Hello y'all!
Well thanks to the Royai discord, I watched 'Hamilton' for the first time, and decided to participate in The Royai Mixtape on AO3, with stories inspired by the songs from 'Hamilton'. This OS is inspired by "Non-Stop".
Some warnings: alcohol and back burning ahead (nothing descriptive).
There's a mix of angst and hurt/comfort combined with fluff, idk where to put it.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa
Enjoy!
"One day this country will be a democracy. I swear to you, I'll make it happen." Roy put down his glass on the bar as he declared one of his strongest promises of his life. "Mark my words, Hughes, one day you'll see me at the top of this damn country. And I'll change it. Will you help me in this enterprise?"
"I would never miss that for anything," Hughes replied, smirking. "I told you in Ishval that I would support you, and I'll keep my word. You can count on me, but I think you'll need more people to help you. People close to you. That Hawkeye girl, to start with. I don't really know her, but she seems to be strong and rooted in reality. Keep her close to you, and choose others who can support you and your project."
Roy's grip around his glass tightened. His face twisted as bad memories came to his mind. He couldn't face Riza. Not now. Not after what he'd done to her. And he wasn't ready to do what she'd asked him to do. But Hughes was right. He needed people who knew him, and if Riza was willing to stick by his side even after… the day he would burn her back - Roy shut his eyes closed and pressed his forehead on his palm - he would gladly have her. He sighed heavily, then raised his head and faced his best friend.
"Well, enough of my rambling for tonight, we've got a bachelor party to celebrate!" He said in an attempt to cheer himself.
The rest of the night went smoothly, and it was an inebriated Roy Mustang who took the phone in his hotel room at five in the morning. He dialed a number he knew by heart after looking at it for hours when he was alone in his nearly empty flat. She'd given him her number and address a few days after she'd begun to serve under the command of some other Lieutenant-Colonel in East City HQ.
He realized two things when Riza Hawkeye answered.
It was five in the morning.
She was awake.
He couldn't process any further into the information.
"Hello?"
His body froze, his blood stopped flowing in his veins, his hair ruffled on his head when he heard the tired, exhausted, almost distraught voice of the young woman he'd known for years now.
"Ri… Hawkeye. It's Roy. Roy Mustang," he said.
"I only know one Roy, Mr. Mustang," she replied, and he winced because of his own stupidity. "Shall I call you Major Mustang?"
Roy shook his head, even if she couldn't see him over the phone. "I'm a Lieutenant-Colonel now… But you can call me Mustang, or Roy, if you want."
She stayed silent for a moment, and Roy suddenly dreaded her next reply. "Why are you calling me?" She asked, and her voice suddenly sounded firmer.
"I'll do it," Roy spluttered. He took a deep breath, and his next words flowed like a torrent. "I'll burn your back like you asked me to do. I don't want to hurt you, but I realized that I already did hurt you, and if I can atone for what I've done, I'll do it. I'll do it because you deserve to be freed from the burden your father put on you. I'll do it because I don't want another Flame alchemist too. One is enough. It's even too much for this world, but I've got too much to do to die now. Tell me the day, I'll be there. I'll make sure you won't have to worry about sick leave, I'll take care of you while you heal if you want, or I'll leave you alone. Riza, I'll do what you want, and then I'm going to let you decide what you want to do next."
A deep, thick silence settled at each end of the phone. Roy's head ached suddenly, so he sat in a chair to avoid any dizziness. Silence stretched like a thread of hot caramel, until Riza broke it.
"Next Friday, 8pm at my place." And she hung up.
Roy stared at the phone, his heart beating too fast after his speech and the silence, and his throat dry. It could be because of the alcohol, but it was mostly because of the realization that he'd accepted to burn the back of the woman he wanted the most to trust him.
A few days later, he knocked on her door, a bag full of medical supplies under his arm, another bag with some clothes in his hand. The first thing he saw when she opened were the dark bags under her eyes. He'd never seen her like that when he crossed her path in the command center. Did she put concealer to hide them?
