer one way or the other, I'll choose for you." Roy smirked deviously. "If there's one Ive learned playing chess with your grandfather...it's that winning the game is a matter of making the other player think they have every opportunity but in reality, they are not seeing the much larger picture. I always wondered what he was on about-- now I know. But don't get me wrong, I don't enjoy playing dirty, well, not this way at any rate..." Roy would chuckle taking Riza's hand, kissing it softly before pressing it to his face dotingly. "But we get so very few moments like this...I'm not trying to rush this. I'm not racing to some finish line - Im in this for the long haul, at least I want to be. But as much as I know you..." Roy's hands cupped and cradles Riza's face.

"I still feel like I barely know you. If want me, if you want this to work...you're going to have to learn to be a little selfish and take things when the opportunity presents itself. So, what will it be?"

 

[nikoru]

"Riza...?"

Riza Hawkeye was usually always reserved and calm, the epitome of a disciplined soldier. She had handled firearms that required a lot of power and precision, so firing them continuously wasn't a problem for her. But as Roy walked towards her with an undeniable want, she felt her knees buckle like no high-recoil gun could. The raven-haired man definitely held power and authority, but she never knew that it would light something inside her. He moved like a predator who was stalking his prey, and she could see that his eyes were dark with hunger that would lead him to take her here and now. If the Brigadier General was planning to seduce her, it was definitely working as the Lieutenant was losing her cool.

"Where do you think you are going exactly?" he asked. Riza wanted to reply that she needed to get some air, but she was tongue-tied as he cornered her against the wall. All she could do was stare at his ravenous dark eyes as he talked. Mustang took this opportunity to corner her against the wall, as if the predator finally caught up to his prey. She just watched as he talked about punishments, but she wasn't really paying attention to a word he said as he rambled. She caught some bits and pieces like command, count, and her grandfather. After all, her heartbeat was drumming like crazy and she got dizzier and warmer by the minute as the superior officer cornered her. Her thoughts were usually organized and rational, but all she could think about was kissing and taking the man in front of her.

"But as much as I know you..." Roy's hands cupped and cradled Riza's face, which broke her daze. "I still feel like I barely know you. If want me, if you want this to work... you're going to have to learn to be a little selfish and take things when the opportunity presents itself. So, what will it be?"

Riza slowly nodded and stupefied by Roy's confession, still looking at Roy in his eyes with much want. They knew each other for a long time, but when he admitted that he still barely knew her, she was stunned. She took a deep breath, mustering all the courage and feelings she had for him. Then, she closed the distance between them and their lips touched, first chastely then she grabbed his dark locks to deepen the kiss. She could finally taste the lips of the man whom she loved from the first moment that she saw him. The kiss was desperate and longing, and Riza could feel herself getting lost from the wave of euphoria that the sensations brought. Her hands were tugging his hair as they continued to make out, her body pressing passionately against his. Finally, she had to break the kiss to catch her breath by pushing Roy gently away from her.

"I'm sorry, Sir," she said, not daring to look at the eyes of her superior officer. "I... need to get some fresh air."

Riza pursed her lips and escaped from Roy, walking in a quick cadence through the quiet halls. Once she went out, she felt the cool air hit in contrast to her flaring cheeks. There, she sighed and tucked some lose strands of hair that flew in the direction of the breeze. She knew she needed some time to process all of this information and feelings to better understand herself and Roy, especially after the events of last night...

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy didn't resist at all when Riza stepped forward toward him. In closing the distance between them while tentatively touching him, and pressing further into him. Still, Roy who just prior seemed so determined to make Riza understand that he wanted to the side she hid from everyone else, hadn't budged at all. Panic swept through his veins in a surge and he reflexively tensed up as he felt Riza's lips press timidly at first against his own, but even as she allowed herself to slip even the slightest bit towards showing someone else, someone who has cared for her for such a long time, what it was she wanted for herself for the first time. That's why Roy knew the kiss was a blatant red herring. But even as he had tried to brace for what was to come, a train derailing in his head as she simply turned from him and walked away. Roy could only watch on, lips pursed as his teeth gritted tightly against each other. The sting of tears filling his right eye to quickly roll down his face.

"You're being a fool...Riza." He muttered under his breath. "A goddamn fool..." He finished as he turned, trying to gather himself as he tried desperately to process the truth of the matter at hand.

It only took him a short timed to get fully dressed in his uniform, before slipping out the back, pulling his cap down over his contemplative eyes. In venturing further into the hellish most heavily damaged areas of the city where he now knew with absolute certainty, Ishval could never, ever be repeated, and such atrocities should never be allowed to flourish. As he continued, his thoughts did everything but focus on what was in front of him. Stopping momentarily, he picked up a charred, dirty teddy bear. Roy's eyes stared intently at the evidence brought to bear on his very soul. It was a mirror of the consequence of actions. Roy's legs buckled beneath the enormity of the wave of guilt and remorse.

The general's knees struck the broken stone pathway, and as he brought the desecrated toy to his chest, trembling violently as he clutched the toy as if trying to take all the pain he could ever conceivably feel onto himself and as he did, he bit his lip until blood trickled freely before, out of absolute frustration and helplessness, he let out a scream of sheer agony before sobbing uncontrollably as the same montage of a child, possibly the one that owned the token of his grief, being burned away with simple gesture as snapping his fingers. Over, and over, and over again it repeated in his mind as he wailed as he slumped forward, as if prostrating himself to a scene of disaster that was everywhere he looked. His sobs died down after a few moments. and he sat staring out blankly. His mind began to reel, slipping backward to the night before. It was moment he thought for sure he'd lost his mind when Riza had come to ask if it was true, that he cared for her more than their...positions could allow for because of policy...But what he had said to her in confidence that night, he could still see the pain in Riza's eyes as he shared his experiences before she had even joined the military.

He shared everything; he shared it all. Every. last. thing he could possibly divulge...

 

[nikoru]

Riza sighed as she crossed her arms to prevent the chill of the desert's early morning get to her, given that she was only wearing her sleepwear. She couldn't help but think of what happened the night before, when Roy finally admitted everything.

Even after years had passed since the Ishval Civil War, the country remains covered in rubble and scarred with destruction. Few citizens still remained in the Land of Ishvala after the War, and the religious kept praying to their god in the hopes of restoring the country to its peaceful and glorious days. But these prayers were left unheard for a long time, and they thought that it was the will of their god for them to move to other lands for a chance of survival. And most of them did live like sewer rats hiding in Amestris, but some remained faithful to the Earth God and stayed.

And those who stayed finally had their prayers heard, and Ishvala's work was done by the same uniformed men who brought hell. The god must be playing a cruel joke, it was the Amestrian Army who wanted to correct their wrongdoings. Together with the army was two of their own—a man with an X-shaped scar in his face and another man wearing sunglasses and the disgusting royal blue uniform. Some scowled at the Flame Alchemist who infamously burned down their kind, while others glared at the Hawk's Eye who took down their men like some wild game. But it was Major Miles, who was first stationed at Fort Briggs, who did most of the diplomatic talking together with Scar. The Brigadier General and his Adjutant was present in most of the meetings but were advised not to speak by their two Ishvalan comrades. They suggested that they have to speak through their actions, and not with just mere words. And so they did, they spent weeks stationed at Ishval... which turned to months...

It was hard for the Ishvalans to trust the foreign people at first, but by some miracle—maybe bestowed by the great Ishvala himself—trust soon began to blossom once again. The Ishval Restoration Project was bumpy at first, but they managed to get through the hurdles one by one. The hospitals and schools were once again running, their worshipping place was restored to allow the faithful to practice their religion, humanitarian aide was given to their brethren who underwent diaspora and was assisted back to their land, and even agriculture flourished more than before.

However, the hardest part of the project was probably getting rid of the remains of war. Building the mass graves for the unidentified bodies and destroying the already-wrecked houses took a toll especially on Riza. Although most Ishvalans already moved past their grudge, there are still some who would give her murderous glares with their bright ruby eyes. She pretended to be indifferent, since she knew the feeling of being monitored with how Pride kept her under surveillance when she knew about Selim Bradley's true identity.

Riza spent most of her time in the orphanage. She felt like a hypocrite as she knew that she might've killed one or more of these children's parents in the war. But she wanted to atone for her sins, especially when she cannot do something when that Ishvalan boy tried to shoot her. All she could do was stare at the kid who got enveloped in flames, when she could have granted him a much more humane and painless death by just shooting him if she just had enough ammo. Or maybe she could have just accepted her fate and let the boy take revenge by letting him kill her.

Spoiler

Guilt continued to consume her, because she knew she had no right to be happy but it was undeniable that she and Mustang had grown closer than ever before. They used the time together to learn more about each other, and they have bonded outside work which was a refreshing surprise for the both of them. They often took walks around the city, and even though the scenery was just of rubble and construction and sand, she could not help but fall in love more deeply as Roy talked about his aspirations. Riza just listened to him intently, knowing that she is willing to follow him wherever he went. They often shared their silly banters, like when she asked what would Roy do first when he becomes the Fuhrer. He proudly said that he wanted to see every woman in the Amestrian Army in miniskirts which earned a facepalm from the blond woman. But as she listened to the man, she could not stop listening to the voices of doubt that continued to echo in her mind.

They were branded killers by the Ishvalan citizens the first time they stepped in their country for the restoration project. But Riza could not see the numbed killer's eyes anywhere in the Brigadier General's onyx eyes. But she, on the other hand, would always be willing to kill anyone who dared to harm her superior officer... and even Roy himself should he get lost in his path of humanity.

Last night, they went to their usual walks and Riza was uncharacteristically quiet. She was a stoic woman but she was never this unresponsive. She had been pondering how much Roy meant to her, but were they on the same page? Curiosity got the best of her so she decided to look at Roy, whose face was illuminated by the gentle moonlight and the stars that were visible thanks to the clear night sky. "Sir, I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly... what do you think of us?"

 

[Damien Hughes]

​

​

​

Roy Mustang lay still on his back, his face upturned to the scorching noon sun that cast blinding halos before his eyes. In his tightly gloved hand, he clutched the charred remnants of a child's stuffed bear, its once vibrant colors now muted by fire and ash. The bear, like the desolate cityscape surrounding him on all sides, served as a haunting reminder of the devastating consequences of following misguided orders. While his flames, once a tool of destruction in his youthful ignorance, had long since extinguished, the scars of his past sins remained etched into the landscape.

