Author's Note: I started writing this about 5 years ago as a happy piece, but somewhere along the line it got a little darker. Whoops. Found it today and was compelled to finish it. I've not written or read much fanfiction in quite a while so I apologize for any OOCness. Also the timeline is all over the place, mostly on purpose. Sorry if it's confusing, but I tried to make it make sense. Enjoy!
There was a flash of red-orange light and then a number of armored men exploded in an all too familiar cloud of smoke tinged with flames.
"Welcome to the party General!" Havoc called.
I looked up to see a man walking towards us, barking orders that sent the men skittering off with shouts of 'yes sir.' Where to have the armies, what was most important to protect, and how to get to the flying machine. Soon there was only me left, standing at attention, right hand held in a salute above my eye. He looked towards me and I dropped my hand.
"We've been waiting for you sir."
"Elizabeth," I looked up at the sound of my father's voice, "This is my new apprentice, Roy Mustang."
"Nice to meet you Mr. Mustang." I greeted, momentarily abandoning my current chore and offering him my hand.
"It's Roy." He said, taking my hand in a firm shake. My father left without a word during this greeting. He was like that, a man of few words, but what he did say was meaningful, or at least meaningful to him.
"I'm Riza." I stated, turning away from him and heading back towards my task, putting a new pillowcase on my pillow, which was always harder than I thought it would be.
"I thought your father said it was Elizabeth." Roy mused.
"I prefer Riza." I said. "Your room is across the hall. I made the bed already, but I won't do it again."
"Why'd you make it this time then?" Roy asked.
"I had some free time." I replied. "And I knew you were coming."
"Were you waiting for me?" Roy questioned, tilting his head to one side like a puppy. I suppressed a smile, and feeling my cheeks flush, turned around quickly. A smirk crawled across Roy's face and he let out a chuckle.
Another armored man went up in flames and the general left my side. I heard him talking to Major Armstrong. The armored attackers were coming slower now, so I turned around to see where Roy had gone. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw him lifting off in a hot air balloon.
"Stop! What are you doing?" I cried, he couldn't go alone, not with one eye and rusty alchemy, not in this situation, not ever. It wasn't safe. Nothing was safe enough when it came to him. Armstrong caught me, holding me back.
"Easy now." He commanded.
"Sorry Lieutenant, only room for one." The general called as he lifted higher and higher into the air.
"You liar! Come back!" I don't know what I was thinking, it was obvious that nobody else would fit in the hot air balloon, but I just couldn't bear the thought of losing sight of him again, not after he was gone for so long, not when every moment spent with him could be the last. I tried not to let that thought linger too long, but the thoughts you like the least always stay the longest.
"Where are you going?" Roy asked, my father was out for the day, so Roy was spending the day lounging. My father had to work twice a week to make ends meet. Though he hated it he had to eat as much as I did, and he needed me to get an education, so he worked.
"Out." I responded curtly, "It's better than sitting around here all day."
"Can I come?" Roy asked, already on his feet.
"Suit yourself." I shrugged and continued towards the door.
"So what is there to do around here?" Roy asked, matching his pace to mine.
"Not much. But anything is better than being stuck at the house all day." I said, letting a hint of bitterness tinge my voice as I spoke about what most would call my home. Roy had been living with us for quite a while now, six years three months and seven days to be exact, not that I was keeping track, but he was still oblivious to what happened inside the house.
"You don't like it at home?" He asked.
"If only you knew." I muttered, "If only you knew."
"Then tell me." Roy said, "Your house is nice enough."
"Maybe you'll understand someday." I told him.
"Tell me now, I'm leaving soon." Roy pressed.
"Leaving?" I asked, stopping in surprise and locking my red-brown eyes to his dark blue-black ones.
"Yes. I'm going to join the military. There's an uprising in Ishbal and they need soldiers. I was hoping to learn the secrets of flame alchemy before I left, but if I can't I'll just go anyway." Roy explained.
"Does my father know what you're planning?" I asked, hardening my eyes. I knew, of course, that my father knew, but Roy wouldn't know how I knew, so I let him go blindly on, not knowing the pain that I had endured thanks to his plans.
"Yes. I told him a few days ago." He replied.
"You're out of luck then, he'll never give his secrets up to a dog of the military."
"So, you're dad is a legendary alchemist, why don't you learn alchemy from him?" Roy asked, he had been here a matter of days and I could tell the question had bothered him since his arrival.
"Alchemy is child's play. I'm too old for it." I replied haughtily, hoping he would let the subject be.
"Right." He drawled, "What's the real reason? Alchemy is harder than it looks, it takes years of practice. Hardly child's play."