"I already bought disinfectant, ointments and bandages, that wasn't necessary, sir," she told him as he handed her the bag.
"They'll be," he replied. "You won't be able to go out for a moment, and one's never cautious enough."
Their eyes locked and sort of an understanding passed between them. She'd seen his own bags, and knew why they were there.
"Put your things on the couch," she told him with a gesture to the old couch in a corner of the room that was her kitchen and living room at the same time. "Do you want to drink something? Coffee? Tea? Something else?"
Roy's heart clenched in his chest. He was about to burn her back, and she was offering him tea. He managed to unfold his fist and dropped his bag on the couch. "I'll have some coffee. I'll need to stay awake to tend… your back."
Hawkeye nodded silently and worked around the kitchen, putting the kettle on the fire. As they waited for the water to boil, Roy sat on the couch. He could feel all the springs of the seat base and wondered briefly if she had some spare blankets to add some smoothness and avoid him having back pain.
That wasn't the moment to think about his own back, he scolded himself. So, he asked her how she wanted to do it.
"How do you intend to do it?" She asked instead. "Will you burn it all?"
She sounded distant, almost detached, like she wasn't talking about her own back. "I remember which parts are the most important to understand how flame alchemy works. I'll burn that, and only that." He raised his head and gazed at her. "I don't want to hurt you more than necessary. You're already suffering too much, and I don't want to add to your pain."
He couldn't decipher the look in her eyes, and the whistle of the kettle diverted her attention. She turned away to prepare his coffee. When she came back, a new determination was shining in her eyes. "Alright then. I'll let you drink your coffee while I'll check for everything in my room. Tell me when you're ready."
Ten minutes later, Roy was standing on the threshold of her bedroom, his gloves in his clenched fist, and a lump in his throat. He would never be ready, but he had to do it.
Hawkeye was sitting on her bed, her naked back facing him. He cleared his throat, but it was a mix between a whisper and a croak that came out of his mouth. "Let's do it."
She nodded and he approached her cautiously. She had removed all bed sheets and was sitting on a bare mattress, to avoid any accident with his flames. Many buckets, pots and basins filled with water were covering the floor. And the medical supplies she'd bought were placed on her bedside table.
One couldn't be too cautious.
He sat on the chair placed beside the bed. His glove laying in one hand, he raised the other. "Riza…" She froze as he called her first name. "Can I touch your back to show you where I'll burn?" The last word had passed his lips like a hiccup, as if he didn't want to say it. He didn't want to say it.
"Without your gloves, then." He could hear the tension in her voice. Her fear was understandable, and he blamed himself for making her feel that way. The only person who'd made her feel the same had been her father.
"I'm not wearing them yet," he replied. She shuddered under his touch below her collarbone and on the middle of her back. "Here and here," he added.
"Let's go, then." She placed a cloth between her teeths and he put on his right glove. He didn't need more.
He snapped his fingers.
Riza screamed.
Roy threw away his glove and poured a full bucket on her back, then another, then another, and another again. Then he tended to her burn, and watched over her until she fell asleep.
Beside her scream and a few whimpers as he'd put ointment and bandages on her back, she hadn't uttered a word at all.
Roy found a blanket and put it on her weak form as she slept. He placed wet clothes on her forehead to reduce her fever. And he sat by her side, reading a book and taking care of her. He prepared more coffee, and when the sun's first rays passed through the curtains, he hadn't closed his eyes all night.
"What are you reading?"
Riza's voice startled him. He looked at her and winced. She'd turned her head and was gazing at him. Her face was pale, and threads of sweat were running on her forehead. "I'm not looking good, I guess," she said with a faint smile, that faded out when she tried to move more.
"How painful is it?" Roy began to rise but she stopped him, raising her arm.
"The bad kind of pain," she articulated with a wince. "I want to think about something else. Is your book about alchemy?"
Roy shook his head. "It's about the Aerugonian political system."
She stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why?"