Amidst the rubble and debris, Roy lay prone, the desert winds whispering over him, carrying stinging grains of sand that kissed his weathered face. His dark, red-rimmed eyes reflected a profound weariness, unable to shed more tears, yet burdened by the weight of his despair. As he contemplated the depths of his remorse, a haunting silence enveloped the area, broken only by the faint echoes of his alchemical explosions reverberating in his mind.

To Roy, the air still held the acrid taste of smoke and ash, a bitter reminder of lives consumed by his flames. Each snap of his fingers, each deafening boom, echoed in his soul, a relentless chorus of anguish and regret. The shadows of his victims, not merely soldiers but innocent lives lost to his calculated infernos, whispered accusations that pierced his conscience.

Amidst the silent cries for justice, a part of Roy yearned to atone for his sins, to offer restitution to the voices that haunted him. Paralyzed by fear of the past and uncertainty of the future, he grappled with the weight of his actions, his heart heavy with the burden of lives irreparably altered by his hands. As he ran his thumb over the melted eye of the bear, a small gesture laden with unspoken sorrow, memories of war and loss mingled with a fleeting image of Riza, a beacon of light in his darkest moments.

“You think she’s mad?” Roy questioned. “Yeah, she’s probably going to scold me." He then muttered under his breath.

The ground beneath him radiated heat like an open furnace, the fine layer of ash and dust stirring with each gust of wind that swept through the desolate streets. The sound of distant creaking metal and the occasional rustle of debris carried on the breeze, mingling with the haunting silence that enveloped the ruins like a heavy shroud.

As he lay there, caught in the grip of despair and guilt, he felt a cool breeze sweep over him, carrying with it the faint scent of distant rain and the promise of respite from the oppressive heat. The shifting shadows played tricks on his weary mind, casting strange shapes and distorted forms that seemed to dance on the edges of his vision, whispering secrets of forgotten truths and buried regrets.

The burnt remnants of the city seemed to come alive in the harsh light of the sun, casting long shadows and eerie silhouettes that moved and shifted with the changing angles of light. The once vibrant colors of the buildings now faded and muted, their surfaces marred by soot and scorch marks that told the silent tale of a once thriving city reduced to smoldering ruins.

As Roy's thoughts turned to Riza and the weight of his sins, a sudden gust of wind swept through the ruins, stirring up clouds of dust and ash that swirled around him like ethereal spirits seeking solace. The distant echoes of laughter and cries of children seemed to linger in the air, mingling with the whispers of the wind and the rustling of debris, a haunting chorus of past regrets and unspoken apologies. He shut his eyes focusing on something that could ever pull him free from this nightmarish reverie: Riza.

With eyes closed, Roy focused on the image of Riza, her unwavering strength, and loyalty a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him. Her face, framed by tendrils of wind-blown hair and eyes that held both warmth and steel, brought a semblance of calm amidst the chaos of his guilt-ridden thoughts. In her presence, he found a sliver of hope, a fleeting moment of respite from the weight of his sins.

The haunting chorus of regrets and unspoken apologies faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of his own breath. In Riza's imagined embrace, he found solace and a flicker of courage to face the shadows that lurked within him. With her by his side, he felt a glimmer of redemption, a chance to seek forgiveness not just from others, but from himself...

---

"Sir, I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly... what do you think of us?" Riza asked Roy, looking at him questioningly.

He knew what Riza had meant by it. She had never been the type to beat around the bush. As much as the thought may have scared her, it scared him just as much. She'd always held him at aloft at arm's length. That made the question that much more insurmountably more difficult to ascertain how she would take his answer.

"Oh, Lieutenant, thought you weren't the type to fraternize?" He smiled playfully as he shrugged.

Yes, fear. That was what had always held him at bay. Sure, he put a brave face, and he took charge when needed. But inside? He was as scared as anyone else would be in the face of danger and heartache. However, in seeing Riza's eyes softening and maybe even falter as she might have believed he truly didn't know. Roy turned around, his back to her.

"Follow me..." He would sigh. "I have something you need to see." He said, rubbing his head as he started walking away towards his the depot where the supplies were all kept. Once inside the structure, he relieved the soldier on duty temporarily, and watched him step out before Roy turned towards one of the many lockers and took the supply key.

"You know, sometimes... you think you want to know the answer to something..." He started, unlocking the large container before pulling out a black case. before shutting the container and turning back towards Riza. "And when you find the truth after all, even when you think you've prepared yourself...you can never unlearn things. Thats the curse of having knowledge."

Roy carried the container over to the table, setting it down in front of her and easing it towards Riza as he sat down. He watched her open it and look at the contents with a puzzled expression before she looked at him. Inside was a pistol. It would look like any other service sidearm to her.

"That's not just any pistol," Roy said sighing. "That pistol is a reminder for me." He then said. "Before I answer your question, there's something you should know. There was a time I was an ordinary soldier, nothing too special about me." He smiled faintly, yet sadly as he felt his mask start to crack and expose the man underneath. He was vulnerable, and it scared him to let his guard down.

"As an ordinary soldier, I lacked grand ambitions. Before the Ishvalan rebellion broke fully out into war, there were scattered pockets. I had trained with Hughes and another man, surprisingly an Ishvalan. We were all friends. However, we came to find the Ishvalan we had befriended was trying to get intel for future attacks. A band of Ishvalans surrounded us in a small radio center—and our...friend turned on me with a gun. That gun. I wrested it from his hands and...put it to his and pulled the trigger. I'll never live down what came next." Roy frowned grievously.

"His family, it seemed, had been killed in one of the riots which had sprung up. And I recognised them immediately, as I was one of the soldiers who was ordered to fire on them. After Maes and I made it back alive, I found out about who the man I had killed was. I spiraled out of control. I felt like I had no decency in me left. One day I took that gun and I put it to my head. I was so...sure of what I wanted, so certain that giving my life was the right thing." Roy looked over at Riza.

"But then I met you and your father. And I was never the same.Just as you keep me in line now, that gun almost took the life of this foolish man in front of you. When I think about it now, its absurd that I ever almost never met you."

Roy stood back up, remaining muted for a moment as he listened to the hum of a generator running. "Riza, when I got my eyesight back, the first thing I wanted to see was you. And ever since then, I haven't been able to think about anything else. I tried so hard, you know? To put my feelings on the back burner. But how many times do I have to give a piece of myself up before I can take something back in exchange? That's alchemy, right? Equivalent exchange? I'm not asking or ordering you to love me. Just...try, try to please understand how important you've been to me."

As the hum of the generator filled the space between them, Roy's plea hung in the air, a raw confession of his feelings and a plea for understanding. "You brought light into my darkness, reminding me of the man I could be, not the one I almost became." Roy's voice held a raw vulnerability, baring his soul to the one person he trusted most before he began to put the weapon away.

 

[nikoru]

Riza held her breath as she waited for the man to reply, unaware that her usually serious look was replaced with a soft gaze. She was hoping that he would just take her away to somewhere, never looking back to their past sins and be happy together.

"Oh, Lieutenant, thought you weren't the type to fraternize?" Brigadier General Mustang asked jokingly, which warranted a stern look from the Lieutenant.

Riza felt like she was hit by ice cold water even if Roy was clearly teasing him but she tried to maintain her cool. It wasn't something new since they frequently banteres in and outside of work. But his comment made her realize that, yes, she was on the brink of breaking the anti-fraternization code of the Amestrian Military. But she knew that dream was out of reach, because sinners like him and herself did not deserve to be happy because of the weight of their atrocities.

"Sir, I'm serious," she said softly, her voice faltering a bit and lacking the usual intimidating tone that it usually had. Roy turned back from her and ordered her to follow him. Of course Riza obliged, as she knew deep inside her that he didn't have to ask.

She knew where they were going, the both of them were headed to the Amestrian building where all their supplies were stored for the restoration project. It also had lockers for the Amestrian Army, but she did not frequent it since she has everything she needed in her person.

The soldier on duty gave a snappy salute which Roy returned, putting the soldier at ease. The soldier stepped aside as the superior officer ordered him, and now Roy headed to the lockers with a silver key on his hand. Riza just observed silently, a million thoughts going through her brain all at once. She was wondering if Roy has finally lost it and decided that he no longer needed her. Or maybe Roy was cosidering to make a proposal. Or maybe Roy wanted to run from all of this and start anew? Or maybe—

Her thoughts were cut off instantly when the Brigadier General spoke as he opened the locker.

"You know, sometimes... you think you want to know the answer to something..." Roy said, bringing out a large black suitcase. "And when you find the truth after all, even when you think you've prepared yourself...you can never unlearn things. Thats the curse of having knowledge."

Riza gulped, not knowing the contents of the suitcase. She was rooted where she was standing, her eyes only followed Roy as he put it on top of the long wooden table and sat down the chair. It was anticlimactic, though. It just contained a simple handgun for Riza, which she pointed out, as she handled a lot of those in her line of work as a markswoman.

"Sir, it's just a—"

"That's not just any pistol," he said, cutting her off. "That pistol is a reminder for me."

Riza just cocked her head to the side in her curiosity, trying to see a better picture of why a simple pistol would remind him of something. Then she understood, once Roy narrated his experiences in Ishval together with Hughes. She could feel a lump forming in her throat and repressing her urge to bawl her eyes out from anguish at the mental picture of this man holding a gun to his head and pulling the trigger to end it all. She wished that she can carry his burden when the man started to tell her about how he almost lost hope and took his own life. She almost forgot how to breathe, remembering how cruel the war was for the both of them, and for their victims as well.

"I was so...sure of what I wanted, so certain that giving my life was the right thing" Roy looked over at Riza. "But then I met you and your father. And I was never the same."

Riza fought the urge to rush to the raven-haired man and hug him as tight as she can. First, she was immensely grateful that he still managed to thrive and slowly work towards his dream of being the Fuhrer. Second, she hoped that she can help him lift himself up after the traumatizing events they were subjected to. But she cannot risk his position based on her selfish desires of being close to him. After all, she knew that the anti-fraternization code would separate the two of them.

