#at riza and then looking away. harrowing.

[by-nina]

Your Secrets are Safe With Me

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2020 | Day 3 – Old wounds Rating: K+ Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 532

He cannot hold her close as she breaks down, he cannot wipe her tears, he cannot whisper reassurances in her ear. He tries not to delude himself with the hope that they may be able to do any of these someday.

In the odd, early hours of the morning, Roy can just make out Riza’s silhouette on his bed. Her shoulder rises and falls rhythmically, and she has one arm around an equally comfortable Hayate. What a relief to see her so quiet and calm at last, far from the absolute mess she had been when she appeared at his door not even two hours ago. The way she looked—the way her sobs sounded had made it impossible for Roy to fall asleep, more than the discomfort of the couch to which he had been relegated.

            There are favors that can be exchanged only between two people such as themselves, who have shared both their innocent formative years as well as the singular harrowing experience of becoming monsters in Ishval. And at some point, they came to this agreement: either may spend the night at the other’s place whenever they are in need of company, no questions asked.

            Roy has done this himself countless times. He has had many nights when the smell of the bodies he’d burned came back to him, when furious red eyes burned themselves into his mind again before becoming drained of all life. Each time that he has found himself at his worst, he has run to Riza, and he has let her run to him for perhaps as many times in return—but he has never truly known what came back to haunt her on any given night. She has far too many old wounds to count; some of them she had sustained as a soldier, others as a daughter, and many more as some other version of herself in between.

            The Riza on his bed now is the Riza he likes best. A Riza who is at peace, a Riza who has momentarily forgotten the things she has done and the horrors she has been through. He is grateful for this Riza because he has never seen her forgive herself in any waking moment. He is certain that he had agreed to this exchange of favors so she could have the chance to be this Riza. And he would stay on any number of old couches to let her retreat to this safe space, for as many nights as she would need to heal—even if healing is nowhere in sight.

            Roy notices a stray lock of hair that has fallen across her cheek, just touching her lips, and he has just enough sense to keep himself from brushing it away. Physical touch isn’t part of their agreement. He cannot hold her close as she breaks down, he cannot wipe her tears, he cannot whisper reassurances in her ear. He tries not to delude himself with the hope that they may be able to do any of these someday. She doesn’t need other burdens, least of all him, when he isn’t blameless, when he has his own demons to wrestle with, demons that he brings to her when it’s his turn to seek her company.

            At the very least, he can make her a cup of coffee when she wakes up. She has been here enough times for him to know just how she likes it.

[jeminy3]

Hughes/Hawkeye Swap/Apprentice Hughes AU Outline

notes and general outline for my ideas for a FMA AU that swaps Riza and Hughes' roles in the story. includes lesbian Riza and self-indulgent Roy/Hughes shipping, but you can imagine it's platonic if you want.

Original Art Post Here

Read on AO3 Here

Read on Google Docs Here

AU in which Hughes and Hawkeye switch roles. Hughes is Roy's First Lieutenant and bodyguard with the secrets of Flame Alchemy tattooed on his back, Riza is Roy's best friend and informant within Central's investigation team.

- Berthold Hawkeye refuses to teach Riza Alchemy, being old-fashioned and wishing to protect his daughter from that lifestyle. Instead he opens up an apprenticeship to any teen boys willing to learn. He receives one in the form of a young Roy Mustang.

But things become complicated when a 2nd boy by the name of Maes Hughes also arrives to accept the apprenticeship. Neither him or Roy want to back down, so Berthold wearily agrees to teach them both on the condition that only one of them will receive advanced studies if they earn his trust and approval. Roy and Maes agree.

What follows is 2-3 years of Roy and Maes competing as rival apprentices as they live with the Hawkeyes in their estate, slowly growing from bitter rivals to close friends (with tenuous romantic/sexual feelings for each other later on).

Roy is petty and competitive, eager to prove himself against Maes as the better Alchemist and earn his Master's respect, hopefully enough to learn the secrets of his infamous Flame Alchemy research. Maes only wished to learn basic Alchemy at first, but he's driven to try harder as he butts heads with Roy, taking great pleasure in knocking the ambitious boy down a few pegs and seeing him frustrated.

Meanwhile, a young Riza watches them from afar, then eventually befriends the two, admitting from her observations of them that they actually seem to like each other's company. Roy and Maes vehemently disagree with this, too proud to admit otherwise.

This becomes obvious as the adolescents' sexuality comes into bloom (Roy and Riza being gay, and Maes being bisexual), with Riza being the first one who becomes comfortable in who she is and what she likes, and keeps trying to encourage the boys do the same. But their pride and stubbornness keeps getting in the way of admitting their attraction to each other.

+ Eventually a harrowing event or two brings them closer, like the Academy OVA

Things change as Roy's ambition shifts, and he shows interest in joining the military and helping his country with its constant wars. Riza shares similar interests, but this draws Berthold's ire. He pushes them away in favor of Maes, who he deems his most trustworthy apprentice now.

Maes shares similar sentiments with his friends, but he's better about hiding them from his Master. After hearing about Berthold's Flame Alchemy from Roy and Riza, his inquisitive nature made him curious to learn the secrets, so he's been staying on Berthold's good side to earn his trust. He aims to share the secrets with his friends once he gets them.

Once Berthold makes it clear he favors Maes, Roy makes clear his desire to join the Academy and parts ways with his Master. He begrudgingly bids farewell to his friends before he leaves. (He's almost 18, several months older than Maes, and nearly 4 years older than Riza.)

Roy promises to see Riza on the battlefield and fight with her someday. His parting with Maes is more tense, as they've finally settled their differences and become friends, but still haven't resolved their deeper feelings for each other. Maes isn't clear on whether or not he will join Roy at the Academy, despite showing interest earlier. Instead, Roy hesitantly promises to see him again, and Maes promises likewise.

Roy spends several months adjusting to Academy life, then is surprised when the next batch of students has Maes among them. He joined after all, saying he stopped his studies with Master Hawkeye because he no longer wants to become an Alchemist, and has signed up as an average soldier, like Roy. He doesn't go into detail about his decision, but Roy assumes it's because Maes finally stood up for himself and what he really believes in, rebelling against Master Hawkeye.

No longer rivals, and being more mature, Roy and Maes revive their friendship and finally come to terms with their feelings for each other. Maes admits to grappling with heartbreak after Roy left, making him finally realize the true nature of his feelings. Roy admits to missing Maes in a similar way since coming here. Eventually, they confess their love for each other and become an item.

