Disclaimer: I do not possess any talent in writing whatsoever. Neither do I possess a creative, witty and/or amusing disclaimer. (sigh)
Written entirely to Evanescence's Fallen album…it really is a fantastic CD.
Three weeks had passed since First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye last saw the world. She now lay immobilised, in a catatonic state, frozen in time. Eerily enough, her tawny eyes remained open, staring aimlessly with an endless gaze that chilled all who dared to enter.
Roy awoke from his fitful slumber and instantly glanced towards his subordinate, wishing desperately that she would also awaken. He arose slowly, walked over to the bed and sat himself upon the plastic stool that stood beside it, staring at Riza's features intently.
Self-consciously, he noted that in her current state, she looked rather plastic. Oh yes, she was very pretty in that plastic shell…yet so very…fake. None of her inner beauty shone through…she was but a doll. A doll that does not think, speak or feel. A doll that merely gazes out at the world through painted eyes, forever condemned to an eternity spent watching the world pass her by.
He chuckled morosely, wondering how she would react if she was conscious and he had voiced his opinion. Undoubtedly, there would be a rapid scrambling of feet, many near misses, close shaves, narrow escapes and inevitably, hissing holes in the smoking alabaster wall.
His face was cast into a grim line, for the words of the previous doctor echoed in his head.
"It's only 10 percent…"
Coughing abruptly, Mustang lifted his gaze to the window, peering through the blanket of darkness that had descended upon the land. He fixated his stare on the spherical figure illuminating the sky…oh how very elusive it was. Strangely enough, it was like life. Whenever he had just managed to grasp something, it discreetly slipped out of his hands, evading him, teasing him even. The moon went through this phase…when he was a child; he would often reach out towards the heavens in hope of finding the curved crescent, flexing his digits in a grabbing motion, desperate to touch it, to feel the smooth glowing texture beneath his calloused fingers. Yet every night, the moon had eluded him and even now, continued to do so. No longer were his hands unmarked and pure like a child's, but instead, they reeked with the stench of blood; with the lives that he had taken etched into them, a constant reminder of the sins that haunted him to this very day.
Deciding to stretch his limbs, the colonel ambled along the long corridor outside Riza's room and discovered a small eloquent sign that read, 'Flowers' in an illustrious script, hanging precariously over an archway. The raven-haired man looked around the colourful room, bouquets of spontaneous tulips, triumphant marigolds, cold hyacinths, soft lavenders and crinkly carnations meeting his troubled gaze.
"Do you need some help, dear?" An elderly woman questioned, her eyes boring into his very soul.
"Ah…yes…would you happen to have any lilies?" Roy asked, suddenly finding the checkered linoleum beneath his boots extremely interesting.
"I think we're out of lilies today. I'm very sorry."
He smiled briefly at the old lady. "It's alright. Thank you anyway."
He began to leave but was interrupted by a quick, "Oh, could you wait a moment? We may have some in the back."
The kindly old woman turned and hurried away, allowing Roy to catch a glimpse of her silvery locks, swept into an elegant bun. Like Hawkeye's, her hairstyle was secured by a simplistic clip, only hers was fashioned in the shape of an iris, complementing her cerulean eyes.
The florist returned shortly, carrying a vivid orange lily in her wrinkled hands.
"Wow…" Mustang said, awe-struck, "I've never seen such an exotic lily before. I'll take it."
She nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. I'm glad I remembered it."
Crossing the subtly scented room, she placed the flower on the working bench, brushing the previous clippings aside. "Now, young man, what would your name be?" Ocean blue eyes stared into his and her writing implement paused, poised above the worn writing pad.
"Mr. Mustang."
"Mustang…Mustang…" the elderly woman tapped her temple with her pen, "Oh my, you're the famed Flame Alchemist, are you not?"
"Yes, ma'am." Roy sighed.
The silver-haired lady chuckled as she wrote down his name.
"Mr. Mustang, do you know the significance of this flower?"
Roy shook his head, wondering why on earth flowers had meanings in the first place.
"Well, the orange lily signifies flame. In a nutshell, it means, I burn for you. Ironic, no?" She winked, handing the navy-blue clad figure the flower. She paused, as if thinking, and reached under the messy counter, passing Roy a transparent glass vase.
Roy pulled out his wallet. "So how much do I…"
She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes emanating truth and wisdom. "My boy, the best things in life are free."
He fingered the resplendent lily, pondering the old lady's kindness, before placing it in the glass vase that he had previously filled with water.
The lieutenant colonel sat beside his subordinate once more,a commander attending to his officer. Only this time, the person of question was much more than an officer. The person of question was a pillar of strength, inspiring mentor and if nothing else, a loyal friend.
Perhaps the tangerine lily would somehow summarise all his feelings for her. He looked introspective for a moment then pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, hastily scribbling down his innermost thoughts in his usual illegible scrawl. He folded the note crisply and set it down on the bedside table, next to the brilliant titian bloom.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Roy's eyes flickered wildly towards the life support system, watching the red line race erratically up and down the chart, signaling the shutting down of Riza's body.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He tore his eyes away from the hateful machine and kneeled next to her, placing his calloused hand in hers, causing her to close her eyes in relief.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
He felt her hand squeeze his ever so slightly and he squeezed hers back gently in response.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The ghost of a smile flitted across her pale features, illuminating her face for the last time.
Beep.
Her body relaxed and her hand went limp, uncurling itself from Roy's grasp, a withered bloom unfurling its petals. As it did so, he felt a part of him die, something that was so crucial to his very being that he felt as though his heart would sooner shatter into a thousand pieces than bear the pain of being without it. He'd let another one slip…
He bowed his head over her frail body, letting the tears of anguish and grief flow freely. He wept, wept for Ishbal, wept for all the fallen comrades, wept for Maes and most of all, wept for Riza.
As the last tear left his onyx eyes, the pale dawn surfaced, bringing forth a fresh source of light that banished the shadows to the far corners of the land. Giving renewed hope to the world, another chance, a new day to begin anew. Because some things, no matter how long ago, will never be forgotten.
The flame of my heart burns for you and you alone.
It always has, always does, and always will.
I love you, Riza Hawkeye.
And nothing, not even the cruel clutches of death, will ever change that.
Well, that's the end of that. (dusts hands) Quite happy with that ending.
Just a bit of trivia for you, the bit about the orange lily's meaning is actually true. Oh yes, I shall post an alternate ending shortly, for those who didn't want Riza to die.
In the meantime, kindly review and let me know of your opinions. I appreciate it greatly.
