interstellar5555 | Wise men say...

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Wise men say...

Who: Roy Mustang & Riza Hawkeye
What: Roy has to spend Valentine's performing for happy couples but ~~due to popular demand~~ he doesn't have to spend the entire evening alone
When: The evening of Feb 14th
Where: An old school club with a stage somewhere in Vista City
Warnings: Brief mention of previous torture and bad war memories. Romantic mush. Might give shippers feels.

The preview performances and interviews for the album were over. Minus some drinking and new ink Roy had been well behaved while making his way through the busy schedule Pride had thrown at him. It occurred to him after several days of growing clarity that his intoxicated trip to the tattoo parlor had been less of a rebellious gesture and more of a desperate attempt to feel like he had some control left. He knew now what Pride was capable of- death had been dealt to people before him, and he was somehow not his "real self" all thanks to Pride. It took much strength not to despair.

The evening of the fourteenth Roy is relieved to be accompanied by a single body guard to a dinnertime performance at one of the old fashioned clubs out in the city. A smaller crowd awaits him in the dimly lit dining area; someone had forked over a pretty penny to Pride requesting that Mustang show up there to sing the love songs from his album to set the mood for their date. Sitting up on a humble stage with an acoustic guitar in his lap while his body guard is off taking care of unexpected car troubles leaves him feeling relief he hasn't had in what seems like ages.

"This one goes out to a very special woman," he dares to dedicate his final song of the evening, laughing on the inside at the idea of sending the paparazzi chasing their tails trying to find someone he himself was still trying to figure out. The shy girl in the old house, the woman from the battlefield sitting quietly beside him, the woman on the street corner walking her dog who hasn't yet realized he's watching her from across the street with a fond smile. "Elizabeth, you know who you are." The audience, mostly made up of couples, chuckle softly and he begins to play.

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Roy forces his own smile. She had just confirmed what he suspected, and he is happy to hear it. But, and of course there is a but, his head starts to fill with countless desperate questions about who he is. Not all of them are nice. He knows they both fought as soldiers in a war; he doesn't expect a soldier's memories of battle to be at all pleasant but what troubles him most is when he started to remember it. His time being tortured and held in captivity by Lesedi just a couple weeks before had been what reminded him of Ishbal. Watching Lesedi torture the others while he was powerless to help them must have brought back Ishbal for a reason. This is your fault! she had hissed at him over and over during his conditioning.

It's too soon. He can't bring himself to speak of it or the torture, he can feel a lump grow in his throat when he tries to get himself to ask about it. Sorrow flashes across his face and is replaced by a more genuine smile. For now, there are other things to talk about.

"What did you name that dog again? It was something funny wasn't it?" he asks. "What I remember of him is amusing. He was softer as a pup. Very well disciplined." He gives her a pointed look. "And as friendly and loyal as any good dog." He sighs dramatically. "I've been both impressed by that dog, and so very jealous of all the loving attention he gets from you."

If there were any way to get rid of those memories, she'd do it. No. Actually, neither one of them would do so, it was a part of who they were and why they were doing everything they could to right the mess their country had become. But she'd do what she could to ease the memories for someone who hadn't fully recovered them.

"What's so funny about Black Hayate?" She's not half as annoyed at him for that as she could be--he'd never liked the name, but Roy wasn't the dog's owner was he? "And you shouldn't be," she can't help but offer, "he's better behaved, so of course he gets more attention."

"Black Hayate," Roy snickers and shakes his head at her with a big smirk. "Is he really that much more behaved? If I was a cute little dog I bet you'd pay just as much attention to me like that. Or more plausibly, I might behave better if you gave me some special attention sometimes."

He thinks the idea is hilarious now, oblivious to the baited questions and teasing he receives from their team back home. 'Hey Colonel. Bet you wish the Lieutenant would scratch your belly.' 'Does the Lieutenant ever put a collar or leash on you?' 'Ever get jealous that the dog gets to share a room with her?' among others; just a few of countless comments he has to look forward to remembering.

"Where is he?" Roy realizes. They're far from home, he knows that much. His head hasn't wrapped around the other planet or other technological time period detail yet but what he knows of Amestris does not feel Americana. "Did you bring him with you to Vista City?"