But Roy notices Maes having a strange paranoia over his body that wasn't there before, never undressing in front of anyone and being more private in his bathing rituals. Sleeping together is also off-limits. Roy wonders about this but respects Maes' preferences, trying to be a good boyfriend.

They survive the rest of their Academy training and graduate with flying colors, all the while enjoying an overall happy relationship together. Roy is a strong soldier and natural leader, and Hughes proves to be an accomplished marksman and sniper.

Roy and Maes return to the Hawkeye Estate to visit Riza, like they promised her. She's happy to see them, and even more happy that they finally hooked up. But things are tense under the surface, and Riza admits that her father is on his deathbed. Roy agrees to see him, but Maes suddenly becomes quiet and distant, and refuses to see him. Riza seems to understand, and takes him aside while Roy meets with Berthold.

The dying Berthold gives his parting words to Roy, admitting he would have favored Roy with his secrets had he not agreed to join the military, and it seems he made a mistake in trusting Maes after all, since he followed the same path. But what's done is done. Roy asks about happened to the secrets of his research. Berthold forces a chuckle, remarking that Roy should know about this already.

Roy asks what he means by this. Berthold admits that he gave the secrets to Maes not long before he left for the Academy. But apparently, Maes never told him this.

Regardless, Berthold makes Roy promise to watch over his daughter and keep Maes' secrets safe, only using Flame Alchemy for a good cause. Roy is confused, but agrees to this. He comforts Berthold as he takes his dying breaths.

Afterward, Roy finds Riza and Maes comforting each other in Riza's bedroom, and confronts them over what he's been told. He demands to know what Maes has been hiding from him, feeling hurt. Maes gets upset, and Riza calms them both, telling Roy that it isn't personal, it's been very hard for Maes and she only found out about it after he left for the Academy.

Roy wants to know what "it" is - so, Riza gently encourages Maes to take off his shirt. Hesitantly, with great pains, Maes does this - revealing a series of Alchemy tattoos covering most of his back, containing the secrets to Flame Alchemy.

+ Alternative: Roy walks into the room just as Maes is showing his back to Riza, causing even more shock and confusion.

Roy is shocked and horrified. Maes forces a calm, nonchalant tone as he relays how he earned Berthold's trust, but only enough to earn his secrets in a way he could never actually use them. Instead he was coerced into being their keeper, sedated and operated on by a tattoo artist Berthold hired. The operation and grueling recovery was a terrible, violating experience, and has ruined Maes' passion for Alchemy entirely, to the point that he hates and avoids it now. As soon as he was able, he quietly slipped away from the Hawkeye Estate, returned home, then left to join Roy at the Academy to become a soldier. He finally breaks down as he apologizes profusely to Roy for never telling him about this, even when they became an item.

The two embrace, with Roy understanding of Maes now and saying he should apologize for getting mad and assuming the worst. He promises to be better to Maes, as long as he doesn't hide things from him anymore. He loves him, and if they're going to survive together, they need to be honest and trusting with each other. Maes tearfully agrees. Riza comforts them both.

Afterwards, Roy uses his soldier's pay to arrange a proper burial for Berthold, and the three mourn at his grave. Roy relays his dreams to help his country from the bottom up, even if he's just a disposable soldier. Maes agrees with him and promises to stay by his side, and offers to give Roy the secrets on his back so he can revive his dream of becoming a State Alchemist. Roy accepts this, especially coming from his boyfriend. Riza is warmed by all this, and promises to support them as well, once she's able to. Roy leaves a business card with her so she can look for him after she graduates from the Academy.

Roy and Maes return to Roy's new apartment in Central, moving in together and working to decode the tattoo. Once they do, Roy develops his method of Flame Alchemy, inventing the ignition gloves. He trains until he feels ready, then applies for his State License, impressing the Fuhrer and others with his flames. He earns the title of The Flame Alchemist. Maes supports him from the sidelines as best he can, still very nervous around Alchemy, especially this kind.

Then, Roy is deployed to Ishval, with Maes following soon afterward. They're separated for a time, but eventually meet again in a tearful reunion. Roy has become a murderer, and their idealistic dreams have shattered.

Eventually they also reunite with Riza, who has become an unofficial squad Captain. She's graduated early, showing a penchant for investigation, strategy, and knife-throwing. The three friends take comfort in each other in this terrible time.

On a good note, Riza reveals she has a girlfriend in Central named Gracia, and she plans to marry her once they go back home. Roy and Maes are happy for her - but also a bit sad, since their careers prevent them from doing the same due to fraternization laws.

Once it's over, Roy changes his dream to ascending the ranks and becoming the next Fuhrer, protecting everyone beneath him with his newfound leadership responsibilities. Maes and Riza pledge to support him to the bitter end.

Before going back home, Maes approaches Roy privately, and asks him to burn his tattoo. He feels equally responsible for the lives Roy's taken with his flames, and has decided the secrets need to be destroyed to prevent the possibility of another Flame Alchemist being created. He has discussed this with Riza beforehand, who agreed. Roy refuses to hurt Maes at first, but after some begging and arguing, he finally relents.

After Ishval, Roy is promoted to Lt. Colonel and transferred to East HQ under General Grumman, Riza's grandfather whom she pulls strings with. Maes is promoted to 2nd Lieutenant and assigned as Roy's personal aide and bodyguard, trusting no one else with the role. Maes will protect his back like Roy did for his, and put a bullet in it if he strays from his path toward Fuhrer. Riza is transferred to Central to join their investigations department, working on the inside to supply Roy with information.

Over the years, Riza marries Gracia, and Roy and Maes attend their wedding as her best men. Months later, a sperm donor is used to help Gracia become pregnant, and they welcome the arrival of their daughter, Elicia.

The rest is mostly the same as canon besides the reversed roles, and Roy and Maes have a somewhat-secret relationship that they struggle to keep balanced and healthy between their professional lives, power imbalances, and promises to each other.

+ Possible: Riza's fast enough to narrowly avoid dying at the hands of Envy, but she does have to go into hiding and/or ends up in a coma. If comatose, she only revives after The Promised Day - the Nationwide Transmutation Circle takes her soul out of her body and Hohenheim's counter-circle returns it, causing a sort of hard-reset on her consciousness and returning her to the waking world. After recovering, she is happily reunited with her friends and family (but is probably worse for wear, due to the bullet wound and whatever resulting injuries or nerve damage it caused).