"Women are not fit to learn alchemy; they have other jobs to do." My father interrupted, stepping into the doorway. "My daughter knows this; I'm surprised that you don't." My father beckoned to Roy to follow before he turned and went back down the hall to his study.
Roy looked stunned, glancing from me to the doorway and back before hurrying off after my father. Whatever he did, he better not get me in trouble. I growled, a storm building in my chest as I went to my room, twisting the key in the lock of the top drawer of my desk and pulling it open I grabbed my slingshot before slamming the drawer shut once more, making sure to twist the key back and slip it into my pocket. I hurried from the house and into the trees that bordered the property, stopping when I reached a familiar clearing. I picked up a nearby rock and loaded it into my slingshot, sending it flying at a tree, letting a small smile of satisfaction slide across my face as it hit the tree with a resounding thunk.
"I am not too weak. Not that I'd want to learn alchemy anyway, who would want to learn something that takes up that much time?" I spoke to nobody in particular. The tree that so often took the blows of my emotion stared back at me, mocking me with its chipped and bruised bark. "I'm not!" I yelled at it, dropping my slingshot and throwing stones at it with every word. "I. Am. Not. Like. Him!" I turned my back to the tree, crossing my arms over my chest with a child-like humph. I saw him then, Roy's dark eyes wide as he peered around the edge of a tree where I had entered the small clearing.
"What do you want?" I huffed.
"Not like who?" He asked, coming out from behind the tree cautiously.
"Him." I growled, flicking my head in the general direction of the house. I was not in the mood to give answers easily, especially as Roy had caused this mood, unintentionally or not, I wasn't about to let it go.
Roy squinted in the direction I had indicated, obviously not understanding what I meant.
"My father. I am not, and never will be, anything like my father." I spat the words venomously so that Roy would understand, he was so dense. What potential could my father possibly see in him?
Roy nodded as if he understood, though his eyes betrayed how confused he really was. I scoffed in disgust and rolled my eyes, picking up my slingshot and striding deeper into the forest.
The warm summer air was still and heavy as we sat cross-legged on the back porch.
"Go fish." Roy declared after checking over each card just to make sure he really didn't have the eight I had requested. At thirteen, I suppose that maybe I should play more mature card games, but I didn't care much tonight. It was too hot to care. I knew it was late because the sun had finally given up for the night, slipping slowly behind the trees as the sky turned blood red, burned from the day's heat.
Something fluttery and big flew at my face; I yelped and fell backwards in an attempt to escape my attacker, sending my handful of cards flying.
"It's only a moth." He reassured me, his voice bubbly with restrained laughter.
"A giant moth!" I retorted, sitting back up. I wiped my hand over my face just to make sure that the moth was really gone.
"It wasn't going to hurt you." Roy stated, collecting the scattered cards into an organized pile.
"You never know, moths have been known to bite." I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
"Yea, because a proboscis has so many teeth." He smirked, letting out a low chuckle as I huffed at him, unable to counter with anything to make moths scary creatures to anyone but me.
"Tomorrow I'll show you something to scare off all those big bad moths." Roy promised, "And anything else that wants to bite you."
I opened my mouth to argue but he cut me off.
"Much more effective than your little slingshot."
"Thanks for earlier." Came the voice of a black haired man wearing glasses as he walked towards me. I look at him, trying to remember what I had done to deserve his thanks. "It was you who fired that shot, right?"
"Yes sir." Now I remember, he was one of the men I saved earlier when the Ishbalan snuck up behind them. The other man was a familiar face, dark hair, dark eyes that now told stories of the turmoil and pain of war rather than the sparkling care-free eyes I had known before. Last time I saw him I was making him promise to live in order to achieve his goal, promising I'd help him in any way I could despite his protests. What he didn't know then was that his protests were futile; my heart was set on helping him for reasons unclear to me at the time, though now I suppose I was clinging to anything I could, anyone close enough to provide some comfort.
I stood, letting the hood of my overcoat slide away from my head and addressed the familiar face.
"It's nice to see you again Mr. Mustang. Or perhaps I should address you as Major Mustang now." His eyes grew wide in recognition, his mouth pulling itself into a grimace. "Do you remember me?"
"How could I forget?" His voice was gravelly with some emotion between regret and despair. I knew that he wasn't happy to see me here, from the moment I signed up as a soldier I knew that someday I would meet him again, and he wouldn't be happy with my decision, but it was my decision and he would have to accept it.
He was standing behind me as I knelt over the grave I had built for an Ishbalan child, talking about the war and the wrongs we had done, we had been ordered to do, as soldiers. It's all too much, the people I've killed, this bloodstained ground beneath me and the crimson stains that I know cover my hands and face. To you it may look like dust and sand but I know what it really is. I know what has happened here, seen it with my own eyes. Eyes the same color as the bloodied earth.