Unlike Roy, she remembers overhearing enough of those comments when no one realized she was around. It was part of dealing with a bunch of idiots in the military for the most part, but it was also telling how quickly he either shut them down or how suddenly the conversation stopped when she returned. Still, his making such remarks has her thankful for the low lights in the club, it hopefully covers up the embarrassed flush that colored her cheeks.

"Hayate never slacked off on his paperwork. And no, I left him at home." She hadn't been sure if they even had dogs on this planet. The idea of another planet had been enough of a problem to wrap her head around, worrying about her dog would have just compounded things. "I wasn't sure what kind of animals they had here."

"Really?" Roy pauses to consider the idea of questioning whether or not their were dogs in this area of Americana or Americana period. Dogs are everywhere, it's common knowledge, and he isn't doubting her intelligence. He squints and hesitates to say what he thinks next since it seems so very far fetched but then again so were so many things he had discovered lately.

"We're not from anywhere near Americana, are we? Or Terra." If she laughs he might be relieved more than embarrassed.

A waiter comes walking up to the table to check on the woman who had ordered wine before and Roy puts his shock on hold, smiling at the fellow. "I'll be taking care of the bill tonight," he announces. The waiter is more than happy to agree to the wishes of the artist of the night and Roy sends him away to bring more wine. Shortly after, the rest of the bottle is delivered to the table along with another glass.

Roy turns back to Riza and resumes his dumbfounded expression as if the server had never been there, though he does it while taking a sip of wine this time.

She hadn't planned on drinking anything else, but it was obvious this conversation was going to lead down paths she wasn't sure either of them wanted to touch on. The wine would help to a point, so she let the server refill her glass without a word.

Running a finger down the glass, she sighs, "No, this place is a long way from home. Both physically and ...everything else." There was no telling how much of this she could say and still have him believe her. "Not even Terra, but one of those stars in the sky. I don't know which one, however."

Roy takes a longer drink from his glass and stares into it for a moment, rubbing a hand over the lower half of his face. "Our home lacks some of the advanced technology here, doesn't it? I noticed the architecture of the buildings, the weapons on the battlefield, and the tools in the lab would all be considered old fashioned by a native of this country." Or world. World.

"It's funny. I shouldn't know how computers work or how it would be possible to travel between planets but I do. I'd be even more shocked by this revelation if I hadn't been force fed an education on Terra's sciences."

On that note, she must have worked hard to make sense of the technology here, and to have traveled between planets when hailing from a world that hadn't even reached the moon yet, her presence says even more than he thought at first.

"Thank you for coming for me, Riza," he says. He smiles painfully; a simple thank you seems like a pitiful response to what she had braved, everything he had said so far was pitiful in comparison for that matter. "And I couldn't even remember your name when we met in the library, even now there's still more I'm missing... I'm sorry I couldn't greet you and thank you like you deserved after your journey. For now all I know to say is thank you, and I want to remember you."

"I had to," the weight of her promise to follow him even into hell aside, there was no way she'd have left him on his own. It sounds dramatic to even think it, but there was no way she would have been able to continue living without him there. "And you don't have to say a thing." He never did, they always had a way of knowing what the other was thinking as long as they were paying attention.

He was right, though, there was so much he didn't recall yet and she had no idea where to even start. Or if she should. How much danger would it put them in?

"It'll come back to you, but I can answer any questions you have until then."

Where is the best place to start asking questions? He smiles to himself, thinking how the person he really is likely never imagined he'd be clueless about such basic things. "What is our country's name?" he might has well start calling it by its proper title if he had been some sort of solider.

"And... alchemy. That's what your father was teaching me, wasn't it? I've started remembering circles and instructions, rules and more chemical facts than I ever studied here- I mean. More than what Pride put into my head." Right. It was Pride, not a real childhood in Americana.

"I actually tried it in private. Just reshaping some metal." Many metals, especially the pure ones, made excellent beginning subjects in alchemy. "It was just a spoon, nothing fancy, but it worked."