"I want to change Amestris. I want to make it a democracy. I want to make a new nation, where soldiers won't be asked to kill innocents like we'd been asked. So I study."
"You told me you wanted to protect people, to protect your country."
"I failed to do so in Ishval, but I still want to do it."
"And you want to change Amestris into a democracy."
"Yes."
"But…" She didn't sound surprised. She sounded like she knew his intentions. "You need to be at the top to do so."
"I know. And I intend to do that."
Riza turned her head away and stayed silent for long minutes. Roy dreaded her reaction, and he forgot to breathe. He looked down to his book, staring at the words without understanding them.
"I like your dream. I think it's beautiful. It's ambitious, though, and you'll need help." Roy raised his head as she spoke. "Let me be part of this dream. Let me carry my own part, let me atone for my own crimes beside you. This time, let me watch over you to make sure that you won't stray away, that you'll keep your promise."
A lump formed in his throat, and tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. "If you want me as your commanding officer, I'll ask for your transfer."
"There's no need for that." There was a strange laugh in Riza's voice, and Roy's head snapped upright.
"What?"
"I already submitted a transfer request to Gr… Grumman," she explained. Before he could say any word, she added: "I thought about what you did because of what I gave you. I thought about it every day, every night since we're back. And my conclusion is that I need to be under your command to see how you act after all you did. This time, I'll make sure you keep your promise."
Roy's mind was running free. All coherent thoughts had disappeared, leaving a blank canva in his head. "When?" was the only word he could utter.
"Monday, after you called me."
Roy stifled a laugh. She'd already anticipated his will, and he couldn't do anything in front of the evidence. Riza Hawkeye knew he was ambitious and needed her by his side. "I'll make sure that all your things will be in place in my office when you come back from sick leave. And I'll need to tell you about my team, to make sure you're prepared for them."
They locked gazes until his stomach rumbled. He suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten anything since his last lunch. "Do you want something to eat?" He asked.
Riza placed her head on her pillow. She looked exhausted. "Only tea, please. With a bit of milk. I've prepared some meals so I won't have to do groceries before I'm able to stand and walk. You can take what you want."
The rest of the weekend passed in a twinkle. They barely spoke, and Roy tended her burns, read a lot, and explained to her his project. When Monday morning came, he left her after promising he would come after work to change her bandage.
Evening came, and Roy unlocked her door with the spare key Hawkeye had given him. He tended her wounds, helped her to rise and guided her to the bathroom. She was still too weak to move alone, and the strange intimacy of him helping her to undress and wash made him long for more. He remembered the days spent with her when he'd studied the tattoo on her back. He longed for that simplicity, for that domesticity he no longer deserved, and wasn't allowed to dream about anymore.
They ate together, Hawkeye on her bed with a tray, Roy on the chair beside her. It was simple, fast, and when he was done with the dishes he returned to her room, took out the same book and started to study. Riza was laying on her stomach, reading too. But soon after, her voice rang softly to his ears.
"Let me help you with that." As Roy glanced at her, he saw her lips slightly curved. "It's sometimes easier to study together, and you know we work well when it's the two of us."
Roy's breath caught into his lungs. She remembered when they were in the small kitchen of her house, both busy with some lessons - alchemy for Roy, algebra or geography for Riza. She remembered how they asked the other about what they'd learned. She remembered the joy of days that couldn't exist anymore.
And it was his fault.
"Why?" He asked. Why did she want to help him? Why did she want to stay by his side after all he'd done to her? Why hadn't she kicked him out of her flat after he'd burnt her back? All these questions stayed silent, but he hoped his "why?" would carry them with it.
"Because I asked you to do it. Because if I work with you, I will atone for my sins too. Because I know that I couldn't forget you even if we were separated. Because despite all the things you did, you deserve at least one chance to right your wrongs."
Her eyes shone with tears, and in the blink of an eye, he was kneeling beside her, his hand cradling her cheek and a begging expression on his face.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry. You trusted me, and I couldn't do anything to prevent the army from using my alchemy to do the opposite of my wish. But I want you to know that I'll put all my strenght to mend the consequences of my actions, even if there's no forgiveness at the end."
