A/N: Hey guys, I'm back with yet another Royai fic, because that's all I can write, apparently.
So, here is a character study of one Riza Hawkeye.
I plan to do something similar with Roy. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
As always, I do not own anything. Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. Bow to the cow.
Riza Hawkeye couldn't sleep.
This, of course, was not uncommon. The events of the Ishvalan War, as well as the dreaded Promised Day haunted her dreams and as a result sleep often eluded her. However, at the moment, it wasn't her nightmares of Ishval or Promised Day that kept Riza awake at 2AM. Although, deep down she secretly wished that was the case. It would make her life a lot easier because it was something she was familiar with. Something she knew how to deal with. But no, tonight Riza Hawkeye couldn't sleep because she was haunted by a different kind of troubling incessant thoughts, which could be summed up in two simple words: Roy Mustang.
This has also happened before, but not with this intensity and definitely not in this context. In fact, she studiously (and partially successfully) avoided this particular conundrum for years. Until now that is. Realizing that sleep will not come to her, Riza sat up in her bed. If she couldn't sleep, she'll at least go do something productive. Although what could be considered productive at 2AM was debatable – at best.
Stomping out of her bed like a petulant child, Riza switched on the lights, collected her gun and cleaning kit from a nearby cabinet, and sat at the kitchen table to clean it. She disassembled the gun and began the meticulous process with an almost mechanical precision and ease.
But while the activity occupied her hands and gave her something to fiddle with other than the now-tangled sheets on her bed, it did nothing to prevent her thoughts from going in the same direction as before. Reluctantly admitting defeat, Riza gave in, engaging in a sleep-deprived debate with herself.
Apparently, almost dying put some things into perspective. She'd noticed the change immediately. Roy no longer addressed her by her rank or last name when they were alone and she did not protest. Instead, she simply returned the favor. She no longer stopped him whenever he would do something that could be construed inappropriate and he took that as a sign of approval. Roy now went out of his way to show her how important she is to him – and not just as his adjutant. And she… she let herself entertain thoughts and hopes she hadn't dared to ever before.
And so, her mind was now contemplating the nature of her feelings for the raven-haired Flame Alchemist. Riza remembered the time when she first started to realize that Roy Mustang might not be just a friend or comrade.
A crush. It's just a crush. That was what she repeatedly told herself. But now, she can't help but wonder what even is a crush? What does it even mean? Is it not a meaningless term we use when someone catches our attention but we're not yet sure what to make of it? After all, a crush doesn't necessarily need to lead to anything romantic. You can very well have a crush on a celebrity or a fictional character for that matter. Or you can have a crush on a stranger you just see from afar. Or someone who recently came into your life – like a new friend. You can have a crush on anyone really. And it doesn't have to mean anything. It's harmless. It's temporary. It's common. It's a safe haven, a sweet escape, for those too cowardly to admit that what they are feeling goes just a tad beyond a meaningless crush.
Riza used to believe that her reactions to Roy were the result of a crush. She reasoned that these were just pent-up feelings she had buried a long time ago resurfacing now that Roy was back in her life. An old spark being reignited. A teenage crush coming back to life. Yet, deep down, Riza knew that crushes are not supposed to last this long. Knew that a crush goes away the same way it came – pretty suddenly and uneventfully.
Yes, crushes are temporary by nature. Riza knew this, but she was willing to turn a blind eye. What worried Riza even more than the duration of her – let's say – platonic interest in her superior officer was how far she was willing to go for this man.
At what point this crush grew into something more is hard to pinpoint. If she had to venture a guess, she'd have to say: Ishval. While she did technically follow the man into the war, she did so more for the sake of the power of flame alchemy that she – in a way – bestowed upon him, than for the sake of him as a person. Although, she'd be lying if she said that a part of her didn't want to protect that sweet young soldier who promised to make the world a better place.
As it turned out the Ishvalan War was doing anything but that, and the two of them became partners in crime. It is during their time in Ishval that Riza's harmless, meaningless, stupid crush grew into something more. It wasn't love. Not yet. Not in a place like that. Not in those surroundings so devoid of anything good and righteous.
All she knew is that Roy Mustang was the only person in the middle of that hell she could trust, she could confine in, and the only one she still believed in. He was the one she pulled the trigger for. He was the one she wanted to protect. He was special to her. Something she didn't want to, couldn't afford to lose.
They had mutual respect, trust and loyalty. They shared fears, nightmares and guilt. And they shared secrets. So many secrets. But, most importantly they shared the same hope. They dreamed the same dream. Fought the same battle for a single vision. A single future. In a way, they were bonded forever.
But if not love, then what was it? What next step in this elaborate scheme did we humans come up with? If not love, what was it that she was feeling back then?
Falling, they call it. Or, specifically – falling in love. Unlike a crush, this step is a process and it can take however much time a person needs to actually fall in love. Also, unlike a crush, it is harder to ignore this stupid sensation of falling. Riza, of course, tried negotiating with herself. So, what if her heart rate increases whenever Roy approaches her? Or if her pupils dilate every time their eyes meet? Or if she literally feels her body grow hot when they so much as brush fingers? It doesn't mean anything. That's what she was trying to tell herself. That was Riza Hawkeye's lie.
And for the time being she was perfectly content with lying to herself. After all, they were in the midst of a war and thoughts of romantic feelings for her superior officer – while certainly loud and tempting – were not her priority at the moment. The grim reality around her had suppressed those illusions of romance and replaced them with unbearable and nauseating feeling of regret and guilt.
But then the war ended. As stupid and selfish as it sounds, there was nothing left to protect Riza from her own feelings. Feelings that – she then realized – have apparently grown even stronger against all odds and reason, despite her best efforts to suppress them. As with any other problem, not thinking about it and not dealing with it, did not make the problem go away.