"I have a favor to ask you Mr. Mustang." I don't look at him for fear that I will lose my resolve if I do. I want to be free, I can't just sit by and let this happen, even this small action speaks volumes. Volumes to me, to him, and to every aspiring flame alchemist out there. I will not be responsible for any more bloodshed unless it is absolutely necessary. "My back, I want you to burn it beyond recognition."
"What?! I could never-" Comes his spluttered reply, without looking I can tell that he's thinking furiously of reasons not to do this, not to hurt me, not to scar me. But I am already scarred. What's a little more pain if it lightens my mind?
"You have to." I cut his protest short, my voice heavy with feeling. He has to. "If I can't repent, the least I can do is prevent the creation of another flame alchemist. I want that secret that's written on my back to become illegible." I'm shaking now, gritting my teeth against my yearning. "To remove the burden of my father's legacy and allow me, Riza Hawkeye, to be independent." I turn to face him, my features set in seriousness. "It has to be done. I'm begging you." His eyes are wide as he reaches for his gloves, but his voice is low and serious.
"Since the war began, I've learned to control the intensity of these flames." He pulls on his gloves slowly, his eyes never meeting mine as they return to their normal size. "Everything from incinerating a body to inflicting non-fatal burns on a miniscule area."
I turn my back to him, sliding off my overcoat and navy blue uniform top.
"How ironic," He muses as I slide my black shirt over my head, exposing my tattooed back to him. "This war has made me much too accustomed to burning people."
I hear his fingers slide together and pain sears my flesh. I bite my lip against the cry that bubbles up from my chest, this is what I wanted, and although it hurts I cannot allow myself to cry out in pain, that would torture him more than he's already been tortured by the war and by my request.
I bite into the pillow to stifle the sounds of my pain as the bandages are pulled from my back, exposing the burn wound that covers my shoulder blade and slices the tattooed ties to my past, rendering it useless. I can't see it, but I can tell from the smell that it's horribly infected.
"I got something to help get rid of that infection." Roy says. "It might sting some."
I nod slightly to let him know that I heard. He takes a deep breath and begins to wash out the wound. I can tell when he starts with the disinfectant. To say that it stings is an understatement. It bites at my sensitive exposed nerves and a small mangled cry of pain escapes into the room despite my efforts to silence it.
"I'm sorry." He murmurs, "It'll stop stinging soon."
I feel him bandage it with gentle fingers that feel cool in contrast to the fiery sting that has numbed the rest of my back.
His cool fingers traced the lines on my back gingerly, as if he were afraid that he might hurt me.
"It doesn't hurt anymore," I said, to reassure him.
"I'm sorry," He whispered.
That's all he had said for the past hour, after his initial outrage. If my father wasn't already dead I'm sure Roy would have hurt him. His anger should have scared me, how dark and hot his angry eyes got, fiery, almost like how my father's eyes got when he was angry. Despite the resemblance, I knew Roy would never hurt me. His eyes were made to sparkle in the sun, not burn angrily in the dark.
"Will you follow me?" He asked, his eyes dark, hard, but still his.
"If that is your wish, then even into hell," I respond. My voice betrays my determination.
"Good," He nods, "I need someone to protect my back."
He closes his eyes for longer than is necessary for a blink, but not before I see the hint of sadness in them. The hint of fear. The hint of the look he gave me just a few years ago that said don't you dare follow me.
His eyes said don't follow me. His words said he would be back. But the shape of his smirk said that he knew I wasn't listening.
He had come back older and stronger to ask my father for the secrets of fire alchemy one last time. He was not the only one who had grown over the years. I had grown too, though not as much.
I was still my father's daughter until that night. My father's passing somehow flipped a switch. And after just a few months alone with Roy in that old house, I knew that as he left I couldn't possibly stay in this sleepy little town where my parents had both lived and died.
I watched him walk away, waving over his broad, strong shoulder at me, and I knew then I would be on the next train out. I didn't even go back to the house, nothing there for me but dusty memories anyway. I bought my ticket, hopped on a train, and left for Central, a city I had only been to once before.
It was time for the winter holidays, so Roy had some time off from his apprenticeship. He was headed back to Central to visit his aunt for a couple weeks, and Father was away at work. He didn't like to be away, and he liked even less that I would be home alone, so he bought me a ticket and sent me to Central with Roy.
When Father told Roy of this plan, Roy was overjoyed. His eyes lit up and he couldn't help the smile that split his face nearly in two. He quickly sombered in order to promise my father that nothing would happen to me during this time, but once Father left Roy was once again unable to contain his excitement.