Riza reached for his hand and took it, pulling it from her cheek. She entwined her fingers and lightly stroked his palm with her thumb. "Forgiveness," she murmured. "I can give you that because you… we need forgiveness even when we think we don't deserve it."
Roy stayed silent, taken aback, gazing at Riza. He tried to clear his throat, but only a whisper passed his lips. "Thank you."
A minute passed, and Roy enjoyed the simple feeling of Riza's hand in his.
"So… is that book interesting?"
Then, Roy spent the next ten minutes explaining how politics in Aerugo worked, how it was different from Amestris, because it was a principality, with a prince working with ministers and a parliament.
"If their State leader is a prince, that means that it's a life term. But that's not what you're envisioning for Amestris."
Roy nodded. "It isn't. I want to put an end to life tenures, to avoid making the same mistakes over and over."
They read the book together, sharing their points of view, and soon after, a stack of papers was laying next to Roy on the floor, filled with ideas.
"I've found more books in the library, but I think that I'll need more, that I'll need to look for countries beyond our neighbors."
"You've got enough time to study the books you already have, but you can look for more."
Every night they studied, read, talked, until Riza was strong enough to take care of herself, to cook and go outside. But he still came to study, talk about his project and his team, and tend her burns. She recovered her strength, and three weeks after he'd burnt her back, she got back to work, under Roy's command.
"How's your back?" Roy asked her one day, when she was bringing him a new stack of reports to sign.
Hawkeye stretched, moved her arms, and smiled. "It itches sometimes, and it still seems a bit red, but I'm fine. You did some great work."
Roy winced. He hasn't done a great job. He'd done what he could to avoid any more pain for her, but he'd burnt her back, for God's sake!
"By the way, you do know that Havoc's parents have a store that sells everything, don't you?"
Roy frowned, not knowing what she meant. He nodded.
"Well, I asked him if by everything he meant books from other countries, and he told me that it was possible. Maybe, if you trust him enough to tell him about your ambition, he'll help you."
Did he trust Jean Havoc? Did he trust his team? He knew them for six months, but they'd lived enough things together to know that he would trust his life to Havoc without hesitation, that Breda would always find the best strategy for the least risks, and Falman would answer his questions before he would even think about them. Yeah, he trusted them.
"I'll need to talk to them all. But not in central command. It's too important to let anyone else know about it."
"I've got an idea," Hawkeye declared, a little unsure. "There's someone else who can help you and let us use his house to speak under the cover of a work reunion."
Roy froze. "Do you mean… Grumman?" Somehow, he didn't like the idea of a high-ranked General knowing about his intentions for the country. He liked the General, but something in his behavior was strange. He didn't like the light that shone behind his round glasses, nor the smile hidden by his big moustache.
He sighed. "Fine. Do you want to tell your grandfather about it or do you let me do it myself?"
"Well, at this point, I feel like it would be better if you were to talk to him. After all, it's all about you."
Roy shrugged. Alright, he'd do it.
"So what did you want to tell us that was too important and secret that you wanted a safe place to speak?" Havoc asked with a smirk. But Roy could see his curiosity in his eyes and he knew his posture. He always behaved like that when they were on the verge of an important mission.
Havoc wasn't smart the way Breda and Falman were, but he could read a room the second he entered somewhere, and he deciphered others' moods easily, so he could adapt his behavior to the atmosphere. Roy was glad to have him by his side. He would be as precious as any other of his subordinates.
Roy settled in his chair, leaning against the back and looked at his subordinates. They were in Grumman's living room, sitting on comfortable seats, with tea served in porcelain cups and biscuits lying on a plate. Breda had already eaten three of them while the others were nibbling on their first one. Falman put down his cup, gazing at him expectantly. All eyes were on him. Roy breathed in, mustering his courage.
"What will be said in this room is a secret. Am I clear enough?" They nodded and expressed their agreement. "You'll be allowed to talk about it, but only with me, or far from other people."