"Amestris," it was the easiest place to start and would make more sense once everything else came back to him. "Like I said before, it's landlocked. Surrounded by the countries of Drachma to the north, Creta to the west, Aerugo to the south, and then to the east, we have a desert between us and the country of Xing." Along with the ancient city of Xerxes but that conversation can come later.

They were still working on fixing relationships with the other countries. After so many centuries of nothing but conflict between them, it was going to take a long time, especially as they couldn't just explain how or why Amestris came to be. So much bloodshed wouldn't be easy to forgive.

She almost corrects him on the whole Pride thing then remembers that's the name of the record label. Right. It looked like they'd never get away from that one in some form or another. "You could say Pride is responsible for a lot of things." There's no explanation there either, just a sad smile as she looks down at her drink.

"The science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter based on the law of equivalent exchange. This is alchemy, and yes, it's what you were studying under my father. He taught you everything you needed to for basic alchemy." And I gave you the rest. Riza stops short of saying it as she finishes up the wine in her glass. It was still a hard subject to talk about, even the one person who knew more about it than anyone else. Of course, she never expected to have to explain it all to Roy since he'd seen the worst of it personally.

"Amestris," he repeats under his breath. It's good to know the name of his country again though he has a feeling his relationship with it is somehow complicated. It's a heavy word, that seems to carry a great deal of meaning according to the emotions that stir in him.

He hates to have to ask and hesitates, he could remember the details by himself soon. Questions were already eating away at him since he first started to remember the war while Santiago had him locked up. He needs to know even just a little bit more for context so he can sort out what he saw in his memory.

"What about Ishval?"

Well, he's certainly going for the dark stuff straight away, isn't he? She'll give it to him, though, the same as she had for Edward when he asked.

"Ishaval is a region of Amestris. They were annexed a long time ago. There has always been some unrest between the Ishavalans and Amestris." Differences in religious beliefs, among other things, didn't help. And then there was Father's plan...

"Amestris had always been at war with someone, from the first day the country was created. We only recently discovered why, but...the last one was with our own people. With Ishval."

"It was a civil war then." He clasps his hands and lowers his head in thought. That little bit of information alone starts to shine a light on what he had experienced. At least if he regains his sense of the ugly truth he can hold it in his hands again and deal with it properly. "Thank you. That... helps."

He drinks some more wine and gives her a smile as he sets the glass down again. Alright. Take it step by step and for the moment, just be thankful she's here.

"I shouldn't have to ask you about these things or struggle to remember your real name." Stating the obvious, and an something with an obvious explanation but this next question sounds so very wrong without an apology of sorts.

"I hate to ask this but... Are we...?" Which word should he use? Married? Together? Lovers? His face starts to turn redder by the second.

She's quick to assure him that she doesn't mind, it's been an adventure of sorts after all. "It's not your fault. If anyone is to blame it would be those in charge of all of this." Not that she won't tease him about being kidnapped and her having to rescue him later; but still, none of this was his fault.

His question has her stumped for a moment as she tries to work out just what would have him blushing like that. It was a strange sight, to be honest, and so it took her longer than it should have to figure out that he was asking about their relationship. Of course, what was he supposed to think with the scattered memories he had. But, oh wasn't that the question of the night?

Riza starts and stops a few times before finally settling on, "It's complicated." Looking down at the table, she attempted to work out how to explain something she's not sure of herself. "We've known each other since you were my father's student. We've been together through the best and worst of times." That didn't really help did it? "You're more important to me than I can explain, Roy. But we're in the military and you're my commanding officer."

'It's complicated' can mean a lot of things, even something more affirmative, but it's not the type of answer he was hoping for, making it seem less like an open door and more like a 'no.' Roy laughs to try dismissing any disappointment or discomfort that might show on his face.

"I'm a military officer, what a stretch from a musician! I should have realized sooner. That's why I'm getting saluted by other soldiers so often in my dreams- in my memories. I must be one of the higher ranks too. What a strange choice of person to kidnap for musical performances. I'd be more useful as a political captive."