"Just as you keep me in line now, that gun almost took the life of this foolish man in front of you. When I think about it now, it's absurd that I ever almost never met you," Roy admitted, which made the Lieutenant's eyes glisten with unshed bittersweet tears.

Roy stood up, only the generator's sound filling the air. When Roy retold the story of how his eyesight went back after the events of the Promised Day, Riza felt her heart soften at his confession, especially hearing him call her by her name. She knew the man in front of her for many years now, but bringing back that memory made her reminisce how tender and intimate that moment was. It was the first time in years when she had realized that maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to be loved back by her beloved. And now, hearing the words come out from his lips, it confirmed her feelings—in his dorky, weird analogy relating all of this to alchemy. It helped ease the tension a bit, Riza's lips forming into a small smile.

"Sir..." Riza said, unsure of where to start. "I just want to tell you that I also feel the same," she said, boldly stepping towards him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, her thumbs carressing him gently. She looked at him as if he was the most precious thing in the whole wide world, forgetting for a moment the burdens that they have carried for so long.

With a bit of a tiptoe and angling her head to the side, she placed a tender kiss on the Brigadier General's lips. "You don't have to order me to love you, Sir, because I already do. For a long, long time now."

The night was long for the two, they seemed like superior and subordinate when they left the building. But once they reached their quarters, Roy asked her to sleep beside him for tonight which Riza happily obliged. When they changed to their sleepwear (or the man's lack thereof aside from boxers), they gently flopped on the bed as their forehead touched gently. They didn't really spend their time talking, they just basked at the closeness and intimacy as their long-harbored feelings were acknowledged after a long time until they fell asleep.

---

Riza went out to get some air at 0317H and she didn't notice Roy also went out in the back. The sun eventually shone bright in Ishval, signalling the start of a new day. It's already 1215H and the Brigadier General was still missing. Riza cursed herself internally as she went to find Roy, blaming herself as the reason why he was still missing. It's been long since she got out of her sleepwear and changed into her uniform, but she still had not eaten anything because she was worried sick. The other soldiers were mobilized to find the missing man even though he was fully capable to handle trouble by himself.

She checked everywhere she could think of, but still came back empty-handed. The last place she thought where he could be was the Ishval ruins where the damages were mostly done. It used to be the heart of the nation with its great temple in the middle, but now it just served as a grim reminder of the effects of war. She drove the car as fast as she can to that place, hoping to find the Brigadier General.

 

[Damien Hughes]

Present​

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The wind shifted, Roy felt an invisible force pulling his gaze deeper into the heart of the city's desolation. Slowly rising to his feet, his eyes remained fixated on the ominous path ahead, beckoning him towards a dark and foreboding corridor flanked by the remnants of charred homes. With a heavy heart, he began to tread the bleak path, each step a silent echo of his inner turmoil. Thoughts of Riza's concern and his neglected duties lingered in his mind, overshadowed by the eerie presence that enveloped him.

The dilapidated structures seemed to watch him with hollow eyes, their shattered windows whispering tales of a bygone era. Did Riza ever experience this haunting sensation, the feeling of being scrutinized by the spectral remnants of a once vibrant community? Would she, too, hear the echoes of joyous laughter dissolve into anguished cries that reverberated through the desolate streets?

A sense of foreboding gripped Roy as he advanced, a primal instinct urging him towards a buried truth that resonated deep within his being. The somber rustle of the wind, now laden with a sense of impending doom, caused him to pause, a chill running down his spine. The encroaching darkness, shrouding the sun in a veil of shadows, intensified his unease, yet spurred him onward in search of absolution, both from the Ishvalans and his own tormented conscience.

With each hesitant step, Roy's grip on the toy bear tightened, a silent reminder of his past transgressions. Resolute yet apprehensive, he pressed forward, the debris-strewn path leading him through a maze of haunting memories. The air grew heavy with melancholy, the remnants of the past whispering fragmented stories of sorrow and regret.

As he reached the heart of the ruined garden, the once majestic fountains now silent witnesses to the desolation that surrounded them, Roy felt a surge of anticipation. The temple, a solemn monument to a lost faith, loomed ahead, its weathered statues standing sentinel over the entrance. Ignoring the whispers that urged him forward, Roy ascended the scorched stone steps, the crackling lightning illuminating the foreboding entrance in fleeting bursts of brilliance.

Upon crossing the threshold, the temple's hollow chambers echoed with the reverberations of his footsteps, the tumultuous sky outside mirroring the turmoil within. Thunder rumbled ominously, underscoring the gravity of his quest for answers. In the enveloping darkness, Roy stood resolute, torn between the desire for truth and the fear of confronting his deepest fears. Something was here and it wanted him to find it. Or maybe, he had come here in search of answers to the questions he'd never asked because he didn't want to know the truth because it would hurt more than lies he had made up to protect himself with.

The rhythmic click of Roy's boots against the ancient sandstone floor echoed through the dimly lit temple, each step a testament to his unwavering resolve. In the flickering light of the braziers, ignited by a snap of his fingers amidst the lightning's dance, the temple's core was bathed in a warm, flickering glow. Altars, bereft of their once sacred relics, stood sentinel around him, silent witnesses to the passage of time and the erosion of faith.

As he ventured deeper into the heart of the temple, his gaze traced the intricate symbols and cryptic hieroglyphs adorning the weathered walls. Halting before a particularly elaborate inscription, Roy's fingers traced the ancient text etched into the stone with a reverence tinged with curiosity.

"I wish I knew what you're trying to get me to see; I want to understand," Roy muttered softly. "Help me understand." As the words slipped from his lips, his fingers pushed in the remarkable diagram he was staring at.

Roy leaned inwards as the small picture became a recess in the wall. Looking in, a mist enveloped his face, making him jerk backwards defensively, but it was too late.
A violent throbbing in his head blurred his vision, sending him reeling as the world spun around him. Attempting to rise, he found himself trapped in a dizzying cycle of weightlessness and gravity, his body lurching between extremes with each futile attempt to regain his footing.

As panic tightened its grip, Roy's heartbeat, once a steady rhythm of determination, quickened to a frantic tempo, each pulse a tolling bell marking his descent into the unknown. The encroaching darkness swallowed the fading light, his frantic struggles to give way to a surreal calm as his body succumbed to an inexplicable surrender. With a final, defiant beat, his heart stilled, and a profound stillness settled over the temple, shrouding Roy in an eerie tranquility.

As Roy's consciousness ascended into the void, a profound darkness enveloped him, a cloak of obsidian that carried him to a realm beyond comprehension. Awaking in a place defying all logic, he found himself adrift on a sea of black velvet, the celestial tapestry of stars shimmering with ancient brilliance beneath his boat. Paddling amidst the cosmic expanse, he was dwarfed by the infinite stretch that surrounded him.

Guided by an enigmatic force, a colossal sphere of deepest ebony encased in a halo of radiant white light loomed before him, its form a mesmerizing dance of shadow and illumination. Nebulous tendrils spiraled like ethereal ribbons around its circumference, weaving a cosmic tapestry that whispered of untold secrets and boundless mysteries.

Entranced by the luminous corona, Roy felt a flood of memories cascade through his mind like scenes flickering on a timeless reel. In this surreal dimension, where the boundaries of emotion and sensation blurred, he existed in a state of pure being, detached from the tumult of earthly desires and fears. He was amidst the cosmic ballet of stars and shadows. His gaze searched the infinite expanse for answers, seeking a path forward in the boundlessness of the unknown as he sat in his lone boat.
The dark sea churned violently beneath him, its roiling waves growing increasingly turbulent before a forceful upheaval threw Roy overboard, plunging him into the abyssal depths. As he descended into the icy embrace of the black waters, a kaleidoscope of memories unfurled before him, painting the expanse around him with a vivid tapestry of past, present, and future. Each image, each fragment of his existence, wove itself into the fabric of reality like an intricate fractal pattern, enveloping him in a symphony of emotions both raw and transcendent.

The scenes flickered before his eyes, each one a poignant echo of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. From the haunting image of his parents' final resting place, the harsh winter landscape seared into his memory, to the visceral chill that gripped his lungs in the frigid air, each moment etched itself into his soul with a haunting clarity. Tears welled in his eyes as he beheld the inevitable journey of the mourning child evolving into the man burdened with the weight of destiny.

Was it mere chance that led him down this path, or was it the inexorable pull of fate's design that shaped his every choice?

Floating in the ethereal realm, he witnessed a vision of his younger self, garbed in a sharp black suit and gloves, a figure of allure and enigma amidst a sea of adoring women. The allure of that transient existence, fueled by necessity and fleeting pleasures, bore the weight of a hollow existence, where faces blurred into a mosaic of forgotten encounters and trust was but a distant dream. The ephemeral glamour of his past life, a facade of opulence masking a profound emptiness, offered glimpses of a reality devoid of substance or solace. The echoes of his fragmented memories reverberating through the cosmic void, a reminder of the transient nature of his existence and the transient nature of its illusions.

As the ethereal image shifted once more, transforming into the visage of a resolute and optimistic young lieutenant clad in the regal attire of blue slacks and coat adorned with copper and silver buttons, gold tassels swaying with each movement, and gleaming black leather boots polished to perfection, Roy gazed upon his younger self with a mix of nostalgia and regret. At the tender age of 23, his reflection in the cosmic mirror evoked memories of a time when pride coursed through his veins as he first donned his uniform, a symbol of duty and service that once ignited a fervent sense of purpose within him.

The allure of anonymity within the ranks, the comfort of being a mere cog in the grand machinery of the military, initially held a certain appeal to Roy. Yet, the embers of pride that once burned brightly within him gradually dimmed as the shadows of unrest descended upon the land. The haunting echoes of his past deeds reverberated through the tapestry of his life, revealing the pivotal moment when he faced an enraged mob with a firearm in hand, the weight of his decisions etched into his soul like a scar that refused to fade.

In a quick succession of harrowing scenes, the image of death intertwined with his own, each memory a jagged shard of remorse and anguish. The specter of betrayal loomed large as he recalled the chilling act of silencing an informant, a former ally turned traitor, his hands stained with the blood of one who he once trusted. The agony of that moment, compounded by the weight of his choices, festered within him like a smoldering wound, driving him to the brink of despair.

