Fic - The Face of God
Mar. 20th, 2012 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessTitle -- The Face of God
Author--![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cornerofmadness
series -- manga/brotherhood
Disclaimer -- Arakawa owns them, I’m just borrowing.
Rating -- PG-13
Characters/Pairing -- Roy point of view, Scar, Miles, Riza & Olivier
Timeline/Spoilers -- post 108
Word Count -- 1692
Warning -- none
Summary -- Roy has a proposition for Scar
Author’s Note --It might be playing a little fast and loose with the timeline but hopefully not too badly. Thanks toevil_little_dog for the beta. This was written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fma_fic_contest’s ‘religious faith’ prompt and took second place. sonjajade did the lovely banner 
XXX
“Have a seat, sir.” Miles pushed a chair against Roy’s leg.
He ran his fingers along the hard, unyielding wood surface of the chair. Confident now of its dimensions, Roy sat, hoping it didn’t show on his face that his heart was thumping. He hated this blindness. He didn’t have the Elric brothers’ resolve to not use a Philosopher’s Stone to reverse it. If anything was left over from healing Havoc, Roy wanted it. Ed had waved him off when he tried to explain, saying ‘can’t lead the country if you can’t see it.’ Not this country, at any rate, which still wanted military brawn over brains. Roy listened but no one was saying anything. Miles was still behind him. He hadn’t heard the man move, but where was the man he had come to speak to? That was a man he didn’t want to be at a disadvantage around.
“You wanted to speak to me, Flame?” Scar’s deep rumble helped Roy to at least turn in the general direction.
“I wanted to talk to you and the major before you went back to the desert,” Roy said, faltering a bit. There was no easy way to have this talk, but he felt he needed to. “I don’t know what General Armstrong said to you, and I’m not asking you to tell me. I just wanted to add something to think about.”
“And you think I’m the man who needs to hear this?” Scar asked.
“You and Miles. I know Marcoh is going with you. I know that life isn’t going to be easy for any of you there. I don’t know how Miles, being military, will be accepted, in spite of his obvious heritage. Marcoh might not live, but he understands that,” Roy said. “I’m not unaware that my own life might be asked for in reparation down the road.”
“I have come to believe that nothing good will come of it,” Scar’s voice held a sliver of wonder at that. “I have killed many of your kind. It did nothing but drive me further from God. It will not heal my people.”
Roy nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. It might come as a surprise, but I have read your holy texts. My master insisted on a broad education. I know two of the hardest requests set before you are forgiveness and holding out a kind hand to those who have wronged you. I’m not foolish enough to expect forgiveness, but I know I am not the only alchemist who would like to help your people get back what they’ve lost. I just don’t know if that would be seen as insulting, as if we’re trying to ease our own conscience, or if it would be welcome.”
“I could only speak for myself. I’m sure if you asked a dozen of us, you’d get a dozen answers,” Scar replied after a moment’s thought and Roy expected as much. “But I am wondering, are you offering this because of your own guilt, or some belief in what awaits in the afterlife? We all nearly died. That tends to change a man.”
Roy flexed his healed but still hurting hands. “It’s not the first time any of us came that close to death, but you’re right. Some of it is guilt. It would be a lie to claim otherwise, but most of it is from a real desire to try and right the wrongs. I can’t say I’ve thought much about what awaits me after I die. Honestly, I’m sometimes a little jealous of those who have a strong belief in a God.”
The silence stretched out painfully, then Scar said, “I wouldn’t have thought that. I didn’t think alchemists had any use for God.”
“A lot of them don’t, and I have tried to have faith, when I was younger. I wanted to believe in the Xingese gods, the ones that were important to my mother, but I just didn’t have what it took to have faith. I question too many things,” Roy admitted uncomfortably. “I lost both my parents when I was four, you see. And there is a certain comfort in thinking that they are in a paradise rather than thinking all they are is moldering bones under the ground. I tried to believe, but it doesn’t come easily to me. I know souls exist, but I just never have been easy with the idea of God.” He scowled, considering the Gate. He might have to rethink a few things.
“It’s not always easy for me, either,” Scar said. “We all have questions.”