He glanced at Hawkeye and saw her smiling at him across the room. How could he be so lucky to have her under his command? By his side? I'll follow you even into Hell, she'd told him. And he'd in turn trusted her to watch his back.
"You all know about my 'great achievements' in Ishval," he began. "And I can tell you know I'm not proud of them." He gulped and looked at his empty cup with regret. He should have filled it before speaking so he would have something to delay his great speech.
"I intend to become the Fuhrer."
All three men looked at him in disbelief. Falman's cup stayed up in the air between the saucer and his mouth, Havoc let a whistle pass his lips and Breda's biscuit almost fell from his hand.
And Riza looked proud. She radiated the same determination he'd seen in her eyes when she'd asked him to burn his back and when she'd decided to serve under his command. She would follow him on his path and watch for his missteps.
"When I became a soldier, I wanted to protect my country and its citizens. I wanted to use my alchemy for good, and that's why I became a State Alchemist. But Ishval shook up my convictions. I realized that by myself I wasn't powerful enough, that our government didn't care about its citizens, and the only way I've found to protect everyone is to climb to the top and change Amestris from there to make it a safe and peaceful country."
Silence was the only answer he could get at first. Then, Havoc cleared his throat. "Why?" He asked. "I mean, why are you telling us that?" He shrugged and gestured in the air.
Roy moved to the front of his seat. What he was going to say was one of the most important declarations he'd ever said. He looked at his men, one after the other, in the eyes. "For the last few months, I've watched you all, I learned to know you, we've lived a lot together, and I now know that I can trust you. I can trust you with my life, and I know that I can trust you with this secret."
Hawkeye's face didn't change, but Roy could see the light in her eyes shine even brighter. Havoc was beaming, Breda was deadpan, and Falman's eyes were wide with surprise.
"Colonel, if I may ask…" Breda hesitated. "How do you intend to reach that goal? Many other officers and Generals can pretend to that place, would Bradley give it up his position. What could help you to climb the ranks?"
"Well, I've already got my reputation from Ishval, but I've been told to keep a low profile and do my job in a way the brass won't find threatening."
"How?" Breda's question was pertinent, and Roy had thought a lot about it.
"I must gain a reputation that would make me look harmless, even if I do my job. That means I'll have to become a womanizer. Or at least look like one."
This time too the only person who didn't flinch was Hawkeye since she had been the one who'd given him the idea. Roy couldn't hide his smirk as his subordinates expressed their surprise in their own way.
"Well, that's your job, but what can we do to help you?" Falman asked eventually.
Roy crossed his legs, gaining more confidence. "I'll need you first to keep the secret about my intentions. Is that clear?"
"You already asked, sir," Havoc replied. "But you know that we'll keep that secret." The others nodded, serious.
"Good. The second thing is about resources. I want to know a lot about political systems in other countries, and it's difficult to find books in Amestris. So if you know about a good book, tell me, and I'll ask trustful people to look for it."
Havoc and Falman glanced at each other. "We can help you on this, sir," Falman said. "I can find documents and Havoc can find a way to bring them to his parents' shop. Then, they can send them to me or I can go when I visit them."
"Thank you guys." Roy smiled at them. However, he had an idea to combine two of his objectives. "Breda, do you think you can contact some people for me? They are not well-seen in Amestris, but their help will be precious in the future. I want to know if they'll be ready to help me if I lift the charges against them for their position against Bradley's politics."
"Give me the list, I'll take care of that," Breda deadpanned. For the few months Roy had known him, he'd learned he could joke and laugh a lot with his friends, but in missions he was serious and dedicated. This task was the best for him, since he would negotiate with people that didn't really like the military.
Only Hawkeye remained without a task. She stared at him wordlessly, waiting for him to speak.
"Hawkeye, your mission will be simple. Keep me on the right path and help me to study."
Breda snorted. "Isn't that already her mission? Colonel, you're not easing her job, because that means she'll have to look after you even outside of work."