Haunted by the specter of his past transgressions, Roy grappled with the unbearable weight of his actions, a burden just too heavy to bear. In a moment of profound desperation, consumed by the gnawing guilt that nagged at his mind, he sought solace in the finality of a bullet, a desperate bid to escape the inexorable grip of his sins.

Thing is, he couldn't do it, and maybe he never could. Maybe he was just a coward who talked big. But his best friend Maes Hughes barged in and saw him. He'd never seen Maes be that mad when he snatched the gun from his hand. Roy remembered clearly Maes telling him that Roy couldn't take the easy way out. Maes would not let him.

By this point, Roy had made friends. Jean Havoc, Fuery, Breda--Fallman. Even Armstrong. And each person he had met, they stood out to him. And it showed, as each of them had a white corona like the black star had. It was indicative they each meant something to him. They had experienced hardships together, endured when most thought they'd fail.

Everyone that'd he'd remembered so far had brought with them an invaluable experience and lesson. But he was still missing something crucial....

"The sun goes down...." A voice echoed, vaguely familiar making Roy spin around only to find himself in a vast empty library.

"Hello?" Roy called out to the unknown.

"I feel the light betray me.." The voice echoed back at him.

Roy's vision blurred, the ceiling above him rattling in discord as an explosion rippled through the seemingly seamless stonework. Dust plumes and bits of stone falling down around him. He then looked down to see a book in his hand with a very familiar circle etched in its leather-bound cover: Flame Alchemy. He then looked up to see a figure walking away from the railing of the upper floors. Racing after the figure, he ran he lost sight of her only briefly and it was enough to make anxiety wash over him in fear that he might miss something important. Another explosion rattled the far wall, a hole blowing out as the swelling of oxygen and a spark vaporized stone to ignite it into one massive combustion. But as the room tumbled, turning him towards the now gaping oblivion, he caught the sight of the figure from earlier. He put the book down and lept at the wall in the opposite direction and began scaling it like it were a sheer rock face. He shimmied up the stone edifices, panting heavily before he stood up to meet the hooded figure who had their back to him.

"Stop! Who are you?" Roy heavily breathed, gasping almost.

"Would you want to know even if it might lead you to misery?" The voice questioned him. "Would you want to know if it cost everything?"

Roy swallowed hard. Hands curling closed. "I would."

The figure dropped its cloak and Roy was transported to Riza's father's estate. Riza stood before him, exposed. He remembered this moment completely: the day she showed him how to unlock the Flame Alchemy after her father had denied him. Her father had passed away. He thought he'd never see her again, but when he heard his teacher had died--he couldn't come. Her words now made sense; if he didn't meet her, he'd have lived a completely different life. And if he hadn't learned alchemy, he'd never be the monster he deemed himself destined to be.

"Then you have to understand: you need to let go," the voice boomed from all around him as the scene faded to black.

"Let go?" Roy asked before the knowledge of every single face he'd helped extinguish, every precious life he'd taken all pouring into his mind like an avalanche.

"Let go." The voice called out again. The words were reverberating as he was slung through multiple realms. His mind conjuring images of him being thrown out a window, but as he was about to hit the ground, he plunged into water, his own reflection reaching out to ensnare him.

"Let go. You have to let go!" The voice fractured into dozens, then hundreds of voices. Roy felt himself come to as he stood before the Gate of Truth again before it too transformed and then he found himself back at home in central.

In the tapestry of memories and revelations that unfolded before him, Roy found himself confronted by a pivotal moment—one etched in the annals of his past with indelible ink. The image of his doppelgänger, a mirror reflecting the depths of his soul, stood before him, embodying the weight of his choices and the echoes of his journey.

As the question hung heavy in the air, a query that pierced through the layers of his being like a blade seeking truth, Roy's doppelgänger pondered the essence of his existence, the core of his identity laid bare in the stark light of introspection.

"I have someone I want to protect," the words echoed through the chamber of his mind, resonating with a clarity that belied the complexity of his emotions. In that single, resolute declaration, Roy unearthed a truth that had long eluded him—a truth that defined the very fabric of his being, the driving force that propelled him forward through the tumultuous currents of life.

Yet, as the scene shifted once more, hurling him into the bustling streets of Rissenboul, Roy found himself witness to a moment of profound revelation—a conversation steeped in unspoken truths and veiled confessions. Amidst the clamor of the city, amidst the echoes of footsteps and whispered promises, Winry posed a question that echoed the sentiments of a bygone inquiry.

"I have someone I want to protect," Riza's voice, soft yet resolute, carried through the air like a gentle breeze, weaving its way into the tapestry of Roy's consciousness. In that fleeting exchange, in that shared declaration of purpose and devotion, Roy glimpsed a reflection of his own truth—a truth that transcended the boundaries of words, a truth that bound them together in an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of adversity.

As the echoes of their declarations reverberated through the corridors of his mind, Roy felt a profound sense of clarity wash over him, a clarity born from the realization that, in the tapestry of their intertwined destinies, they were but threads woven together by fate's hand—a hand that guided them towards a shared purpose, a shared destiny, a shared love that defied the constraints of time and space.

In a dizzying whirlwind of sensations, Roy found himself hurtling through time and space, the world around him blurring into a kaleidoscope of fleeting images and fleeting emotions. Abruptly, as if guided by an unseen force, he materialized at the hallowed altar of a reverent church, where the venerable figure of Grumman stood in silent vigil.

His gaze then alighted upon a vision that stole his breath away: Riza, resplendent in a gown that seemed to shimmer with ethereal grace, her beauty a beacon of light in the dim sanctuary. A surge of emotions—jittery anticipation, a pang of shame, and a flicker of fear—tugged at Roy's heart, setting it ablaze with a tumultuous fervor.

As the scene unfolded like a fragile dream, the solemn hush of the church enveloped them, a sacred stillness that heralded a moment of profound significance. With trembling hands, Roy lifted the delicate veil that obscured Riza's radiant visage, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of destiny.

In a heartbeat suspended in time, he leaned in, drawn inexorably towards her, the world around them fading into obscurity as their lips met in a tender union. And in that fleeting instant of unity, a burst of blinding light fractured the darkness, painting the heavens in a riot of colors—blue, purple, and red—each hue a testament to the kaleidoscope of emotions that welled within Roy's soul.

As the swirling vortex of sensation threatened to engulf him, twisting and turning like a tempestuous storm, Roy felt a profound sense of disorientation wash over him. The boundaries of reality blurred, merging into a maelstrom of chaos and rebirth, each moment a revelation, each breath a renewal of purpose.

And then, as swiftly as he had been swept into the whirlwind of his own making, Roy found himself back in the familiar confines of the temple, his body heaving with ragged breaths, his mind reeling from the onslaught of visions and emotions that had assailed him.

Amidst the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, Roy's gaze fell upon a singular symbol etched into the stone, its intricate design a testament to the cyclical nature of existence—a symbol of rebirth, of transformation, of new beginnings.

With a hesitant touch, Roy traced the contours of the symbol, feeling the cool stone beneath his fingertips, a tangible reminder of the journey he had undertaken, the revelations he had unearthed, and the promise of a future yet unwritten. In that moment of muted contemplation, bathed in the gentle glow of newfound understanding, Roy knew that he had glimpsed a truth beyond words—a truth that whispered of endings and beginnings, of redemption and renewal, of love and the unbreakable bond that tethered him to Riza and to the infinite possibilities that lay ahead.

"Let go...I, I think I finally get it. I think I know now. I think understand." He muttered, straightening his back with his eyes locked on the crest.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Someone to protect?" A voice called out to him, and Roy turned to see the child who had burned alive. He didn't have the burns, and his eyes didn't strike fear and guilt into him.

Roy nodded. "Yeah, yeah I do. And I finally understand how I can get her to forgive herself, just as I'm learning to do. We can't just wallow in our pity forever lost in the past. No. If we want change, actual change. We have to change ourselves first. We have to become the ideals that we want to see. But, we aren't perfect paragons of our values. But we are redeemable, at least for our misgivings. And there's someone I love that's still lost in the past and I'm going to make her see a future she can't say no to. I've never left her before, and I sure as hell am not starting now."

Roy started past the child, who turned back into the stuffed bear on the floor. He smiled slightly. As he stepped outside, overcast clouds brought with them warm, summery rain that made him hold his arms out and smile, beginning to laugh as he then stopped to see Riza getting out of the car in a panic. He met her halfway down the numerous steps of limestone. When he got to her, he suddenly pulled her into a surprisingly tight hold, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pressed to the back of her head. It had felt like forever since he'd last seen her. He then pulled her lips to his and kissed her deeply while holding her face.

"I missed you..." Roy smiled. It was a genuine, purehearted grin that would warm her through and through. Something about him had changed. He could no longer feel the fear, the remorse. He no longer seemed mired in self loathing, he was free.

 

[nikoru]

Riza sat motionless in the parked car, her knuckles white as she tightly gripped the steering wheel. Rain pattered softly against the windshield, but she barely noticed the gentle summer shower. Her mind was consumed with concern for Roy after losing contact with him hours ago after. She had searched frantically to no avail before finally receiving word that he had been spotted entering a decrepit temple. What was he doing there alone?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Riza stepped out into the rain, not even bothering to grab an umbrella. She had to find him. As she briskly walked down the worn stone steps, rain soaking through her uniform, she saw a lone figure emerging from the ancient temple doors. Her breath caught in her throat as she instantly recognized Roy's unruly raven hair and broad shoulders. Relief flooded through her, quickly followed by confusion. Why was he smiling so serenely, his arms outstretched as if embracing the rain? They both knew he was useless in the rain.

"Roy!" Riza called out, quickening her pace and him meeting her halfway. As she reached him, Roy suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace. Caught off guard, it took Riza a moment to process his strong arms enveloping her, one pressed against the small of her back while the other cradled her head gently. She tentatively returned the hug, still perplexed by his atypical show of emotion.

"Sir, what's going on? Where have you been?" Riza asked anxiously as they parted. Before she could say another word, Roy tenderly grasped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. Riza's eyes widened, her body tensing in surprise. His lips were rough and chapped due to dehydration after being away for so long in the ruins of the desert, tasting a bit like blood. But the warmth of his lips and the intimacy of his touch soon had her melting into the embrace, letting herself get lost in the closeness they had denied themselves for so long.

