Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.

Summary: Growing up Riza's life has been nothing but filled with fire.

Author's Note: I should probably update Checkmate or Coffee Break, for those of you who are reading those.. but, this idea wouldn't get unwritten from my brain. (: And yes, the summary sucks. If anyone could help me with a summary, I'd definitely listen to any suggestions.

FIRE EYES
chapter one: memories of fire

--

"Look, Riza." she looks at the fleeting winged insects as they swarm in the air, and wonders why their wings are fire coloured. She asks her father, and he shrugs petulantly. She turns back to watch them writhe in the air.

"They're called Monarchs, Rize, Monarch Butterflies. Beautiful, aren't they?" She cannot think of them as beautiful but she does not tell him so. She knows better than to disagree with his opinions when his state of mind is anything less than clear.

"Monarchs.. tell me, Riza, dear.." he comments absentmindedly before turning bloodshot eyes to hers, and she suddenly realizes she desperately misses her father, though he is there with her and, arguably, not, "would you agree to helping me with my Alchemy research?"

She has seen Roy deal with her father in his fits of Alchemy driven insanity, and though she is fearful she has sworn to be courageous like her father's dark-eyed apprentice.

"Yes."

--

How fitting that one of teh fire wielding butterflies has settled by her nose. When she and Father arrived home from their 'walk' she had spoke nothing of Father's conversation to Roy. Presently, she stares at the butterfly as Father presses fire to her back. The pain is incredible and she fights teh red threatening to engulf her consciousness but she does not cry out.

She hears Father's attempted comfortings mixed with his morbid mutterings.

The delicate butterfly flutters closer and bats its frail wings against her eyelids. Her pain increases immensely and she closes her eyes. The fire butterfly settles burningly against her throat and steals the air from her breath. She gasps for oxygen but receives nothing but scorching heat against her throat. She presses her eyelids closed and tries to push away the red pain but it does not lift off her chest.

She feels the ink seeping deep down through her skin and fless, guided by the heated metallic of teh tattoo needle.

The world dissipates in a whilring red mass.