"I've gone and made an even bigger mess for you of my own free will too," he says, gesturing up towards to stage. "I'm sorry. You came all this way to do your job and I write an entire album about unprofessional feelings I might not have even told you about. For all I know I'm more like family in your eyes or I'm forgetting your significant other." He doesn't meet her eyes, he can't just yet. If she weren't next to him now he'd be rubbing his face and groaning. Why had he let himself get so caught up in an idealistic fantasy about their relationship? Jecht had been right about going too far.

Oh no. The tattoo. Jecht had warned him about that and he had gone and done it anyway. Roy's smile starts to dim as the terrible realization hits him.

If he'd been looking, he'd have noticed just how difficult the situation was to even describe. After all, she'd meant it when she'd said he was important to her. But that couldn't convey just what she meant, like how far she was willing to go for him, or long she intended to live without him. She couldn't really say all of that either could she because without all of his memories he would never understand.

"I'm not here because it's my job." She would have come after him no matter what. She'd made a promise that had more to do with her faith in him than anything else. She stayed because she wanted to. She was here because he was. It really was that simple and yet...

"You don't remember enough yet or you'd know that." Along with the fact that there was no one else in her life. There wasn't room for anyone else.

And then he starts fading in front of her, was it something else he remembered or worse? "What's wrong?"

Riza's words reach him but get twisted to be a signal he's in the 'friendzone.' Had he been in a more optimistic mood he might have kept in mind that he has much to remember still or that the fact she had come for him personally and not for a job meant an awful lot. He might have even asked her for more clarification, to know for sure if anything he felt was mutual. Apparently Roy is busy replaying his band mate's warnings the night he had gotten the tattoo instead.

He takes a deep breath and forces his posture upright again. He'll be better off groaning and expressing his pain over being 'shot down' while alone. Doesn't this woman who traveled light years to save him deserve the honesty and strength of a commanding officer?

Roy looks into her eyes again, under the impression he looks calm and collected, though in reality he's unnaturally stiff and keeps holding his breath between words. It's a sight often seen after the men on the team at home had been teasing him relentlessly about something for an extended period.

"It's more than just the album. I made an unfortunate decision while I was intoxicated, desiring to express my... inappropriate feelings." He tries to roll up his sleeve but he's wearing a nice taylored shirt, so with another deep breath and a look of determination he glances around the restaurant to make sure nobody is looking in their direction. He then proceeds to cast off his vest and start unbuttoning the top half of his shirt buttons.

She knows that looks well, has been the cause of it more than once, but she has no idea what specifically happened this time. His explanation did very little to help either. She perfectly understood what he meant by intoxicated but expressing his feelings?

He should be happy with the fact that she doesn't freak out when he starts removing his shirt in front of her. For better or worse, she's seen him shirtless more times than necessary, between forcing him to dress for meetings or when injured. "What did you do?"

Roy doesn't bother explaining with words, the tattoo itself says it all. He pulls his shirt collar down and turns his body to show her his revealed upper left arm. There it is not far below his shoulder; to be fair it's a nice tattoo. The artist he had paid a visit that intoxicated evening was one of the city's best and she had done work on famous stars before. It's like a black and white ink illustration Riza would find in books at home: a few flowers that had appeared on the cover of his album, ones with meanings that he associates with her, framed by a circle that looks more like what an alchemist would draw. At the bottom ELIZABETH is written, plain to see.

Roy hangs his head in defeat. "I'm sorry," he says again. "This might be even worse than the love songs. If I had known I never-" Would have been so direct or attempt to be so affectionate? Or do what he had done which was basically shout his love for her from the rooftops in the form of music that had been downloaded by thousands of strangers?

"I would have kept my feelings to myself."

Most of Riza's experiences with tattoos came from all the wrong sources: her father, Kimblee, even the homunculi. They're etching into her memories as death or pain. To see something so different, it was a touching change, to say the least. "Oh Roy, it's..."

Thankfully not an alchemy array.

It's beautiful honestly, there are clues that he had some semblance of memory when it was designed, and even if the name is wrong, it's flattering. "It's very nice, but you shouldn't have. I would never have wanted you to go through that." Or this.

The emotions have always been there, she knows this, they've both known, but other things have to be taken care of first. If only she could have gone along with what he'd thought he knew, but the truth will out--he would have realized it sooner or later. She reaches out and traces over one of the lines, still not completely convinced he did something so uncharacteristic. But then, this whole thing was out of character for all of them as far as she could tell.

