Eternally Yours

Full Summary:
Alternate Timeline. She had always been his strength and his guidance. Now that Riza Hawkeye is dead, Roy Mustang makes a desperate deal with Truth to go back in time and try to correct the past, in order to protect and preserve Riza's life before the tragedy occurs again. He is successfully transported into a time when he still wasn't a soldier and just a mere apprentice to the alchemist Berthold Hawkeye, but in return, Riza's memories and love for him have to be rewritten all over again—as Truth watches on the sidelines while this eternal love story in the battlefield yet again unfolds.

One
[Central, 1917]
Roy Mustang

Together we are living for the sake of the future,
In this place and period.

—"Period", by Chemistry

Her brown, brown eyes were the first things that he saw when he opened his black ones. They were sharp yet soft, they were all-seeing yet gentle. That was one of the many things that he loved about her. Yes, that femininity still lurking behind those hardened, battle-weary brown eyes was what attracted him most to the stoic Riza Hawkeye. He smiled and reached out his hand to touch her pale cheek, flushed peach with the rising rays of the rising sun.

He blinked as he realized what was horribly wrong with this picture. His hand, which was but a mere moment to actually rest on her soft skin, hesitated for a heartbeat, and with that, the crashing reality startled him to horror.

This was in no way, shape, or form right, he thought with wide, unbelieving eyes, as his hand remained hovering in the air before Riza's tantalizing smile and big, big brown eyes.

Because for once, he remembered that Riza Hawkeye was supposed to be dead.

Roy Mustang abruptly woke from his disturbing dream (or was it something of a dangerously sweet nightmare?) and sat up with a start, his wide, almond-shaped black eyes staring blankly at the wall directly facing him from the comfortable warmth of his bed. The picture from Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell's wedding, sent just some months ago, was placed haphazardly on the nightstand, a portion of it obscured by the clock that was placed on top of it in an equally absentminded manner. The General yawned slightly as he regarded the time displayed by the said clock without apparent interest. He was, after all, on an extended leave after what happened to him—no, to Riza, just a mere five days ago, and he had no more interest in the passage of time than he did in the passage of pain.

The shock had been a little too much even for Mustang's iron nerves, and the sight of the wreck of a soldier that was he that met his unit back in Central prompted Heymans Breda to advise him to get some time off for himself. Roy knew that his staff members—a mere two of them remaining out of the five-man unit that he had assembled in the past!—were all rattled to hear about the First Lieutenant's untimely and sudden death, but no one of them was more devastated due to her loss than himself. Having known Riza ever since his teenager years, when he was still laboring under the hard lessons and mood swings of Berthold Hawkeye, this sudden nonexistence of the girl that had stood quietly behind him for a quarter of his childhood and almost all of his adult life had pitched him out to the dark.

Quite figuratively, Roy had finally lost his metaphorical sense of sight with the permanent departure of Riza Hawkeye from his life. And since he knew all too well that this distracting thought will cause his work to suffer, he accepted Breda's advice and took a leave. Luckily, General Grumman was also struck by his only granddaughter's death and saw no reason not to grant Roy, the man that she was closest to when she was alive, some peace.

"Damn," he muttered thickly as he slowly went out from under the safety and comfort of the blankets. The chill of the morning air bit his skin as he blearily wore his slippers, his arms immediately folding against his chest as he peered through the partition of the curtains, through the wet window pane, and down to the brilliant whiteness of the snow sparkling on the ground below.

The phone rang shrilly in the deep silence of the room, but Roy Mustang paid no heed as he continued to watch the world outside. Once, twice, thrice, yet it went unanswered as the General immersed himself deep in the memories of his loyal Hawkeye.

"Damn," he repeated, sinking to his knees and huddling down to keep warm, and for the first time, he felt truly vulnerable and terrifyingly… alone. "How long will the rain have to last before it stops?"

Eighteen-year-old Edward Elric was trying to hide the fact that he wasn't feeling too well today, but from seventeen-year-old Alphonse's point of view, he might as well have told him. The perpetual scowl on his face told him everything that he needed to know.

"Brother, why don't you go and take a rest?" he finally said with something like his old timidity, his lip quirking when Ed's scowl deepened at the suggestion. "It's better than letting Winry nag you again about overexerting yourself…" he added with a smile as he played his trump card.