[fullmetalscullyy]

My Every Road Leads To You - Chapter 1

Detective Roy Mustang is brought in to head the case of a high-profile kidnapping. The Hawkeye family’s daughter is being held for ransom and he is tasked with finding her before tragedy strikes.

Rated: T

Words: 1432

part 1 - a flame that still burns | part 2 | part 3

read on ao3 and ffnet

a flame that still burns

“Got a new case for you Mustang,” Grumman announced, tossing a manila folder on his desk. Roy looked up from his paperwork, his pen smudging as the folder hit it. He frowned.

“Can I ask what this one is about?” he asked, trying to keep the sour tone out of his voice. He had spent all morning on that report and now it was ruined. However, it wasn’t like Grumman to drop a case on him. The man was eccentric in general, not just as a boss, but this was unusual.

“A personal request.” His voice was hard, face pulled tight. That explained it.

“Okay, I’ll take a look.”

“I love these guys, but this is time sensitive and you’re my best detective.”

He would have smirked at the praise bulking up his ego, but Roy’s attention was diverted by the picture and the name on the file.

Riza Hawkeye. Kidnapped 24/03/19. Missing for two days.

Riza Hawkeye… He hadn’t heard or thought about that name in, what, twelve, thirteen years? They had gone to school together. Kidnapped… Roy swallowed. He didn’t want to think about the kind, quiet girl he had shared a class with for four years before his parents moved away from East City to Central being kidnapped.

From what he remembered she had been one of the rich kids. Most of the class had been, however Riza had never been one to rub it in his face. Roy had come from a considerably poorer background. His parents had worked their fingers to the bone to get him into that school. With the help of his Aunt they had done it though, something he was grateful for every day.

“What do I need to know?” Roy asked, settling back in his chair as his eyes skimmed over the rest of her file.

“Taken from her apartment in Central. From what we determine it was about two days ago,” Grumman began. “No signs of forced entry, but there was a struggle.” Roy swallowed, but nodded. Glancing up when Grumman’s paused, he noticed his boss was having a difficult time with this. “Blood in the carpet. DNA match showed it was Riza’s.”

Shit. “Sir –”

“Another set of prints left on the bedroom and front door,” Grumman forged ahead. He knew for Roy to do his job effectively, Roy would need to know everything about her background and her living situation before she was kidnapped. “We’re running them to find a match as we speak. There are photos in the file, towards the back. If you’d like to see the scene, I can have that arranged.”

“Any suspects so far?” Roy asked, clinically analysing every little detail laid out in front of him. “Any jilted lovers? Someone who would seek revenge on her?”

Grumman shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m… not in contact with that side of the family. Riza only sought me out a few months ago, and it was her alone. My daughter died when Riza was only a child.” Roy was surprised to learn that. In the four years they had been in each other’s company she had never mentioned not having a mother. “Father moved away to East City after Teresa passed away and never told me where he went.”

“I went to school with her,” Roy murmured, looking at the pictures of Riza’s apartment.

“Riza?” Grumman sounded incredibly surprised.

“Yeah. We were in the same class. Then my parents moved to Central.”

“Can you help her?” Roy met Grumman’s desperate gaze. “Riza’s very private and never mentioned her personal life to me, which I understand. However, we’re all each other have left. I won’t lose her.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll do everything I can.”

Roy meant it. That girl was the only decent girl in that school, the only one who hadn’t made fun on him because of his background. Plus, she was the Captain’s granddaughter, apparently. He would make sure he brought her back safe and sound. Riza deserved that much.

*          *          *

“Mustang, over here.” Roy looked up from studying the carpet of Riza Hawkeye’s apartment. Jean Havoc called him over to the bedroom and Roy’s stomach sank, mind automatically arriving at the worst connection between that room and the other signs of struggle they had seen throughout the apartment. “See this?” Havoc asked, pointing towards the door frame. There were two sets of bloody fingerprints on the white surround.

“Have these been processed?” Roy asked, swallowing roughly. In his mind all he could picture was the young girl he once knew being hurt and dragged, hands bloody, from her bedroom by a stranger with the intent to harm. It made him feel sick.

The officer Roy directed his question to nodded. “They’re being processed as we speak. One set is the victim’s and we’re running scans on the other.”

“Okay, good. Are these the only ones?”

The officer shook his head. “No. There’s another at the front door.” Roy nodded, asking the officer to show him them too.

“It doesn’t look great,” Havoc stated grimly, looking around the living area. There was a smear of blood on the carpet leading towards the door.

“I know,” Roy muttered. “What are you thinking?”

Havoc took another scan before launching into his proposed series of events. He strode back to her bedroom, looking at the rumpled duvet cover on the bed. “She was either asleep or in bed when her attacker made their presence known. There is no sign of forced entry into the apartment, either from the window or the door. No locks are broken so I’m certain Riza welcomed the person in, presumably someone who was friend or an acquaintance.”

Roy nodded. “I agree.”

“From there she was either chased through to this room, knocking this lamp over,” Havoc continued, gesturing towards the lamp lying on the floor. “Or the attack happened after they had sex.”

“Has anyone checked the sheets for evidence?” Roy asked, eyeing the bed. It felt odd to be doing such an act in Riza’s apartment. They had known each other as kids. It felt like an invasion of her privacy.

They both turned expectantly to the officer with the notepad who was furiously noting down Havoc’s monologue. “Yes, no evidence to support that in here or anywhere else in the apartment.”

“Okay, good.” That ruled out rape as well, for which Roy was thankful. The knot in his stomach relaxed slightly. It didn’t mean it hadn’t happened elsewhere, as much as he didn’t want to entertain the thought, however he was glad it hadn’t happened in her own home.

“So, I think this is where the struggle began,” Havoc stated. “Judging by the fingerprints on the door frame and the smear on the carpet, Riza was injured in some way, possibly to the point where she couldn’t walk properly, which was why she was dragged. There’s more blood out in the hall, but just drops, suggesting she was on her feet. Handprints on the wall too, which match her DNA and the unknown assailant’s.”

“Okay. Nice work, Havoc.” He nodded but didn’t smile. Roy understood why, he wouldn’t exactly want to be praised on how he had figured out a young woman had been abducted from her home either. They would both rather it didn’t happen all together.

“Time to interview the neighbours?” Roy suggested, taking one last look around the apartment, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his Central PD tactical jacket. It was an attempt to try and hide how they had been balled into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.

“Let’s do it.”