When their lips finally parted, Riza searched Roy's dark eyes, now alight with contentment instead of their usual solemnity. "I missed you," he murmured, a joyful grin spreading across his face. Riza opened her mouth but no words came out. She had never seen him look so... unburdened. So genuinely happy.

Riza gazed up at him, hope and apprehension warring within her. Riza slowly nodded, a tentative smile crossing her lips. Riza pulled him into another kiss beneath the rain's gentle blessing, the Lieutenant dared to envision a new path unfolding before them, guided by hope instead of regret. Whatever this transformation in Roy, she would trust in it, just as she had always trusted in him. Their demons may yet haunt them, but they would face those shadows hand in hand. They kissed as if their lives depended on it, not minding if they ran out of breath. But once they were reminded of their need for oxygen, they broke the kiss and their foreheads touched intimately with a tender smile...

"We were..." Riza paused then immediately corrected herself. "I was worried..." Riza whispered, soft enough to be heard in the pitter-patter of the rain. "I'm sorry, Roy... come back with me now."

Her worries were now being washed away by the rain and by his presence. She held his hand, now noticing how drenched they were. "We know how useless you are under the rain."

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy gazed at Riza with profound adoration, his eyes locked with hers, their unspoken connection palpable. His hands, devoid of gloves, delicately cupped her cheeks, a gesture filled with a quiet tenderness that belied the intensity of his emotions. Despite the lingering fear of rejection that loomed in the recesses of his mind, Roy remained steadfast, unwavering in his resolve to lay bare his feelings for her.

As their eyes met in a silent exchange of truths, Roy braced himself for any outcome, determined to face whatever revelations awaited him. He had long suspected Riza's hesitance to embrace happiness, but now, as he held her face in his hands, he found solace in the certainty that their bond transcended fear and uncertainty.

With a gentle touch, Riza leaned in for another kiss, a silent plea for reassurance and understanding. Roy met her lips eagerly, each tender caress a testament to the depth of their connection, the unspoken promises that lingered between them.

In the tranquil embrace of the rain-swept temple ruins, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the clouds, Roy and Riza found solace in each other's presence. The gentle patter of rain served as a cleansing balm, washing away the remnants of guilt and shame that clung to their souls, offering a glimpse of redemption and forgiveness.

As Riza pulled back from their embrace, her gaze met Roy's with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. Her words, tinged with regret and longing, echoed through the quiet air, a poignant confession of her fears and uncertainties. With a soft touch, Roy brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—love, understanding, and unwavering determination.

"We've both carried our burdens in silence, haven't we?" Roy mused, his voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of their shared moment. "But it's time we confront our fears together, to face the truths that have kept us apart." With a gentle squeeze of her hand, he led her down the steps, a silent promise of unity and strength in the face of adversity.

At the base of the steps, Roy's demeanor shifted, a sense of purpose etched on his features as he withdrew his gun with a steady hand. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a challenge laid bare for Riza to confront her deepest fears, to trust in their bond even in the face of uncertainty.

As he handed her the gun, a silent pact of trust sealed between them, Roy's voice held a steely resolve. "Trust me, Riza," he urged, his gaze unwavering. "We must confront our demons before we can truly move forward."

With a solemn nod, Roy set the stage for a test of courage and conviction, a trial of faith and loyalty that would push them to their limits. As he posed his questions, each word laden with significance, Roy's voice echoed through the temple, a clarion call to introspection and self-discovery.

"For my first question, Riza Hawkeye," Roy began, his voice resolute. "You have carried the weight of your past deeds as a sniper, haunted by the lives you have taken. What drives you to seek redemption, to stand by my side in this moment of reckoning?"

Roy waited for her to answer, watching her struggle to keep the gun fixed on him. This wasn't about or for his sake, this was for hers. He knew Riza was extremely hard on herself, even if she was lenient with him. He had to face these questions himself in the temple. Rather, he was truly worth forgiving, and if he could be a means of change for the better. But while he had his world views upended inside the temple, this was a test he felt would help her accept the idea that she too needed to start to let go of the past.

With each subsequent question, he edged closer to her. He made good on his word and ordered her to shoot at him when she hesitated or was trying to be dishonest with herself. But with each question, she could hear the answers that always swam safely inside her head, aloud where their sins had been committed. He was making her be honest with her feelings for him, and realize what Roy understood. That it wasn't enough to hope for a better tomorrow, they had to be the change they wanted to see. That they had to let go of the crushing weight of guilt and forgive themselves before they could accept forgiveness from the ones they had wronged.

They both had been selfish in that regard. They were always clinging to the past tragedies and feeling bad when they had the opportunity to change their views and perspectives all this time, but they instead hid behind a curtain of shame and refused to. The pain they felt and the anger at feeling so helpless was a curse they had given to themselves alone. And as Roy neared Riza, grazes all over from the shots fired, he guided her hands to lower the weapon.

"We don't have to cling to the past in order to remember our mistakes, Riza. And we have to learn to forgive ourselves before we can hope to be feel the forgiveness of others. We came here to help the Ishvalans, but if we did it without letting ourselves first realizing that we have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable in order to feel the forgiveness we want. There is no way around that," Roy told Riza calmly, taking the weapon. "To let go of the guilt and allow yourself to understand that yes, we make mistakes, but we can also can make a difference." He tossed the gun as for away as he could, symbolically letting go of his shame.

"Be honest; which would you really rather have? The guilt and the shame? Or the ability to make a change for a better future?"

 

[nikoru]

Riza stood motionless, eyes fixed on the gun clutched in her hands. The cold metal felt heavy, a grim reminder of her past. She had taken so many lives with firearms like this one. The stains of those sins could never wash clean. She had come to Ishval hoping to find some way to atone. But did absolution exist for one such as herself? Or was she damned to carry the burden forever, chasing an impossible redemption?

She took a shaky breath before answering. "Yes...I took many lives in Ishval. Actions that will forever haunt me." She paused, steadying herself. "I came here to atone, to try and mend some small part of the damage done. But now..."

She shoot him with the pistol, grazing his hat. Riza blinked back tears as memories of the war flooded her mind. The cracked desert earth soaked red, smoke choking the air, screams echoing across the dunes. Her own hands unflinching as she peered through crosshairs framed with death. Perhaps it was naive to think helping rebuild the destroyed nation could salve her conscience. She had willingly become an instrument of destruction here. What right did she have to be part of restoring life from these ashes?

But she stayed for Roy's sake. He too had bloodstained hands, but she still believed in his capacity to do good, lead Amestris to a righteous future. He was her purpose now. She would support him, follow him, ensure he stayed on the path of light. Even if she could not forgive her own sins, keeping him from straying would grant her life some small meaning. She clung to the hope that if she stood stalwart at his side, she too might walk in light again someday.

It was a slender hope, but it whispered that perhaps her soul was not beyond all redemption yet. She had sworn to follow Roy, even through the gates of hell. If staying by his side might someday lift the shadows from her heart, she would remain his adjutant, his guardian, for as long as he needed her.

Riza lifted her chin to face the Brigadier General. Her hands were stained with the countless lives she took, but her loyalty and love for Roy ran deep. She would focus on the good they could do together, not the tragedies of the past. With him guiding the way, she would keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Roy's dark gaze bore into her, awaiting her next response. Riza tightened her grip on the gun. "I stay to support you. To follow where you lead. To ensure you do not stray from the right path. That is my purpose now."

Riza's eyes glistened as she listened to Roy's words. He was right—they had both allowed guilt to consume them for so long. Using it as a crutch, a means of self-inflicted punishment for their past actions. He threw the pistol on the ground.

She lowered her head, blonde strands falling to obscure her face. It was easier to cling to that familiar shame and regret. The prospect of forgiveness—especially self-forgiveness—terrified her. Because to accept it meant releasing the burden she felt she deserved to carry. But refusing to relinquish the past also meant stagnation. Wallowing in grief and self-loathing, blind to possibilities for growth. Roy had found a way to let go and move forward. Could she allow herself that same grace? Riza lifted her head slowly, meeting Roy's patient gaze. She drew a shaky breath.

"You're right, Sir..." she said quietly, hesitant to admit the points that her superior officer raised.

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy let out a soft sigh, shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he bent down to retrieve the hat that had been dislodged by a passing bullet. With a deft motion, he placed the hat back on Riza's head before speaking in a tone that was both teasing and sincere.


"I'm not your superior officer or a general when it's just us—it's simply Roy," he playfully scolded her, a hint of warmth in his voice. "But remember this above all else: If you ever feel like running away, feel free to do so. Just know that I'll always be there, chasing after you. And mark my words, when I become Fuhrer one day, you'll look absolutely radiant in a white dress." He adjusted the cap on her head, anticipating her possible reaction with a knowing smile.


"That's a promise as solid as the notion of mini skirts," he teased, releasing the hat before Riza could playfully swat his hand away. "On a serious note, amidst all the wonders I've seen, nothing has ever taken my breath away like the sight of you walking towards me in white, your hair styled elegantly, and your eyes brimming with hope. I've never felt such a surge of emotions before. You're truly stunning, now and always," Roy whispered to Riza, his words filled with genuine admiration.


Extending his hand towards her, he posed a question with a touch of concern, "Are you ready to return to camp, or would you prefer to stay a little longer?"

 

[nikoru]

Riza felt her cheeks grow warm as she listened to Roy's playful yet heartfelt words. She adjusted the hat he had placed back on her head, lips pursed in a mixture of embarrassment and shy pleasure at his tender compliments.

"Really now, such flowery speech is hardly appropriate for a superior officer to his subordinate. What if someone hears you?" Riza gently chided, though she could not deny the happiness his words sparked within her. The description he made of her blonde hair styled befitting of a queen, walking towards him on their wedding day, garbed in white, his eyes alight with emotion...it was etched vividly in her mind.

Collecting herself, Riza met his gaze directly. "I appreciate your concern, Sir-...Roy," she amended at his exaggerated eyeroll. "But I am ready to return to camp and resume my duties."

She paused, expression softening. "However, I did not find your words unwelcome. Merely...unexpected." A faint blush still lingered on her cheeks. "I, too, hope to one day see that future brought to life. Where we both may find a happiness long denied to us."