"What do they mean?" She knows him well enough to know there's more to it than just a pretty picture.

Roy chuckles hesitantly. "I wanted to do it. The alcohol didn't help my judgement but I wanted to." He won't get into the desperation he was feeling to take control of his body and mind after discovering how Pride was manipulating him, that's a conversation for another time. "I'm guessing this is unlike my usual self? I don't know if body art is fitting for the person I ought to be." The stereotypical armed forces tattoo was devoted to a division and rarely involved flowers.

He goes quiet again and watches her expression curiously as she examines the art closer. He had just been questioning his decision to express his feelings for her moment ago when she broke the news to him but the way she traces a finger over the design makes him realize he had foolishly jumped to conclusions a second time. It's complicated. Indeed.

"Devotion, faithfulness, and magnificent beauty," he answers, still watching her expression.

It didn't fit the public image he usually kept up. The idea of Roy Mustang settling on one of the many women he was known to be seeing regularly would be hard to believe. Of course, those who knew the truth wouldn't be so surprised, not even by the name--Elizabeth was a particular favorite. She's just glad he doesn't strip when he's using his alchemy, unlike a certain Major, so it won't be too hard to keep out of the public eye.

It takes her a moment to meet his eyes, but she looks up and offers him a soft smile. "I think it's very you." Putting his emotions out there for those who'd know to see, the meaning of the flowers, all of it, even if the general idea of a tattoo was a stretch all things considered. But he doesn't remember that.

"I guess I'm just surprised. It's very specific and for reasons you have a bit of a reputation." One that was important before but was it really necessary now? Riza's not sure.

Hopefully Major Armstrong wouldn't pressure Mustang to strip with him. It hadn't happened yet but one had to wonder if the day would come eventually. Armstrong would be confused as to why Roy never shared his own muscles with the world if he knew about those abs.

Warmth spreads through his chest and his confidence grows again when they lock eyes and she smiles. This was the one person he was hoping would approve of the art on his arm. It takes him a moment then he remembers the sound of clinking glasses and silverware and soft murmurs around them. He quickly pulls his collar back up and starts buttoning up.

"I have a reputation?" he questions. He understands the very specific dedication of the tattoo to his subordinate could cause trouble but it only would if he started showing it off. "A military reputation?" His best guess after just learning that he's an officer.

"You have one of those, but it's a different one I was thinking about." It was odd how both were possible. Then again, it was surprising how no one thought they didn't mesh as if they expected the public persona he presented to be just how the great war hero should act.

"One of the things you learned during the war in Ishaval was how little our government cared about its people. Not the civilians and certainly not the military. We were all just tools to be used until discarded." She frowns at the memory. It had been a hard lesson, but it gave way to so much more.

"You made plans to change the way things were run; however, to do that, we had to make sure no one suspected anything. Part of that included a public image that paints you mostly as a lazy, womanizing, idiot." There's a slight wince when she tells him that. It's a needed but extremely annoying front to have to deal with. "All of the women were in on it as well. They worked for your foster mother, so you weren't actually leaving a trail of broken hearts around the country no matter what the local gossips and newspapers thought."

Roy has to laugh. It's not the front he would have expected to choose but he must have had his reasons. Another reason things are complicated between them, isn't it?

"That is to say my real self is better at creating a reputation typical of a rock star than I, the rock star, have been doing. My manager would be disappointed if he knew I wasn't applying myself as much as I really can."

As if Roy would put in all that effort when his passion for becoming a superstar has faded so much. He'd rather spend the day reading about chemistry and physics on this planet.

He touches his upper arm where the tattoo is hidden again under his shirt. "If the name or even the entire tattoo would cause trouble in those plans, I can get rid of it. Better to do it sooner than later if that's the case so I can stick Pride with the-" He drifts off as he speaks. "...Laser Removal bill.."

Quick images shoot through his mind like a slide show. Riza had a tattoo but then he had- "What did I do?" His hand drops to his lap as his expression starts to turn for the worse. "I hurt you."

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