Ed snorted. "I'm not going anywhere else today, anyway. Colonel Bastard wasn't answering any of my calls, so I have no one to annoy."

Alphonse frowned. "Brother, he's still in mourning for Lieutenant Hawkeye. And to get the record straight, it's General now, not Colonel. Are you still that stubborn to not acknowledge the fact that he's well on his way to become Führer someday after General Grumman?"

Ed's scowl softened somewhat at the mention of Riza Hawkeye. "Ah, whatever. It's not as if he's gonna attempt something stupid, like waging war alone against Aerugo or something just because of the Lieutenant's death. He's smarter than he looks, after all." Ed looked up to see Winry coming into the living room with an apple pie. "Good timing, Winry. Weren't we planning to visit the Lieutenant's grave tomorrow?"

Winry smiled slightly, a sliver of sorrow in her voice when she spoke. "Yes," she replied, setting down the dish on the coffee table and watching with approval as Al took one with a murmur of thanks and made quick work of the dessert. "I thought it would be better to come as soon as possible, since we haven't attended the funeral at all."

Ed thoughtfully lifted a piece of pie from the plate and nibbled at it. "Hey, won't the Lieutenant get a posthumous promotion like Brigadier General Hughes? I mean, she was one of the best officers that I've ever seen in action in the Central Command."

Winry nodded with a furrowed brow. "Well, now that you mentioned it, Lieutenant Breda told me that Lieutenant Hawkeye did get promoted two ranks higher after that incident"—Ed didn't miss the euphemism that she made—"so that would mean she's a Major now. The same rank as you when you were still a State Alchemist, right, Ed?"

"Yeah. Huh." Ed finished the last of his pie, and stood up wearily. "Well, I should go take a shower. This cold is getting to my nerves."

Roy Mustang, as he reclined under the covers later that morning, would try to think of how Riza must have looked Death in the face when she was caught in the ensuing crossfire of a misunderstanding with the impatient Aerugian forces. The Fotset border was still disputed over even after decades, and even though Roy had been anxious to avoid a skirmish with the Aerugians, the fact that they made the first treacherous move was what made him crumple the desperate telegram that told of Riza's critical condition in one hand and curse. She was his queen—why hadn't he been more adamant to refuse her when she expressed the wish to lead the group that was going to talk about the peace treaty with the representatives from Aerugo?

"I wish to become your right hand in this matter," she had said firmly when he told her that he could go there himself. "General Grumman had approved of this arrangement also." Oh, how strong and beautiful she looked back then, as she stood in her usual formal posture and looked at him directly with her big brown eyes. The eyes that had him fall in love instantaneously. And of course she got her way, like always whenever she stared at him with such clear eyes.

So in the finale, he couldn't even do anything to stop her, nor go there with her to cover her back this time. He had almost stormed into Grumman's office to demand that he be given the assignment instead, but the old man told him quite calmly that he trusted his granddaughter's diplomatic tendencies.

And where did that fucking trust of yours send her? Roy thought wretchedly, crumpling into a ball underneath the blankets. Where, indeed?

But there was nothing more to be said, yes?

Riza Hawkeye was already dead.

Roy's gaze flicked to the gloves that were strewn carelessly on the chair, along with his dull blue military uniform. The blue that once spoke of his dreams for Amestris… now carried quite a different meaning with him today as he rolled over and lay on his side, his hand stretching out desperately to grasp the reassuring roughness of the pristine white gloves that were marked especially with the flame transmutation circles on the backs.

When his hand finally closed around them, he let them sit there in his hand, his mind busy even as he lay there. If only he can bring back Riza… No, not human transmutation. It was, after all, proven time and again to be ineffective.

But what?

Roy closed his eyes. If only he could turn time back…

But then again, the very idea was impossible.

Hey there.

Roy opened his eyes to a frighteningly familiar white room, the Gate looming overhead as he gasped and stepped back. His fists clenching, he turned around and saw what he was expecting—the phantom image of the Truth, mirroring his height and build.

"What am I doing here?" he asked out loud, his eyes wide. "I haven't even performed anyth—"

Yes, I know, the Truth said lazily, standing up from its comfortable sitting position earlier. But you were doing something earlier, weren't you?

"What? I wasn't," Roy said in confusion.

Thinking about how to get her back, it said, very deliberately. Roy felt his blood run cold.