He talked quickly about his aunt, Madame Christmas, and his sisters, who were all adopted just as he had been, and older than him. He said to ignore half of what they said, as siblings are apparently made to tease and embarrass each other.
I was excited and nervous, I had never left the sleepy little town where my father had grown up. The idea of a big city like Central was nerve-wracking, but Roy promised that it would be fun and he would show me everything and keep me safe.
I spent the whole two weeks at Roy's side and thoroughly enjoyed that holiday season. It turned out to be the last winter we had together, as Roy left for the academy nine months later.
This time I was alone in Central. Despite my determination to join the military, I still felt small in the giant city. But I made it into the academy without a problem. Once there, I found a good friend. Or rather, she found me.
Rebecca joined the academy on the same day as I did. She recognized me from the entrance exam and ended up in the same bunk as me. Rebecca was loud and boisterous, with a big heart and even bigger dreams. She reminded me of Roy and we became fast friends. She convinced me to grow my hair out long and I gave her extra lessons in shooting.
We were soon two of the best snipers in our unit, our only competition, other than each other, was Jean Havoc, who was from a small town close to where I grew up. He was cocky, and had quite a smart mouth, but he learned quickly when to shut up and I learned to enjoy our playful rivalry.
When word came that the war in Ishval was getting out of hand and they needed snipers, I was first to sign up. Havoc followed me, hoping not to lose his new friend. I was glad to be shipping out with someone I knew. Before I left, I cut my hair short again, in fear that Roy wouldn't recognize me with long hair.
After the war, I let my hair grow out again. I had discovered that long hair was fun. And I didn't care what my deceased father thought anymore. He would have hated every decision I made since his death, and probably disowned me, and so I let go of his teachings and did as I pleased.
I watched Roy's back. I stood by his side through everything. It was my job. After he had cared so much for my back, which healed well after being burned and fighting infection. The massive scar didn't bother me much and definitely didn't hinder my shooting ability.
A few years after the war, we got wind of two alchemists. We were told to go and search for them. Edward and Alphonse Elric. Brothers that were roughly the same age as Roy and I. Or so the report said. Once in Risenbool we found a hulking suit of armor with the voice of a 12 year old boy pushing a wheelchair that contained a blond 13 year old who was missing an arm and a leg, but his eyes held a fire that almost outshone Roy's.
Edward and Alphonse Elric were not what we expected, but their determination to right the wrong they had done was unwavering. They spread hope everywhere they went, a quality that was not lost on us or our team. They were young, yes, but the things they had seen and done gave them years they had not yet lived.
We saw much of ourselves in those boys. Roy and Edward butted heads often, and their yelling matches were the talk of Eastern Headquarters. Alphonse was caring beyond belief, but it didn't make him weak. In fact, it made him stronger. Both boys had hearts of gold and could lift spirits without trying. That's why it killed us all when Edward was lost.
It was a sad day for all. Our timing was all wrong. Roy almost died. Edward was lost to some other world. The only bright spark was that Alphonse got his body back, but that came at the price of his memories. He went to Risenbool to grow up as he should have the first time. Once Roy was healed he moved himself to a remote post in the north alone. He went somewhere I could not follow.
The days and years passed, dim and gloomy. We thought that without Bradley everything would be better. But it was not. Not until that day, the day that Edward reappeared, and with him an army of armored soldiers and a flying machine.
Edward's return, however brief, made Roy come back to me. Though he was different from the years of self inflicted isolation.
Together again, things started to look up.
It had been accidental, but the heat of the moment and some antibiotics was enough to change our lives.
We hadn't planned on ever having children, the world wasn't quite right and we both felt that Ed and Al had been as much our children as they were anyone else's. And yet it happened.
Maes Hughes would have been overjoyed at the news. Edward would have been shocked. Alphonse would have been so happy. And yet, none of them were here to enjoy it. Despite all this, it wasn't sad. Rebecca screamed and threw herself on me when I told her, Havoc and Fuery's smiles split their faces in half. Breda and Falman grinned and congratulated Roy profusely.
The child, a little girl, was well loved. She was spoiled by all her "uncles" and "aunts" and Elysia loved having a baby "cousin".
That little girl had Roy completely wrapped around her little finger. His eyes sparkled every time he looked at her.
It was nice to see his eyes glow like that again, like they had so many years ago when he came into my house, just a curious apprentice. So many things had changed since then, and yet, some things stayed the same.
Roy was still Roy, he always had been, though the war and life in this corrupt military government had tried to scrub that out. It had almost succeeded, until Edward came back. And though Edward was still gone, and had once again been lost to another world, he had still brought my Roy back to me. And for that I cannot thank him enough.