The time she and Roy spent together. The horrors they went through together. The secret that bonded them forever. It all took a toll on Riza, and before she even knew what was happening the process of falling was completed.
Again, when exactly she fell, she did not know. But she knew that the moment she realized it was when she was standing in front of Roy Mustang in his new office as he asked her to be his adjutant. To watch his back. And to shoot him in the back, if he ever strayed from his path. The words that left Riza's mouth did so of their own accord and left even her in utter disbelief. And that's when she knew. If she was willing to follow Mustang into death – and she had no doubt that she was – it could only mean one thing. Riza Hawkeye had fallen. She loved Roy Mustang. There was absolutely no question about it. Not anymore. Suddenly, this reality sunk in with her and she realized that she could no longer deny it. Could no longer ignore it. Could no longer fight it. But then, what was she to do?
Riza knew better than to entertain the credulous idea of her and Roy ever becoming anything more than colleagues and friends. They have made their choice when they decided to embark on this conceited journey in search of unobtainable atonement. Both of them decided to put Amestris and its people first. Love had no place in their plans. Love was a distraction. Love was a liability. Love was what could end them. Love did not have a place in their lives, in their hearts.
Riza Hawkeye knew this and she made her peace with it. After all, someone like her did not deserve the comfort of love. Did not deserve to have a normal life. Did not deserve to have a family. Did not deserve to feel loved. For love is not meant for murderers. War criminals. Hypocrites. Love was too pure for those whose hands have been sullied by so much blood. Riza knew this. And she knew Roy knew it too.
Still, ignoring her feelings wasn't a painless endeavor. Although, it did get easier as time went by. She locked it all up in the deepest end of her heart and never looked back. Never allowed herself to look back. There was no point in dredging up what was best left buried.
However, just because she bottled it all up, it didn't mean that it didn't hurt to have to be around Roy every single day and not be able to so much as call him by his name. It didn't mean that it didn't hurt when Roy would flirt and go out with other women. It didn't mean that it didn't hurt – that it didn't break her heart, her spirit, her whole world into pieces – when she thought he was dead.
Riza was never an overly emotional person. Growing up with a father who barely noticed she was even around led her to alienate herself from everyone. She did not learn how to show emotions. So, on the off chance that she did, it was usually raw, unfiltered and uncontrolled. It happened in the Fifth Laboratory. It happened on Promised Day. And it only ever happened when he was involved. And she hated it.
Sometimes, she thinks she hates loving him. She hates that he's her weakness. She hates that his death would probably be her undoing. Riza Hawkeye hates not being in control and this was the one thing she could not control.
But at the same time… at the same time, she knew that without that love neither of them would last long. Without that level of trust, commitment and co-dependence they would not have made it far. Riza knew that as much as loving Roy hurts her – and it hurts her every day – it is still the best thing that's ever happened to her.
After all, Roy did love her back. She knew that much. She felt it. She saw it every day. The way his eyes and his touch would linger on her just a bit more than appropriate. The way he would always make sure to bring her a cup of coffee after lunch because he knew she needed a pick-me-up. The way he would always know when something was bothering her even if she didn't utter a single word. The way he would worry about her safety constantly. The way he just even looked at her. It was all there. All the signs.
But none of it mattered. None of it. All those little gestures and signs of affection were just their cruel and selfish way of indulging themselves the occasional moment of imagining a future that would never come. So why then… why was she up at fucking two in the morning contemplating the possibility of she and Roy actually having a future beyond just rebuilding Amestris as superior officer and his faithful adjutant? Why has she been pondering the idea of telling Roy how she feels? Why, ever since the events of the Promised Day, she hasn't been able to stop wishing, hoping, dreaming that maybe there was a place for them? For Roy and Riza. For love. For happiness.
What did the Promised Day do to her? To them?
This kind of wistful thinking would never have happened before. Riza would never have let it happen. So, what did change? Well, if she were being honest with herself – and that was the point of the sleep-deprived musings she was currently engrossed in – she'd have to say: everything. Promised Day changed absolutely everything. It upended them. Too much had been said. Too much had been felt. Too much had been bared. Too much for either of them to ignore it and press on. Too much for either of them to forget.
And after all this pointless mulling, Riza was back to the where she started.
Apparently, almost dying put some things into perspective. She'd noticed the change immediately. It made her start questioning their unspoken agreement. It led her here to this very moment, entertaining thoughts and hopes she hadn't dared to ever before.
Of course, Riza still knew better.
She knew that deciding to go where her heart led her was wrong. They still hadn't accomplished their goals. Amerstirs was perhaps in an even bigger mess now. It needed strong leaders. It needed Roy Mustang.
She also knew that they still didn't deserve love and happiness. For after all this time, Riza knew that there was no real atonement. Sins cannot be washed away. Cannot be prayed away. She knew they were still – and always will be – plagued and haunted by their sins. As they very well should be.
But still. Still. Still. Still.
Despite all those things she knew so well. Despite the alarms that were unmistakably blasting in her head. Despite the voice of reason that kept yelling at her to stop. Despite knowing what could – and probably would – go wrong, Riza still couldn't keep ignoring her feelings. Not anymore. Not when she almost died without ever telling him. Not when she felt his hands clutching her to his chest as if there was no tomorrow. Not when he wanted to see her – and only her – when he regained his sight. Not when he asked her – not in words of course – so many times to finally let her guard down. This is also something she knew.
Riza Hawkeye knew what she had to do.
And Riza Hawkeye knew what she wanted to do.
And for the first time in her adult life the latter won.
To hell with the consequences.
She wanted this.
She wanted the distraction.
She wanted the trouble.
She wanted the danger.
And she wanted the comfort.
She wanted to be selfish.
She wanted to be happy.
She wanted him.