In this job, a detective sees everything. Most are harrowing and stay with someone for years, others are not so bad. However, seeing all these atrocities, one becomes complacent, never expecting that it will happen to someone they know. That’s what happened to Roy. Of course, these unfortunate events could happen to anyone, no one was invincible. He had always wondered if the day would some that someone he knew would be murdered or kidnapped, however he didn’t really expect it to happen. Even though Riza wasn’t exactly someone he knew, it was still a shock to discover that an old childhood friend had been kidnapped. He wouldn’t have wished that on her, she had been such a good person as a kid.

All he could do now was do his job to the best of his ability, like he always did, and hope that was enough to bring an old friend and the Captain’s granddaughter home.

[bardiicinspiration]

in which the events of the promised day go a little differently. have mercy on me if everything isn’t perfect; i’m just an angst goblin with a lot of love for royai.

fandom: fullmetal alchemist (brotherhood)

word count: 731

ship: roy mustang/riza hawkeye

warnings: blood, death

When Roy watches her knees hit the ground, the world around him shifts, and for a moment, the chilled, damp air of the underground gives way to the familiar arid heat of flame and the smell of burning flesh. The form at his feet is far too flawless to be human, even with the marring of his continuous assault. On the brink of death, she finds it within herself to flash a final, spiteful grin as she peers up through disheveled locks of impossibly thick raven hair.

“I look forward to the day when those eyes will be wide with agony. It’s coming…It’s coming.”

She crumbles to dust, and the memory fades, leaving a harrowing reality in its wake. The figure before him does not lie among ashes; she is prone on the stone floor that is slick with her blood. It soaks the grey jacket she wears and stains blonde locks crimson. For a moment, he is still, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He waits with bated breath for her to show any sign of life, but the part of his consciousness that hasn’t given in to denial accepts the truth that every fiber of his being refuses.

“Lieutenant?” His voice is a barely-there whisper that manages to eke its way past the lump forming in his throat. She says nothing.

Time starts moving again. It is now he that falls to his knees, landing in the glistening scarlet that pools around her body. Trembling hands grasp at her, pulling her up to settle as dead weight in his lap. Pristine white gloves are saturated with red. He can’t bring himself to care.

“Lieutenant!” Roy can’t remember the last time he felt the genuine urge to cry. He always assumed Ishval took that from him. “Dammit. Riza!”

The empty seconds that follow are spent awaiting a sarcastic answering quip that never comes. When he finally allows himself to gaze into vacant brown eyes, he feels the ground fall out from under him, and he is certain then that this is no nightmare. He feels foolish now for ever having prodded her about her reaction to his supposed demise at the hands of Lust, for now he understands. Losing her feels like severing part of his soul, and it’s anything but a clean break.

“No!” he grits through his teeth, jaw tensed.

The eyes on him don’t matter anymore. He knows everyone present is watching, and despite their protests, he takes her into his arms and carries her to the haphazardly drawn chalk outline, laying her gently in the center of it. For all his talk of rationality, he cannot force himself to find clarity through the frantic haze that holds him hostage. He is playing into their hands, but he is prepared to face whatever atrocities his actions may reap so long as he is able to do so with her by his side.

His hands are pressed to the circle before he has any more time to dwell on it. There is a flash of light accompanied by a chorus of voices; words of malicious encouragement and shouts of objection meld together and then dissipate into nothing as his focus shifts to the myriad of hands appearing from an infinite darkness to grab at him. Tendrils of shadow unravel him, tearing him apart until he crumbles away into nothing.

He is put back together, and he sees the truth. It is the last thing he sees.

He is spit back out by the same void that swallowed him, but the dark never recedes. His entire world is engulfed in black, and he realizes then what has transpired. This kind of transmutation requires a toll, and he’s paid it with his eyesight.

Blindly, he reaches out toward the center of the circle. “Riza?”

The responding sound he receives is ungodly. It turns his blood to ice and raises gooseflesh on his skin. He inches forward only to rear back when the form he lays a hand upon feels anything but human. Without his sight, he is left only with his imagination and the Elric brothers’ recount of their failure to revive their lost mother to deduce the consequences of his recklessness. He very nearly retches onto the stone floor.

Another pitiful groan from the abomination prompts him to shed tears he hadn’t thought possible.

“I’m so sorry.”

[tsaritsa]

The Possession of Isra Wright

this fic can also be found on ao3 or ff.net

NEXT CHAPTER

The rebuilding Ishvallan community is rocked by the uncovering of an exorcism gone horribly wrong, resulting in the death of a young woman at the hands of her own family. General Roy Mustang and his team suddenly find themselves embroiled at the centre of a military scandal that threatens to not only undo their three years of hard work, but also the military itself.

This story came about as I was researching into desert inhabitations, much like Ishval would’ve been before the civil war and what basically started as ponderings about the sorts of festivals they would celebrate and how Ishvalla was intertwined into their lives ended up as this.

The Possession of Isra Wright draws from my own understandings of a minority group that has suffered what is fundamentally both a literal and cultural genocide and then their forced integration into the ‘mainstream society’, rather than on the concept of possession itself. It is not my intention to try and glorify what are sometimes extremely sacred or harrowing experiences for many belief systems (or, in some cases, misunderstood mental illnesses), but rather use it as a catalyst to explore and understand other underlying issues in Amestris and Ishval. If you’ve seen the The Exorcism of Emily Rose, you’ll notice I’ve drawn a lot of my inspiration from there.

This is a story about dealing with the aftermath – but first I’ve got to introduce you to my version of Ishval. Have fun kiddies!

Warnings: language, sexual situations and violence.

CHAPTER ONE, Malkhā River Bank. Late summer, 1918.

There was hardly a breeze today – the heat was almost stifling, oppressive, but so so so dry. Drought season in Ishval was as harsh as ever.

However, Captain Riza Hawkeye noted, this was not without its benefits. Like today, for example. It was Lāeshembha today, the last day of the drought. Rain was imminent – the ahsa flowers had suddenly began to sprout, and the yālahe herons had been spotted by Sakhesā – the decimated, but altogether still holy mountain. A sandstorm was on the horizon too, Riza noted a little uneasily – a true harbinger of the desperately-needed rain, but it could be devastating to the only half-completed buildings in the Kanān district. Colonel Miles had assured her that the rest of the preparations would be completed before the proper celebrations were in full swing but she knew as soon at the goat’s horn sounded to begin the celebrations, preparations would be the last thing on anybody’s mind. She would need to talk to the General about that – too often now corners were being cut or mistakes were being made in light of new achievements and accomplishments.