Riza placed her hand in his outstretched one, fingers curling together. "But come—the present requires our focus. We have much work ahead to make that future vision a reality."

With a small smile, she gently led Roy by the hand back towards camp, heart filled with a quiet contentment. His pretty words were flattering, though premature. For now, their shared purpose must come first. But someday, when their mission was complete...perhaps such sweet fancies could become reality.

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy and Riza strolled back to the campsite, their hands entwined until Riza delicately returned his military cap to him as they neared their destination. In that fleeting exchange, Roy hoped his gestures had conveyed the love and respect Riza deserved. The significance of their mission resonated within him; they were here to aid in the reconstruction of a city left in ruins, to foster its revival from the ashes. While the task ahead was daunting, their primary focus lay on supervising and supporting the reconstruction efforts.

In the ensuing days, Roy underwent a transformation, embodying a persona driven by duty and compassion. He oversaw his troops' involvement in building shelters and communal areas, tangible manifestations of their dedication to restoring what had been lost. Observers noted Roy's hands-on approach, witnessing him personally engage in tasks like laying foundations for temporary dwellings.

A poignant incident unfolded when a pickpocket attempted to pilfer money from Roy before being stopped by a guard. Rather than meting out punishment, Roy knelt down, returning the coins to the young thief with a gentle admonition to seek help rather than resorting to theft. His demeanor radiated warmth as he affectionately patted the child's head, leaving behind an impression of empathy and understanding.

In a moment witnessed by Riza, Roy hoisted the child onto his shoulders, revealing a nurturing instinct that hinted at a paternal side to him. Walking the youngster home, Roy's actions painted a portrait of kindness and care, showcasing his capacity for guidance and support that transcended mere military authority.

Word spread among the Ishvalan refugees that military personnel, under the leadership of someone known for his friendship with the Ishvalans, were actively engaged in rebuilding their homeland. Reports emerged of Roy forging connections with Major Miles of Briggs and even Scar, as they collaborated to resettle the refugees back to Ishval for the city's reconstruction efforts.

Riza observed Roy's tireless efforts, yet even in moments of rest, she found him surrounded not only by his troops but also by refugees taking respite. He embodied the change he aspired to see, his ability to lead not just troops but entire communities, marking him as a beacon of hope and transformation. When the day of the banquet had arrived, there was laughter all around the camp as both the soldiers and civilians intermingled, eating and drinking and dancing. General Mustang, however, was nowhere to be seen despite being the core reason for the celebration and festivities even being possible having pulled some personal strings.

He had stowed away to the top of a large hill overlooking the camp, sitting down on a large stone to peer up at the marvel of the stars above him. The sounds of laughter in his ears, he sighed heavily. His heart thudding in his chest reminding him of how he longed for a few moments alone with Riza. The week had been so busy; he had worked so hard and while he was grateful and proud of his accomplishment; he needed to recharge himself.

 

[nikoru]

Riza watched the scene unfold with a mix of admiration and affection. As Roy gently lectured the young pickpocket before lifting him onto his shoulders, she was reminded of why she had devoted her life to supporting this man. Beneath his cocky exterior, Roy possessed a compassionate spirit and a yearning to help the vulnerable. The Ishvalan child was no different than the orphans she had visited when the restoration project was in its earlier stages. And like her, he could not turn a blind eye to someone in need.

Riza maintained a respectful distance as Roy escorted the boy home, not wanting to intrude. But she treasured these glimpses of his kinder side, which he often felt the need to conceal in order to preserve his ambitious image. Only in quiet moments did his truer nature shine through so purely. Like now, as he ruffled the child's hair affectionately before parting ways. His nurturing actions aligned so fully with his drive to restore and uplift the people of Ishval.

This was the man she had pledged to follow—not merely a rising political star, but one whose empathy and care for the downtrodden underscored his every deed. He sought not just personal glory, but to touch the lives of individuals like this child, shaping a better future for the next generation. As Roy made his way back, Riza gave him a small, knowing smile. "That was well handled, sir. You have a way with children."

People would remember the Flame Alchemist who guided lost youth with patience, not punishment. Just as they would remember the hero of Ishval who spearheaded reconciliation and restoration. Roy's rare blend of ambition and humanity was what drove Riza to remain always by his side. She wanted to protect the man who so ardently protected the innocent and vulnerable. She knew that there was nowhere she would rather be than supporting someone whose leadership embodied empathy and care for his people.

---

Preparations were made for the day of the banquet, and although Riza was not much of a fan, she was tasked by Major Miles to help him plan the event. This was a special day for the restoration project, as today was the groundbreaking ceremony for the Ishval Grand Temple. The temple served as the school as well as the place of worship, which meant so much for the Ishvalan's morale. Taking solace under their deity's teachings, forgiveness and understanding towards their Amestrian brothers came eventually. Major Miles headed the whole event, taking pride in reclaiming his roots. Even Scar wore his traditional Ishvalan clothes and his wrath was nowhere to be found, it was replaced with kindness unlike when he was on his alchemist killing spree back then. Even if the Lieutenant wasn't a fan of events like this, she dressed up in a pink turtleneck and matching pink skirt. To pair this outfit, she wore red heels. After all, this was just a peaceful event and there was no need to be in a uniform. However, for safety measures, she still had her pistols fastened in her legs and hidden by the skirt she wore.

Spoiler

art by aina-san on danboruu

Curious as to where the Brigadier General was, Riza made her way up the hill that they frequented in their trysts when they knew that the nation was fast asleep. There, she spotted Roy's solitary figure gazing up at the stars and the celebration happening. She hesitated, wondering if she should leave him be, but concern drew her forward.

"Roy?" Riza called him by his first name, certain that there was no one except for the both of them atop the hill.

Riza quietly approached Roy's lone silhouette atop the hill overlooking camp. She walked to him, not disturbing him by walking as gently as possible. His striking profile was etched against the starry sky as he gazed pensively into the Ishvalan celebration. Even in repose, the weight of leadership clung to him—the crease in his brow, the clench of his jaw, the tense set of his shoulders. Riza ached to smooth away the burdens he bore.

She stepped nearer, heels crunching softly on sand and gravel. Neither spoke as Riza came to stand by his side. The sounds of celebration carried on the night air—laughter, music, joy unfettered. But up here, an intimate hush cocooned them.

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" she asked in a hush, almost whispered voice.

Riza studied Roy's beloved features illuminated by the starry night sky and the fire from the celebration below—the strong cut of his jaw, the inky fringe of hair across his forehead. Fatigue lined his face, but his onyx eyes sparked with purpose as he met her amber gaze. Riza conveyed her pride, her devotion, with a smile. Her hand found his, their fingers now interlacing. Her heart stuttered as she drew him closer, his touch igniting an exquisite ache inside her.

"You've accomplished so much here and you've been pushing yourself tirelessly for months," she said, carressing Roy's cheek with her free hand. "It's all right to rest tonight, but I suppose you'd appreciate my company. After all, we haven't really seen each other today that much after all the planning that Major Miles made me do."

Then, she ruffle his hair into a mess giggling, then pinching his cheek. "You've become a really good boy," she said, not understanding how it sounded so suggestive to anyone who might hear it.

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy's eyes surveyed the encampment below him, taking in the sight of numerous Ishvalan refugees who had gathered from all corners of Amestris. He pondered whether this could signify a fresh start, a new chapter bridging Ishvalans and Amestrians. A smile tugged at his lips as he observed the crowd below, immersed in songs and drinks, while he rested his chin in his palms. Yes, this could indeed work, Roy thought, a surge of pride washing over him. However, his thoughts soon turned reflective as he reminisced about the past days, recalling a moment when Riza had commended him for his efforts, highlighting his unexpected affinity with children.

"That was well handled, sir. You have a way with children," Riza remarked, a smug smile gracing her lips.

Roy met her gaze briefly, replying with a confident tone, "Yeah, I'm quite adept at that, aren't I?" Their shared laughter filled the air before Roy moved past her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and leaning in to whisper something more sincere. "Be cautious, Mrs. Hawkeye, for one day I might just want one of those of my own." With a mischievous grin, he let go and made his way back, the moment lingering in the muted air between them as he stepped on by without another word. He'd let those words slowly take root. And why wouldn't he? When the thought was clearly a firm image in his own mind?

As the day of the banquet arrived, Major Miles whisked Riza away from Roy's side, leaving him to supervise the ongoing construction efforts that had resulted in the creation of a sanctuary for the Ishvalans and their beliefs. Roy had played a pivotal role in its construction, working alongside the troops and refugees who possessed a keen understanding of what was required for the structure. While it didn't rival the grand temple in the city center, the Ishvalans expressed their gratitude for the gesture.

During the ceremony marking the sanctuary's opening for prayers, Major Miles initiated a song, albeit with questionable musical talent. Perplexed, Roy turned to an elder Ishvalan priest to confirm if this was the customary singing style, receiving an affirmative nod. Following suit, the elder then joined in, only for Roy to notice Scar, donned in monk's robes, hesitating before reluctantly joining the off-key chorus.

The discordant singing left Roy contemplating whether perhaps alchemy and firearms weren't their only assets in the war—their musical abilities seemed equally potent, albeit in a less desirable way. Letting out a heavy sigh, Roy attempted to discreetly slip away, but found himself ensnared by two of the singers, who enveloped him in a hearty embrace, launching into a rendition that seemed to challenge the very concept of harmony. Eventually extricating himself from the impromptu trio, Roy silently gave thanks to any divine entity listening, grateful to escape what felt like retribution, enduring the auditory assault of three musically challenged men attempting, and failing, to hit the right notes.

All things considered, though, it had been a day of jubilation and merriment. They achieved their goal, boosted morale, and things were starting to improve.

"Roy?" A voice called to him, and Roy stood and turned to see Riza, dressed in a pale pink skirt that reached halfway down her slender, shapely legs.

She wore a matching pink turtleneck with her long blonde hair drifting over the material covering her shoulders. Roy smiled. Glee was evident in his eyes immediately as he stuck his hands in his pockets. He felt like a kid again, trying to confess to his schoolyard sweetheart. Maybe he was, because he'd known Riza a long time. Her father had been his teacher and Roy was her father's prodigy. That all seemed like a lifetime ago, and maybe it was. Her father had thrown him out when learning Roy had joined the military.