Roy frowned. "She's the only person explicitly allowed to shoot me if I stray from my goal, and this mission won't bother her. What do you say, Hawkeye?"
Riza put down her cup, chose a cookie on the plate and took a bite of it. "If that's what you want me to do, sir, I'll gladly do it. But in your interest you'll have to work even more to compensate for the time you'll spend napping at the HQ." She glared at him, dead serious, then a faint smile appeared on her lips and a mischievous glint lit in her eyes. "Because you're going to need sleep after I've overseen your studying sessions."
Roy shivered as memories came back into his mind. Studying with young Riza had been great, but the memory of her merciless test wasn't. "Lieutenant, I beg you, do not torture me."
"Unless you're unwilling to learn, it won't be so hard. I know you can do great when you want." Riza raised her eyebrows. She knew him too well, he realized, and the corners of his lips turned upward.
"Very well, Hawkeye, I count on you!"
They shared a look and smiled at each other.
"Now we'll find a way to build the nation I'm dreaming of."
A few days after, Roy began to work on his new reputation. And who else were best than his aunt's girls to share intel while looking like a womanizer? The girls gave him the books he looked for imported by the Havocs, or the contact of a lawyer, an economist, a former member of the Parliament given by Hughes. Hughes' work in the justice department gave him access to many trials and information about the whereabouts of many people exiled by the military.
Roy spend sleepless nights studying his books, preparing his future government, his future country. He wrote letters after letters, laws after laws, tried to figure how the transition could be done, and he planned the way a democratic regime could work in Amestris. Amestrian people were used to Bradley's ways, and the changes were too brutal, they wouldn't accept it so easily. His future included the rebuilding of Ishval too. He couldn't let what he'd done without repair.
These sleepless nights weren't spent all alone. Riza was always there, interrogating him, testing his propositions, or simply being present and supporting him. Many times when he was feeling down, she was the one to tell him to rest. "Stay alive, that's enough for now", "You did a great job, when we know you started from almost nothing."
They talked a lot about what they intended to do after Amestris became a democracy. "You know that we'll be tried for our crimes," Roy told her one night. They were on his couch, surrounded by books and papers.
Riza lowered the book in her hands and looked at him. "I do."
"Are you ready for what is likely to happen after that?" They would be sentenced to death. It was his intimate conviction.
"Nobody is ever ready to die," Riza replied with a sad smile on her lips. "But I'll accept that even if it's something I dread. But I won't stop doing what's right. I'll keep working with you and helping you."
"Why?" Somehow, Roy already knew her answer, but he needed to hear her say it.
"Because I'm one of the reasons you did what you did. Because I want to stay by your side to atone for my crimes. Because without you I feel like I'm worthless." Riza's knuckles turned white around the book she was holding.
Roy put a hand on hers, and she gazed at him. "You're not worthless, Riza. You're the most capable woman I know, and it's not because of me. Even before I met you, you were keeping a house and your father together unswervingly. Even without me you would have become a strong and willing woman. And I don't know what I would have become without you. I don't deserve you, after all I did, but you're still here, and I'm happy with that." She closed her eyes as he placed a hand on her cheek.
"I don't want to be anywhere else than beside you," she whispered. "Even if our time is limited, even if the military doesn't approve it, I want to spend each second of it with you."
Roy embraced her without warning. His heart pulsed quickly in his chest as he worried he'd gone too far. But Riza clinged to him and hummed softly. They enjoyed the hug until Roy felt she'd fallen asleep. Gently he laid her on the couch and covered her with a blanket. He took another book and dived back into his research.
At work Roy slept a lot. Every member of his team, including Kain Fuery, their youngest recruit, knew it was because of his nights spent studying. They let him sleep, because a procrastinating womanizer wasn't harmful for the brass, as long as he did his job correctly.
For years, behind the back of the military, a new nation was emerging from the mind of a soldier who wanted to change his country for the best. And a new relationship based on forgiveness, trust and hardships bloomed in adversity.