However, possibly the best benefit to Lāeshembha was the fact that the General was also participating in it today – it was traditionally a manly thing to do, after all, but everyone had been invited to participate if they wanted to. It was not like he had any choice in the matter, however – everybody (jokingly) loved to point out how they could do his job much better than he could, and Lāeshembha was one of the few times the man could prove himself on the Ishvallan’s terms.

It also helped that the General was a practical man – though there were a few young men milling around the edge of the Malkhā river-turned-lake with loose shirts on, but most, including the General had opted to simply wear loose cotton pants, sans shirt. This year would most likely be their biggest yet – there were at least a thousand people, mostly men, milling around the edges of the artificial lake, each holding their own wooden net. The excitement in the air was palpable – with each successive year that Lāeshembha was held, the competition increased to catch the fish – and with it, the honour that one earned because of it.

Yes, Riza was more than comfortable perched up on the bank of the Malkhā, watching the almost-chaos below her, well-shaded from the brutal heat of the afternoon sun by the enormous ironwood’s that dotted the length of the restored river-turned-temporary-lake.

“Y’know, I would say that you’re going red because of the heat, but we’d both know I’d be lying, right?” Rebecca Catalina snarked as she sat down next to Riza on the sparse ground, handing her a bottle of water. “You have a terrible poker face when it comes to your beloved commanding officer.”

Riza accepted the bottle, and sighed deeply. “My poker face is fine, thank you very much,” she shot back. “At least I’m trying to be subtle about it-”

Rebecca elbowed her in the side. “Oi! I am totally subtle, Miss I’m-Wet-For-Sparkypants-”

“You are the worst-”

“I bet you two are gonna be all sneaky later too, finding some shady corner where you shove your hand down his-”

Riza tackled the woman down onto the ground, desperately trying to cover her mouth to no avail. Rebecca simply laughed, fighting off the attack with the experience of someone who had done this many times before.

“-and then all we’ll hear is oh Riza, yes, do it aga-”

“SHUT UP REBECCA!” Riza shrieked, scandalised, trying to stifle her own laughter as they rolled around on the bank. “I swear on the ground I stand on that I will kill you if you don’t shut-”

Rebecca threw her head back onto the ground, laughing far too much to fight back anymore. “You two are adorable,” she managed between gasps, tears sliding down her face. “And Havoc said that this trip would be boring.”

Riza frowned, flicking her harshly on the shoulder. “It’s not funny,” she hissed, glancing around to see who had noticed the commotion – barely anybody. Everyone seemed too distracted to notice the two of them, high up on the bank. The crowd at the edges of the Malkhā was the main focus – a sea of white hair dotted with blondes, reds, browns and blacks.

Rebecca sighed as she sat up, wiping her tears away. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not funny – it’s fucking hilarious how you two inch around each other like something out of a Walter and Black book.”

“Remind me why I invited you again?”

Rebecca grinned wolfishly, pulling her dark curls into a low bun. “Because there are tons of half-naked men here and you need to be distracted or you’ll make terrible decisions tonight? Not that it’ll stop you though. So just the half-naked men, really.”

Riza rolled her eyes, taking a drink of water from the bottle that Rebecca had given her. “You are incorrigible,” she muttered, scanning the horizon with unease once more. “Are you taking the train back today or will you stay the night?”

Rebecca hummed. “I don’t know. What’s the weather looking like?”

“Not good. Clean up tomorrow is going to be a bitch. Even if you left tonight I’m not sure you’d outrun it.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Rebecca said, standing up and stretching her arms out wide. “You’re going to need all the help you can get, and technically I’m off work until next week anyway.” She winked at Riza. “Besides, there’s plenty of strapping young men that will be desperate for fresh meat tonight – if you don’t get lucky, at least you can live vicariously through me.”

Riza grinned, crossing her legs and shifting the janhe on her shoulders. Though the military uniforms were only required during work hours (and nobody was stupid enough to wear them a second longer) and even though the ones for the Ishvallan summer were made of a lighter wool blend, they were still suffocating at the best of times. Casual Ishvallan wear had become the norm for almost all the long-time serving military branch – Riza included. Heatstroke was the most common ailment in Aledia – alongside dehydration. At this point in the summer, water wasn’t enough to keep a person healthy; they also had to rely on drinks with added electrolytes and minerals. The traditional Ishvallan diet didn’t do a bad job itself – but many of the soldiers found the heat of the food too much. Contests over how much chāna they could eat without feeling ill were common – and a practice that caused both her and Roy a lot of consternation.

At least it was a friendly competition, Riza thought as she adjusted her legs, wincing a little at the sudden pins and needles spreading through her calves. By her estimates, today’s high would be at least thirty-four degrees – not the worst she had endured, but undoubtedly some people would feel the effects of the blazing sun tomorrow. Taking a quick swig of water, Riza looked out to the still waters of the Malkhā. The incoming rains would carve a new path for the river, and provide relief to the region that was starting to show signs of strain. The population of Aledia was growing every month, and with them, straining what few resources they had. At least the rain would lower the temperature for a while as well. Too many people were growing irritable with the relentless heat – Riza was a little ashamed to count herself amongst them.

Growing up in the East had taught her to deal with heat, of course, but she had grown up with humid, muggy heat. Ishvallan summers were as dry as a bone, sunburn was a constant stress and worry (and naturally, Riza was not a person to develop a tan of any sort – freckles, there were plenty, but her gaining a tan was like Edward gaining a foot in height). Roy, the lucky bastard, took to summer like a fish did to water. Of course he was a fine specimen to ogle anytime of the year (not that she’d tell Rebecca any more than the tidbits she’d let slip already – that woman was learning far too much, far too quickly from Madame Christmas) but the summer was a particularly wonderful time to do so – and there were opportunities upon opportunities to do so.

It was during this reflection on how to improve her ‘Rebecca filter’ that she caught his eyes down on the bank. Rebecca would pin it down to them being ‘star-crossed lovers’, but in reality there was often very little times where one would not be checking on the other – even more so after the events of the Promised Day. More than once that day they had been so close to losing one another – and as the saying went, hindsight truly was twenty-twenty. Riza remembered only too clearly the abject terror she felt as the nurses had pulled her away from Roy to do proper surgery on her wounds. She still had nightmares about that moment.

She knew Roy did too.