"Well? Come on over here!" Roy said playfully, watching the woman approach slowly, seeing that she found it difficult to walk in anything but boots. He approached, meeting her half way before he took her hand carefully in his. He steadied her with his arms as she drew nearer to him.

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" She looked at him, then up at the sky.

"Yeah," Roy agreed, his eyes solely on Riza, watching as her face lit up beautifully as it basked in the moons iridescent glow. Her eyes sparkled and shimmered more brightly than any star. "It's beautiful alright," He murmured, silently admitting how much trouble he was in because he realized how badly he'd fallen for her. And though he was captivated by her, he peeled his eyes from her and forcing himself stare up at the sky even if his moon was right at his side.

"Truly unforgettable." Roy remarked quietly, continuing to look at the sea of stars, and as her hand slid more comfortably into his rough textured hand, they laced their fingers together without another word.

An overwhelming sense of euphoria surged through Roy, igniting a fire within him that left him fervent and intoxicated, craving more, always more. Riza turned towards him, her gentle hand reaching up to caress the five o'clock shadow adorning his face. "You've achieved so much here, tirelessly pushing yourself for months," she commended, coaxing a smile from him despite his attempt to mask it. "It's okay to rest tonight, but I believe you'd enjoy my company. We haven't had much time together today, thanks to Major Miles and his relentless planning."

"He's not still serenading, is he?" Roy quipped with a melodramatic sigh. "I'd sooner face a bayonet than endure another verse from that man." His exaggerated expression earned a chuckle from Riza.

"Well, your presence is... greatly valued by this weary soldier," Roy replied, leaning in to gently press his lips against her warm, velvety cheek.

"You've become a really good boy," Riza said, ruffling his dark hair and inflicting a playful annoyance on Roy, who leaned back and away.

"Hey! I am not Black Hayate!" Roy retorted firmly, chuckling as he moved behind Riza, capturing her other hand and encircling her within his embrace, his arms securing hers around her own form.

Roy held Riza still momentarily, then kissed her other cheek softly letting his head slowly poke into her periphery. With his eyes locked on Riza's, his eyes softened considerably as his voice deepened and lowered its octave, becoming low and gravelly as he spoke to her softly. As he stood there behind her, Roy's body was strong and resolute, letting her lean back into him at her leisure, letting her sink into the safety net of his arms which held her still. Ine releasing her hands, he turned Riza to face him head on, with the moon casting its light upon their faces. His hands held her hips firmly, his eyes warmly drifting up and down the face of the woman in front of him.


"Beautiful." He gingerly caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and knuckles, trailing them up and down. "Think I might not be okay; I seem to have fallen incredibly hard for someone." He whispered quietly his words soft. "Thought I had learned my lesson a long time ago, but I don't care." He shook his head smiling as tears of joy started to creep up. "I just want her all to myself...I want you all to myself." He admitted, then kissed Riza long and slow, a feverish warmth burning him down from the inside out as he then leaned his head to hers. "I used to avoid this feeling like the plague. Too many heart aches, too many sleepless nights. But can I ask for this? Can I have this, just...just this once? Please?"

 

[nikoru]

Riza was deeply moved by Roy's words, which reflected the connection and affection between them. She has long cared for him, but duty and decorum held her back from fully expressing her feelings. It seemed like forever since they had time alone together even thought it was just a day. Now, with Roy's heart laid bare, Riza felt able to reciprocate with how they had forgiven themselves after their dangerous trust exercise back in the ruined temple.

They kissed with ardent fervor, almost too much but always never enough. Roy broke the kiss momentarily, asking... no, pleading for more. Gently cupping Roy's cheek, Riza gazed into his eyes with tenderness. "You don't have to ask, Roy," she said, breathing heavily and her voice laced with neediness. "I'm yours as you are mine."

Riza had confessed that she loved Roy for years, but never dreamed he returned her affection so completely. This moment they shared seemed like a far-fetched dream she would have during nights where she would wake up disappointed because it ended. The restraints of rank and file melt away and all that remains is the love between them, rising like the dawn after a long night. The fraternization rules did not apply now, however unfair that seemed. The military ethics they swore to uphold was long forgotten in this moment. His boldness empowers her own. She planted feather-light kisses along the features of his handsome face with much passion and adoration from his lips to eyes to his nose to his cheeks then ears, stopping at his neck's pulse point as she inhaled his scent with a smile on her lips while placing repeated gentle kisses in the sensitive spot.

"I want you, Roy," the Lieutenant said, her heartbeat deafening her ears as the situation escalated. "Here and now."

 

[Damien Hughes]

Roy could feel the warmth of Riza's affections as she stared into his eyes, her honey-dew colored irises baring a tenderness he felt he didn't deserve, but couldn't stop himself from being lost in. The devotion she had always shown him was as though a promise to him one worth fighting for. Her hand had slowly lifted and cupped his face with a gentle, loving sensation that made Roy's heart ache because he'd wanted some kind of confirmation from this woman that he if he found the courage in himself, he could venture beyond the threshold they were at. They were always reminded of the military obligations and how they were, making it a big step to be sure.

Roy could feel the warmth of Riza's affections as she stared into his eyes, her honey-dew colored irises baring a tenderness he felt he didn't deserve, but couldn't stop himself from being lost in. The devotion she had always shown him was as though a promise to him one worth fighting for. Her hand had slowly lifted and cupped his face with a gentle, loving sensation that made Roy's heart ache because he'd wanted some kind of confirmation from this woman that if he found the courage in himself, he could venture beyond the threshold they were at. They were always reminded of the military obligations and how they were, making it a big step to be sure.

"You don't have to ask, Roy," Riza finally answered quickly while they stood amongst the stars and moon. "I'm yours as you are mine." Riza told, her breath heated the in the space between the two in the chill of the night air.

He knew she was right, but something had always given Roy pause. Not in that kind of way....yet. Truth be told he’d wanted….to be closer, much much closer. He wanted t o inhale the fragrance that lingered throughout the day, always filling his thoughts of how she tasted sweet like summer berries of her chapstick, or the rich, sweet, and sensual allure of jasmine perfume permeating Riza’s soft skin.

And he received it. Every last ounce, every bit he could feel her nervous, and shyness could give. He didn’t want this moment to end. But he found with each kiss she confided in hi,.

"You don't have to ask, Roy," Riza said quite unexpectedly, making her General tilt his head.

“Riza, I was just… I just can’t claim you, you’re much too precious to me to just…take. I want you to want me too .” He asserted.

"I'm yours as you are mine." Riza said, and suddenly the jokester, the womanizer–everything he hid behind came crumbling. Could he really have her? Or was this a prank?? He turned towards Riza, with a face more certain–more warm than she’d ever seen him be.

“Riza Gruman Hawkeye, will you be my wife? Because I know without you I am nothing, not even truly alive”

He suddenly pauses. Major Armstrong, what are you doing??” Mustang said, curbing his annoyance.


“They suggested I come!” Alex retorted then flexed. “You are the manliest men to bare your soul!

Roy looked over at Havoc, Rebecca, Fallman, Breda, and Feury. Eye twitching in growing rage.

 

[nikoru]

Ishval Station, Ishval
1730H

The train from Central finally arrived in Ishval's newest train station, a fine addition to the infrastructure of the desert country. A group of men stepped out with their baggage, looking forward to seeing their comrades who were sent to the Ishval Restoration Project for almost one year and eight months. Although they have been exchanging letters and pictures, their lives had been a bit dull ever since the duo went to the land of the Earth God. They did paperwork here and there, and even tried to justify their insubordination during the Promised Day through heaps of reports and narratives. However, they had their lucky break as Major Miles invited them to come to the celebration for the groundbreaking ceremony of the newly constructed Ishval Temple. Of course, they had to come, and planned this visit as an opportunity to surprise both Mustang and Hawkeye. After all, they knew that it would be welcomed as they haven't been complete in ages. They were all wearing their casual clothes, as they went here for vacation and not for work.

"I am so excited to see General Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye!" Havoc chirped as he slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, the rest of the Team Mustang following behind him. Catalina was also with him, trying to walk as closely to Havoc as she can. It was evident that they developed a close relationship after meeting during the Promised Day, but they haven't officially put a label on it even though they went on countless dates.

Fuery and Falman were exchanging their thoughts regarding the improving communication lines between Central City and Ishval, commenting on the clearer phone reception and faster lines. The spectacled man was talking about the technicalities, but the older man just nodded in fascination and thinking how the principles could be used in the North where extreme temperatures also affected the lines.

Breda, on the other hand, was already in one of the food stands that offered Ishvalan delicacies. There was a promo that if the person did not eat the complementary bread nor drink any water after eating a stick of their specialty barbecue, then it would be free. However, the excitable redhead immediately felt the heat creep up his face as he took a bite of the red skewered meat, earning a giggle from the elderly Ishvalan lady who sold them. He immediately grabbed a glass of water that the vendor had on demand, already used to the people who fell for this silly tourist trap promo. Breda also laughed heartily with the elderly woman as he paid for the barbecue, enjoying the meat as he ate it slowly with the bread that came complementary to the dish. The barbecue paired nicely with the bread, and the man took a mental note to buy some before he went back to his station.

Following the rowdy team was a tall blond man, his muscles rippling through his tight white shirt. Some of the Ishvalans recognized him from somewhere... and this is his first time feeling a tinge of shame that he was the Strongarm Alchemist, one of the soldiers who laid ruin in this land. But being with his older sister Olivier, he learned how to steel his nerves and strengthen his mental fortitude. He took a deep breath, and focused on the fact that he would be meeting his two beloved friends later.

When the team reached their inn, Major Armstrong was surprised at the warm hospitality that the citizens displayed. Serving for the Ishvalan War of Extermination weakened his spirit, but seeing the progress and the state of the people made him proud of Mustang who vowed to restore the city to its former glory. The team checked in and left their belongings to their respective rooms, then prepared for the banquet later. Fuery wore a simple white buttoned shirt with black slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Breda wore a baby blue shirt paired with beige pants. Falman was wearing a plain cream shirt with a brown coat, laughing when he saw Havoc wearing a matching pink lovey-dovey couple shirt with Rebecca, who was holding a sign that said: WE MISSED YOU, GEN. MUSTANG AND LT. HAWKEYE ♡. Armstrong went out, extremely overdressed for the occassion, wearing a sparkly purple tuxedo that cannot be closed in his chest area due to his pecs, and it was ready to rip because of his bulging arm muscles.