"What's it to you?" he snapped, a bit more harshly than he had intended.

Come, it said enticingly, and held out its hand. You want to see her again so badly, don't you?

"You're not taking away my eyesight ever again," Roy spat venomously. "And I haven't even attempted human transmutation, for God's sake."

It smiled—no, grinned, large white teeth showing up where the mouth would have been if it were human and had a real face. That's why I summoned you here myself, it said with the lightest implications. I'd like to see how far humans will take themselves just to regain their loved ones. The Elric brothers transmuted their mother and lost their limbs, Izumi Curtis transmuted her child and came back half-dead and unable to reproduce any longer. You came here once and had your eyesight taken for no apparent reason. Tell me, how much more will you humans sacrifice if I present another way to get them back? Without defects or ugly consequences? But of course… Roy could feel, rather than see, it leering. The consequences will be fatal if you decide to act accordingly, so you couldn't say that it would be my fault if you end up getting yourself or your lover killed. In the end, it's all up to you.

"What… what are you talking about?" Roy snarled suspiciously, taking a step back.

You wanted to see her alive once more, it said. Then nothing would be quite more effective than turning back Time itself, yes?

Roy's black eyes widened again. "That's… impossib—"

You're talking to the Truth, it cut through his statement smoothly, the grin still plastered on its face-that-was-not-a-face. And the Truth frees everything from everything… even the Past from Time itself.

"You're… not…"

I'm serious, it said. Come, what have you to lose? She had been taken from you… You have nothing left to gamble upon but your life.

And Roy, for once, knew that the Truth was sincere. That it wasn't planning on taking anything of real importance to him because he had nothing left.

That startling vision of Riza looking up at him with those smiling brown eyes was too tempting to even try to resist a little. And Roy knew that he had horribly lost the mind game. If he was going to see Riza again, even for just a little while, he'd give up anything. Everything. And the Truth knew it.

"And what do you take if I do accept your offer?" he said, licking dry lips.

Well, what I have is a task for you, it said ominously.

"What is it?"

The Truth smirked. You have to prevent Riza Hawkeye's death. If you can't, then… We'll go back to zero.

Roy swallowed. This? Only this? He almost cried with relief. "I accept. I don't care."

As long as I see her again, he murmured to himself.

Open the Gate, then, it said, cunningly, cunningly.

And Roy turned around to see the huge stone Gates swing open, black hands spinning toward him quickly and pulling him into the darkness. He did not have the presence of mind or the adequate amount of terror to even shout in surprise.

What was only in his mind was the memory of Riza's brown, brown eyes.

And they were the last things that he remembered before he blacked out.

"Colonel—I mean, General Bastard's still away?"

Edward's disbelief rang out through the hallway as Sergeant Major Kain Fuery met him apologetically at the door to the General's office at the Central Command Headquarters. Even though he looked slightly affronted at the accentuation of the term "General Bastard" (or of the term itself), he made no other notice to show that he was bothered by it. Winry, who was a few steps behind him, grimaced at this piece of rudeness.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience," Fuery said with a low sigh. "But this leave was permitted by the Führer himself, so it's not as if he's just running off by himself to skip work intentionally."

"I'd rather that be the case than this, though," Ed said shortly, his golden gaze drooping to the floor in a quiet kind of way, before looking up again and saying brusquely, "He's got no right to go away and mope around when he's got lots of work to do. He's still aiming to be the Führer someday, right? So if I were him, maybe I should drag my lazy ass up here and take care of things to get my mind off… everything."

"But that's easier said than done, Ed," Winry said severely, her hands crossed over her chest crossly. "General Mustang is human too, you know."

Ed huffed. "Whatever," he said darkly. "But if Mustang isn't doing anything to cope with Lieu—er, Major Hawkeye's death"—his golden eyes glinted—"then I didn't truly know him."

And with these ominous words, the man who was formerly called by colleagues as the Fullmetal Alchemist spun on his heel and strode off, his wife following closely at his heels.

Author's Note:

Back from a long break! This is my first FMA fic, so please understand if I had portrayed the characters in a slightly off way. This was inspired by a television show in my country, soooo... (trails off)

Reviews make me giddy. More so if they contain lots of comments and encouragements.

Story Notes:

This will be mainly Roy-centric and a bit of Riza-centric too. So hooray, RoyAi. XD