However, restoring Ishval took up more than enough head space between the two of them. Having control over an entire district of the country was wonderful, Riza was humble enough to admit that, but it came with its own set of dangers. How they ran Ishval could only be done because Führer Grumman had such trust in the General’s vision – and with it, their own culture had developed on how rules and policies were enforced.

There were many open secrets in Ishval. Military regulations fell to the side in favour of other, more unorthodox methods of dealing with rule-breakers and breaches of confidence. The Ishval unit was almost a separate faction to the Amestrian – much like how Briggs was to their icy commander. Riza suspected this was a deliberate choice – a group bound together by mutual experiences and a common goal were much easier to inspire loyalty than soldiers who were shifted around to suit numbers more than actually do any legitimate work.

It was this type of loyalty and hand-selection of troops that enabled so many…indiscretions of a personal nature to float under the radar – only when the person’s involved became ridiculously overt would they be separated and questioned duly – and never before.

The rumour mill never bothered with her and Roy. There was no need to. Rebecca had snidely called her the ‘Queen Bee’ of Ishval more than once – and it was true, to an extent. Her relationship with him was not at all professional on far too many levels to count – but they were professional when it came to their jobs. Their district wouldn’t allow it otherwise. One misstep, one conflict not attended to would tear down all they had worked hard to gain – and that was the constant fear plaguing the back of their minds.

However, on days like these, decorum from the Ishval unit went out the window – and so did the rules. This was why Riza was sitting on the top of a river-cum-lake bank, wearing a sundress and a patterned janhe and unabashedly staring at her superior officer’s abs – who, as it happened, was staring back at her, a smile blooming on his face and eyes promising that he’d catch at least one fish: or die of mortification otherwise.

“Are you finished having weird eye sex yet?” Rebecca asked, plopping herself back down, stifling a snigger. Riza glanced at her. “Have you finished being a bitch that won’t get any mekhlo at this rate?” she shot back.

Rebecca held up her hands in apology. “Yes, okay, calm down already. I think the High Cleric dude is gonna blow the magic goat horn.”

Riza threw Rebecca a disproving look, before sitting up a little straighter. The people milling by the waterside had stopped talking to one another – all were looking to the water, muscles tense, wooden nets held high. High Cleric Basir had walked out onto a rock, carrying the ceremonial goat horn that had been found buried in the rubble remains of an Ahmanhe, the traditional places of worship for Ishvalla. All that could be heard were the lapping of the water on the stones and a lone yālahe circling above, occasionally calling out in a mournful cry at being ousted from its water source temporarily.

Basir took a deep breath and then placed the horn against his mouth, and a low, solemn tone came out – and all hell broke loose on the edges of the water. A roar rose from the crowd gathered as they all began running into the water as fast as they could manage – in a matter of seconds the lake was flooded with a frantic frenzy of limbs and voices and nets and splashing water – Riza immediately lost track of where the General was in the chaos. It was a few minutes of this before the first men began to emerge victorious from the crowd in the lake, hands and mouths full of fish, some still wriggling around. It didn’t take long for Roy to emerge out of the crowd either holding up his fish-grasping hands in success.

“ARE YOU PROUD OF ME NOW CAPTAIN?” He hollered up to her, looking far too pleased with himself. “TURNS OUT I CAN FEND FOR MYSELF WHEN THE NEED ARISES!” The crowd around him laughed, looking up to where she and Rebecca were sitting, Rebecca cackling madly. “Hell of a catch, wouldn’t you say?” she said between laughs. Riza snorted, trying to ignore the curling warmth low in her gut.

“That is an awful pun, Rebecca,” she replied, a smile growing on her face as Roy made his way up the bank where they were sitting. “Go find Havoc and see if he’ll spare you a fish.”

Rebecca harrumphed at that, before standing up slowly. “General!” she called out. “Your treasured Captain is telling me you won’t have any fish for me. How could you break my heart in such a cruel way?”

“My reputation obviously precedes me,” he called back, making his way through the crowds that were beginning to emerge as more and more people came out of the lake – some successful, many not.

“Cad!” she retorted, pouting and putting her hands on her hips. “Did Havoc fare any better?”

“I think he got four, if the crowd surrounding him is any indication,” he replied, glancing back at the growing horde surrounding the young man down at the banks of the Malkhā. “You better run quickly if you want some fish from him.”

A look of determination stole across Rebecca’s face. “I’ll see you two at the party!” she yelled back, quickly jogging down to the large gathering by the now empty lake.

Roy turned back to where Riza was sitting. “Where do I put my hard-earned labours?” he asked, sitting down on the towel next to her, sending water droplets flying as he shook his head vigorously.

“I’ve got an ice box here – did you kill them already?” Riza asked, dragging the wooden box from where she had been keeping it in the shade.

“Nah, not yet. You got a knife?”

She passed him one as well as chopping board – some people liked to bash the heads against the rocks by the river’s edge but that was far too cruel in her opinion. Worse were the ones already skewering them, ready for the waiting campfires at the town square. Roy made quick work of gutting and filleting the fish.

“Where’re the dogs? I was going to give them the guts.”

“It’s too hot for them out here – you know that as well as I do – and Eliza was giving me that look that you give me when you’re going to stir shit up. She takes after you a worrying amount.”

“So she should,” he replied primly, placing the filleted fish into the ice box and making a small alcove in the corner of the ice for the guts to keep. “She’s a wonderful dog who perfectly emulates what it means to be a Mustang-”

“Meaning she sleeps all over the furniture and constantly eats food she knows isn’t for her?” Riza interrupted, taking the ice box from him and began to wrap it back up in cloth. “You indulge her.”

“She is a wonderful and loyal friend and I will not let you insult her-”

“She is a dog, Roy, I’m sure she won’t kill her to have a bit more training than ‘piss here please, if you will’-”

“General.”

Their bickering stopped as Samir stood before them, in his customary robes and ceremonial sash. The man was still as intimidating as ever, even with the faded scar, Riza thought, before standing alongside Roy to greet the man properly.

“Samir! I didn’t see you in the group – you didn’t participate this year?” Roy asked, offering his hand. They shook hands, briefly, before Samir replied.

“Unfortunately not. I was given the task of watching over the mekhlo barrels this year – not an entirely terrible job to be given during Lāeshembha. I suppose you were successful once more?” He asked, humour in his tone.

“Naturally,” Roy replied, a proud smirk growing on his face. “Not as good as Havoc or Karir – but I just need to catch at least one fish so you all don’t lose hope in me.”