---

The team was fashionably late, sticking like a sore thumb amidst the Ishvalans who wore their traditional robes. However, this did not stop Major Miles and Scar from welcoming them and inviting them to the celebration. They had their fair share of fun: Kain and Vato chatting with some of the Ishvalans, Breda sampling out each and every dish he could which earned an astonished look from the locals, and Rebecca and Jean dancing to the lively music.

Armstrong, just looked at them with a bitter smile in his face. Years ago, he was sent to this land to lay down destruction... but now he witnessed this joyous celebration. He shook his head to prevent ruminating, remembering his sister who helped him deal with his past trauma. With a smile, he tried to find Mustang and Hawkeye in the crowd... then he saw a blonde girl donning pink clothes.

"Lieutenant...?" he murmured to himself as he followed the blonde girl who looked awfully like Riza. But it didn't seem like her, this girl looked genuinely happy and radiant unlike the stoic Lieutenant they knew. The rest of Team Mustang followed her to the top of the hill, where they saw her talk with a guy who looked awfully like Roy.

But this couple atop the hill were never like the soldiers they knew from Central—they looked like lovestruck teenagers who were meeting in secret. They all hid behind a nearby tree as they spied on their exchange, seeing and hearing their declarations of love. Their eyes widened and Havoc even covered Rebecca's mouth to prevent her from screaming after they all saw Riza—her Riza, who never showed an ounce of emotion, most especially affection—kiss the General.

"Riza Grumman Hawkeye, will you be my wife?" Roy proposed quite unexpectedly. Riza felt her world stop as everything fell into its rightful place, as she knew that she would be nowhere else to be except with her beloved Roy Mustang. She remained quiet as the question kept repeating over and over again inside her head, her eyes glossy from the tears of happiness that threatened to fall.

"Because I know without you I am nothing, not even truly alive," he added, bursting the dam of emotions that the blonde woman tried to hide for so long. She hastily wiped her tears with her sleeve, laughing at how stupid this all was. Love had made the both of them stupid, but she was happy.

"Oh, Roy... you know that my answer would always be—"

Rebecca finally broke from Havoc's restraint, accidentally pushing Armstrong. Usually the huge man wouldn't even budge, but given their awkward position of trying to fit behind the tree took all of them out of balance.

"Major Armstrong, what are you doing?" the raven-haired man said, his eyes squinting at the huge man who just ruined his moment.

"They suggested I come!" the muscled man reasoned, wiping his tears as he was so moved with the proposal, his muscles flexing in the process. "You are the manliest men to bare your soul!"

"Uhh... congrats, Sir...?" Vato awkwardly said, his hand on his nape and averting his gaze. He still couldn't believe that his two superior officers were making out. Hell, he won't believe it if he didn't see it with his own two eyes. Fuery and Breda were speechless, the two of them beet red from the romantic scene that just unfolded.

Havoc sighed as Rebecca rushed towards her bestfriend, giving her a tight hug. "I missed you, Riza!" she exclaimed.

"Rebecca, you didn't tell me that you were coming..." Riza said softly, trying to cool off her burning cheeks and ease her beating heart. "If you told me then we would have..."

"Riza, you didn't tell us that you were already in a relationship with General Mustang! Not even in the letters or calls!" the curly-haired woman retorted. She looked at Roy then back to Riza with a suspicious look, as if insinuating something. Riza looked at her general, asking for help but he seemed like he's ready to devour Team Mustang for ruining his proposal for his lieutenant.

"C'mon, Becky. You know that it's just a matter of time 'til they get together," Havoc added, wrapping an arm around Roy's neck and ruffling his raven-hair with his hand.

"But you know I didn't expect to see you right in the middle of action, you cheeky man," Havoc said, smirking as he let go of the General.

Armstrong just stood their in silence, his eyes watering from happiness. He never thought he would see the day that this would happen, filling his heart with so much joy.

 

[Damien Hughes]

"Oh, Roy...you know my answer would always be--" Riza's response both vaulted his spirits heaven-bound making his heart thud heavily in his chest as the sheer excitement made him want to lean just a little bit closer—but her answer wouldn't come and his heart that beat so heavily in his ear drums, freeze still and throb in his throat as if to choke him dead.

Then he noticed it. The unmistakeably large, muscular shape protruding from the bushes of a nearby tree. With his eye twinging from something resembling frustration and possibly complete mental anguish. "Major Armstrong...what are you doing?"

"They suggested I come!" the incredulously tall, and muscularly built Alex Louise Armstrong answered nervously."You are the manliest men to bear your soul!" Alex then said, his shirt and jacket exploding as he flexed reflexively. Mustang, however, was not in the mood to be amused.

"Uhh... congrats, Sir...?" Vato said sheepishly.

"V-Vato?! Breda--Feury!?" Roy answered in surprise. The idea that everyone had heard what he had said, what he had confessed and omitted in the ignorance of not having seen them somehow, was sinking in and the humiliation was in hot pursuit.

Like poison it seeped into his veins with the icy chill of apathy as nothing seemed to matter, his brain drifted into overdrive and te voices once familiar became so distant and everything in him screamed: Run. Run away. It hurts too bad, everything his hurting and there's no saving it.

"I missed you, Riza!" Rebecca called out excitedly, breaking free and rushing to Riza.


"Rebecca, you didn't tell me that you were coming..." Riza seemed almost as shocked as he was, though in her usual cool way, dismissive of what had transpired, of what was going to happen. "If you told me then we would have..."

Roy's heart throbbed painfully. It felt like a knife were twisting and it's way into his chest. Why? Why was this happening? What was her answer going to be? Roy's eyes glazed slightly as they searched for something that seemed all too lost.

"Riza, you didn't tell us that you were already in a relationship with General Mustang! Not even in the letters or calls!" Rebecca stated playfully.

"C'mon, Becky. You know that it's just a matter of time 'til they get together," Havoc restorted, his arm looping around a seemingly oblivious Roy. "But you know I didn't expect to see you right in the middle of action, you cheeky man,"

Roy heard Jean's voice as he looked at him slowly, something was most definitely off about Roy.

Run. Run away. It hurts too much. the words made the world spin and his legs seemed incapable of carrying him anywhere but he shrugged off Havoc.

"I...I have to go. Something...something has come to my attention." Roy said slowly, wincing as he clutched his head. Everything was hurting all at once. Roy marched away from the collective group, including Riza...

--------------

As the night wore on, Roy found himself once again the banquet. As a represenative, he was to help oversee the communial dance around a large bonfire. His dark eyes would be lost in the flames though. His heart had sunk so low from where it had soared so high.Maybe he was a fool, maybe he'd been lying to himself; seeing, hoping something more was there. Wanting it so bad he felt like sticking his hands into the open flames just to feel warm again even while bearing seared for it. Was this what love truly was? Was there nothing more for to be than Furher? Could he be literally nothing else in the eyes of the one person he wanted to be anything but a rank to?

As he deliberated, a young girl of perhaps 13 shyly approached asking if would dance with her. At first, he was about to politely refuse, but something made him stop. Something mad him yield, made him relent to the request. So with a muted nod, and one arm behind his back, sharply dressed now in a black ensemble that matched his unruly dark hair, and fierce dark eyes. With his other he took the girl's hand politely, and led her nearer the fire where everyone else had gone to dance. After the dance the girl thanked him graciously and talked about how their efforts had really begun to make a difference.

Roy listened to the young, silver-haired girl with vibrant ruby colored eyes looked at him with wide-eyed glee at him. Her expression was priceless, and he thought he had just found a quiet admirer of himself. But he couldn't help himself but look over his shoulder in silent observation almost as if he had to make sure Riza was indeed, still there.

"Arre you two married like my parents?" the child suddently questioned.

"M-Married?" Roy asked then looked at Riza again, watching her intently; how she politely smiled, how she acted so forthrightly and proper in respect. He knew she was probably internally begging for forgiveness for all she had done. Seeking a peace, she could never seem to quite find.

"Yeah! Married! Don't you love her?" The girl would ask; it was truly innocent enough.

Roy drew his gaze away from Riza reluctantly, smiling at the fawning girl in front of hm. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone--more than I could love myself." He answered so truthfully, he didn't quite expect how much the truth would or could ever hurt so much. How was it loving someone could hurt so bad? How, why could he ever want something so badly?

"I think she's really pretty!" the maiden would proclaim. Roy simply smiled, quietly nodding.

"Yeah...sometimes I catch myself thinking I'm dreaming," Roy murmured, his eyes drifting to the floor as he remained crouched down to eye level. The thoughts coursing through his mind were not the times that were public. Roy knew that was only a facade, it was something she wanted to present the world so she'd believe she was stronger than she ever really was.

Roy knew in the depths of his being that Riza was much more fragile that she ever would allow others to think. He knew that if she felt weak and helpless in front of others, she felt like she was letting them down, it was like she eore a mask of invulnerability to make those around her feel safe, feel appreciated. If that mask ever cracked, ever broke, she'd not know what to do with herslf because if she wasn't strong for the ones she cared for, then what the hell good was she, anyway?

That part of Riza frustrated him. He wondered quite often if Riza truly understood that she was safe with him. That all her nightmares, all the pain--he would carry it for her if she'd just asked. But he knew the truth: she did feel safe with him. She'd always trusted and believed in him even if everyone else faltered, she was right there. The seasons changed, the days could come and go and life could crashing down in all directions, but she trusted him with everything she was. She was always the one constant in his life.

Roy stood upright with a straight back as he waved at the girl as she returned with friends who'd gathered to support her. I made Roy understand that what Havoc and the other's must've been trying to do: show support to two people they cared about, hoping that they too had found some measure of peace and joy in a life that had been laden with such grief and guilt, and shame. Roy stood there watching the fires flicker, crackle, and pop before someone unexpected, but wholly on his mind approached him next, and he turned to face them, still hoping there could be something more...