Samir snorted. “Best not let others know you were being easy on them. They may wish to challenge you properly next year.” He turned to Riza. “Colonel Miles instructed me to tell you that the preparations in the Kanān district have been done. The storm tonight will not ruin the progress we have made this week.”

Riza smiled warmly. “Thank you, Samir. Will you and Colonel Miles be joining us at the Ahmanhe tonight for the dinner?”

Samir nodded. “As soon as we shift the mekhlo to the cellars we will join you. Hopefully the young ones will give up this year in their quest to get drunk.”

She laughed, as did Roy. “Unlikely,” he replied, “but there’s hope yet. We better go now, anyway,” he continued, nodding to Samir. “There are two dogs at home that are going to be very disappointed if we don’t bring them the fruits of my labour.”

Samir laughed. “They’re more demanding than most of the ammonla around here.”

“You’re probably right there,” Roy replied. “But I imagine that the ishmonla will be acting far worse tonight.”

Samir nodded sagely. “I hope not to count you two amongst them,” he said. “I will let you go now. Ishvalla dhāmo.”

“Ishvalla dhāmo,” they replied in unison, watching as the hordes of people crowded around him, all jabbering away in various fluencies and cadences of Ishvallan.

Lāeshembha – fishing festival that occurs at the end of the drought season

Ahsa – a vine-like plant that grows in the cracks of buildings and the ground. The white flowers begin to blossom when the humidity reaches a certain level in the summer.

Yālahe – species of heron that migrate to the south to breed.

Sakhesā – a small mountain that is sacred to Ishvallan’s. It is said to be the place that Ishvalla once stood.

Kanān – a prophet of Ishvalla, born approx. 1240.

Malkhā – the main river that runs from the mountain ranges that separate modern-day Ishval from Amestris.

Janhe – a traditional shawl for Ishvallan women, which covers the shoulders and upper arms. Comes in a variety of fabrics and patterns, typically made of cotton.

Mekhlo – a type of fermented alcohol, made with the bark of the nekhlo tree, spices and the aloe vera plant. Prepared in the height of summer, it is both delicious before and after fermentation.

Aledia – name of the village being rebuilt in the Ishvallan district. Comes from the Ishvallan word aledhā, meaning moon.

Chāna – traditional Ishvallan stew, made with goat and root vegetables. Typically a spicy dish.

Ahmanhe – place of worship for Ishvalla.

Ammonla – informal way to talk about a child or children.

Ishmonla – informal way to talk about an adult or adults.

Ishvalla dhāmo – (trans. Ishvalla guides [you]) a formal way to say goodbye.

[thetruthofyourdespair-blog]

Judgement Day: Royai Drabble

What brought them to this? Was it the fact that Roy had finally (and tragically) ventured too far into Hell, ravaged by his flame alchemy? Or was it the fact that Riza had followed him into Hell's depths and had to redeem them both from the clutches of the secrets she bestowed to him all those years ago? For Riza, all that lay between Roy's redemption was a darkened room and a pistol. He was at his desk, unaware of what was about to unfold. He thought she was just here for a discussion on how a set of documents were to be signed and that were due for tomorrow. How much more wrong could he have been. "Lieutenant," Roy addressed, his puzzlement concealed by shadows. "What's wrong?" Riza wanted to answer with one simple word: everything. She was stood several feet from the door to the office, her delicately chiselled features defined by the streaming moonlight. Roy was surprised to find her here so late, especially after she was reassured that the paperwork would be complete. Of course, that wasn't why she was here. "Please stand, Colonel," she instructed, her words sharp as a blade. His brows furrowed. "Whatever for? I don't-" "Please stand, Colonel," she repeated with a lot more force. Roy knew better than to argue with her when she had that tone of voice. Obviously something was on her mind that had to be confronted. Putting his ink pen down, he rose from his seat, smoothing back his hair anxiously. From a simple eye signal, Roy knew that Riza wanted him to step up to her. He obeyed and was towering over her within seconds. After a few silent seconds, Riza pulled the gun from the holster on her belt, putting its barrel parallel to his chest. Roy flinched. What was she doing? Had she gone mad? "What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant?" He demanded calmly. He clenched his fists, ignoring the bad vibes he was receiving. Rapidly, Roy's breathing turned erratic. His heart pounded against his rib cage and the feeling reverberated through the rest of his body. Riza continued to hold the gun to his chest, her finger millimetres away from the trigger. She watched the rise and fall of Roy's upper body, the material of his uniform jacket straining slightly with each breath. "You told me all those years ago when I first became your adjutant that I could shoot you if you strayed from the wrong path," she reminded him. "You've gone too far; you've become blood-thirsty, and every sinner must face their judgement." "And is this Judgement Day for me?" He questioned. "Only if you falter. Endure my wrath first and foremost; I need to make sure you're still sane." "Of course I'm still sane," Roy answered firmly. He saw the sceptical glint in Riza's eye and drew a breath. He had never seen pure rage like this before. In fact, it made him ice-cold with fear. "But what about you?" He added after a beat. "What's your judgement?" "Don't make this about me," she snapped, digging the gun into his chest ever so slightly, telling Roy that she was being deadly serious. "This was never about me! It's about you and your actions!" "Then when will it ever be about you, Riza?!" She hesitated a moment, taken aback by his sudden burst of anger. She bit her lip frustratedly, causing it to bleed, the red metallic liquid seeping on to her tongue. Steady, she proceeded to finally place her finger on the trigger, an icy shiver crawling up her finger to her hand and arm. "It will be about me when the papers and radio broadcasters find out that I shot you," Riza replied darkly, looking Roy dead in the eye. "When they find out that I killed my commanding officer and the man whose love kept me levelheaded." He stared back at her, fright washing over his face and turning his skin white. "You've gone rogue," she continued, feeling a strong dislike to the aura she was receiving form him. "Your protection is as fragile as a china vase. Your love is tasteless and toxic. Your mind is clouded by hatred and disease, which has guided you blindly down the wrong road. There's no turning back. It ends here." "Is there really an end to a story?" Roy questioned, his eyes frowning with a glazed sadness. "I may be fragile. I may be toxic. But I'm not a villain, and I won't be dying in this story." "You sound so sure," murmured Riza, tensing her hand around the gun. "But how do you feel about rewriting your story, so there's a cliché conclusion with a fallen villain?" "Not so good," he admitted coolly. "But if you so wish to change it, then I'd be happy if you were the one to kill me. I wouldn't go any other way." "Is this a confession, then?" "No. I'll confess my sins to God and he'll send me to the devil, to Hell, where I'll be burned in its and my own flames for eternity. That is the price I'll pay. That is the fate I have accepted." Riza twitched. Her eyes not quite blinking because if they did, they'd shed a tear of pity and this certainly wasn't the time for that. She understood that Roy knew of his consequences, but actually hearing those words from his own curse-ridden mouth She watched Roy's own eyes twitch, their blackness giving way to emotions. He let a tear roll down his cheek and a heavy sigh out in the meantime. "It doesn't have to be this way," he said hoarsely. "You faltered," Riza answered bluntly. "You're too soft, Roy. Is that what power has done to you? Has it taken away the strength you once possessed and put it to use to your dark desires instead?" "Soft," he spat, the word echoing back to her. "How dare you say such a thing? How dare you-" He stopped abruptly when the click of the gun shattered the tense air. Riza had taken its safety off, knowing that she would indeed have to use her weapon. "See?" She said. "When the truth is told, you can't handle it. You used to take it as criticism; now you take it as a threat. You're definitely as insane as I initially thought, Roy." He swallowed hard, then wiping away the damp trail that flowed down his cheek with the back of his hand. His rage vanished as Riza spoke, but a sudden terror of his imminent decease took over him like a vile spirit. Maybe that's what he was. A monster. A demon. The emissary of the devil. Typically, however, Roy couldn't help but admire Riza's fatal beauty that was evident under the moonlight. Her soft skin, her striking amber eyes, her silky golden hair. The woman who he loved and admired and feared all at the same time was stood before him as if she was an agent of the truth. He knew she would be the death of him, but not like this. "Riza," he began quietly, wanting to hold her hand, to caress her cheek, to kiss her fiercely. "I'd change for you. You know I would." "It's too late for that," she snapped. "If you can't make amends for the people of Amestris and for the soldiers in its army- the people you said you'd lead one day- then how would you change for me?" Roy gazed into her eyes, noticing an almost invisible glint of self-loathing for what she was doing. He knew that Riza wasn't going to back down, so this was indeed it. "I agree. I've let them down," he muttered, turning his gaze to her hands that the gun firmly to his chest. "And, worst of all, I've let you down. The one person who I cared for the most; the one person who cared for me the most. She's gone like ashes in the wind. Just like I will be in the pages of history." "Are those your last words?" She asked. "Yes. There's nothing else to it. I've done what I could. I've led a life of many regrets, and this is the end of the road for me." There was beat. Their gazes met. "I don't hate you for doing this," Roy added. "I hate myself for not listening to you sooner. In fact, you have the right to shoot me because I gave you that right. Your judgement, Riza, is better than that of both God and the devil's... Thank you." His voice cracked within his final two words. His head lowered, his hair falling over his forehead and eyes. At that moment, Riza felt hollow. It was acutely harrowing, yet she couldn't turn back. This was the end of the line. This was where the madness ended. The death of the embodiment of flame alchemy. The death of a respected soldier. The death of a hero. She closed her eyes, stifling a sob. And, at last, pulled the trigger...

[by-nina]

The Day of the Dead

Royai Halloween 2018 | Day 4 – Hallowed Rating: T (mentions of war, genocide) Genre: Drama/Comfort Word Count: 670 @royaihalloween

A/N: I’M LATE AAAAAAAAAAAA.

“I always knew I would come back, but I didn’t really think about it much until recently. My nightmares about the war haven’t stopped, not even six years after.”

He doesn’t expect to see her here, of all places.

           His long trip to Ishval began at dawn, when the first train to the East had just pulled out of the station at Central. Roy hadn’t slept the night before. He had always known that returning to Ishval after the war would be a harrowing experience, but nothing could have prepared him for the heaviness in his chest, or the memory of prickly desert heat on his skin—all as if the war had only been yesterday.

          Plans to rebuild Ishval began to be made not long after General Grumman became Führer. Rumors of Roy’s eventual assumption of the top post have been hounding him more furiously than ever since the Promised Day; his subsequent promotion to Brigadier General only fanned the flames further. Still, he defied expectations by choosing to visit Ishval alone, on a personal trip, rather than on a state-sanctioned visit that surely would have gotten the attention of the press. He doubts that even his team knows his intentions today.

          As he approaches ground zero, he notices a few glaring changes from what he has known of the place for years, based on official reports. The military checkpoints and detachments that had been set up to restrict access to ground zero are nowhere to be found. Groups of several small tents are scattered out in the distance. Ishvalan camps, he thinks—not of those who have organized themselves for their formal return to the region, but likely those who have come for a solemn observance of the Ishvalan Day of the Dead.

          Blinking against the sand and under a harsh sun, he thinks he might only be imagining Riza atop the hill that overlooks Ishval at its outskirts. As he approaches her, she turns to him and smiles, and it’s how he knows that she truly is there.

          “Captain Hawkeye.”

          “It takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?” Her smile is replaced with a forlorn expression as she looks back at what used to be a grand plaza, now left with only lone standing walls and mounds of debris. Roy realizes that she isn’t just referring to her new rank. “I always knew I would come back, but I didn’t really think about it much until recently. My nightmares about the war haven’t stopped, not even six years after.”

          “Neither have mine,” he admits quietly. A pause. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?”

          Riza nods, and Roy takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come. I did think of you, but I also felt that it should be up to you when you would come here again. I didn’t want to decide that for you.”

          “It’s fine, sir. I appreciate it.”

          He blinks, unsure of what he sees when he looks at her once more. But he cannot be mistaken about the barrette clip missing from the back of her head, and with it the locks it has long kept in place.

          “Captain, your hair…”

          She smiles again, touching the ends of her hair just above her nape. “It didn’t feel right to come back here without doing it. Even though it’s been a long time, I can’t run away from who I was back then.”

          For a moment, Riza does look exactly as she did during the war. Roy sees the weary lines beneath her eyes, the glazed look one gets when one has heavily stained their hands with blood. He sees Cadet Hawkeye, introducing herself to him on the battlefield, losing herself the longer the war went on, until there was nothing left in her but guilt. He sees himself, too, and all the hell he has put himself through since the day he marched into Ishval.

          Roy takes her hand. Quietly, he prays to the souls of all those he had killed during the war. Maybe on this hallowed ground, on this hallowed day, they will listen to the first time that he asks forgiveness for them both.