“My grandfather tried to share his culture with us,” Miles said. “But I never really had an upbringing within the temple. Mustang and I have had this talk before.”
“I didn’t realize you knew him,” Scar said.
“My team trained in Briggs. The major and I share a mixed heritage, which, sometimes, unfortunately, can be a point of contention for narrow-minded people,” Roy said, hoping to hell Scar wasn’t one of those ethnically pure minded people. Once again, his tongue was getting ahead of his brain. He still had a bad habit of that, no matter how many times he tried to keep it leashed. “It can also be a bonding point, not to mention Miles has a very good mind for chess.”
“He’s also taught me Go, a Xingese game of strategy that is even more difficult than chess. You might enjoy it, Scar,” Miles said.
“You can show me. Back to your original question, Flame, I can not guess how my people will receive the offer of help. You’re right. They may insist on war trials. I don’t know how strong my own voice will be. Not everyone agreed with the path I took,” Scar said. “But I can also tell them about the things you did to save this country, the sacrifices of those brothers, the repentance I’ve seen in Marcoh’s marred face. We might be foolish to waste such resources. I believe you are genuine in your offer. You might even be more selfless with your offer than the General is. I can bring your offer to the elders, but I do not want to hazard a guess as to their reaction.”
Roy smiled. This was the most he had ever heard the laconic - priest? Killer? What did he call Scar now? – say at any one time. “I can’t ask for more than that, thank you.”
“I lost my whole family at once, though I was an adult at the time. It warped my relationship with God as well,” Scar said, sounding somehow contemplative and sympathetic to Roy’s ears. “I am not sure I would ever have had one if I had lost them when I was as young as you.”
“My parents were murdered,” Roy said, wincing at the memory. He didn’t like to think about it. “I didn’t understand how that could happen. It didn’t sound like something the gods my mother told me about would have let happen.” He sighed. “Not that I remember much about my parents at all.”
The door banged open before anyone could say anything to that. “See, I knew he’d find his way in here. Mustang, what are you doing in my house?”
Roy stood up and turned toward the door. He walked toward it, or so he hoped. He didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Olivier, but with his luck he’d fall over and break a priceless family heirloom and have to hear about it for hours from Alex Louis. “Olivier, as I recall, you gave me this house. So, the question really is, what are you doing in my house, and are you still game for that dinner you agreed to?”
“Sir, should you be antagonizing the General while you still can’t see?” Hawkeye asked and Roy cringed. He should have known Olivier had been talking to someone.
“You have to live dangerously, Hawkeye. It’s half the fun,” he replied, knowing, once they were alone, she was going to kick him for flirting with Olivier. He might as well just keep up his flirtatious appearance. It was expected.
Hawkeye took his hand. “Marcoh is here. He’s ready for you.”
“He’s waiting in one of the upstairs rooms. He thought it would be a good idea for you to spend the night since you were already here,” Olivier said. “Or would you rather go to the hospital to have the work done?” From the tone of her voice, she let him know which she’d prefer.
“I think I’ll stay here. You can come play nursemaid later,” Roy smirked. He might as well get really kicked since he was already in so deep.
“One more word and you’re going to need a hospital,” Olivier growled.
“Still as sweet as those flowers I gave you, I see.”
Olivier snorted. “I threw those in the fire.”
“Yes, he’s always like this,” Miles said in a low tone either answering Scar’s questioning expression or a verbal one too soft for Roy to hear. “He has quite the reputation.”
“Not all of it earned,” Roy protested.
“Sir, let’s not keep Marcoh waiting.” Riza pinched his hand.
“Of course. Scar, Miles, thank you for listening to my proposal. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to actually see you before you go,” Roy said, turning back to them.
“Good luck, Mustang,” Miles said.
“And if we’re both lucky, Flame, this new path we’re on will one day let us see the face of God,” Scar said.
Roy didn’t really know what to say to that. He raised one scarred hand to the Ishablans. “That is a better end than I ever thought about. I hope I can be worthy of the idea.”
“Just get moving,” Olivier said, breaking the moment as she gave him a not-so-light shove toward the door.
Riza helped him keep his balance. Roy gave them a final wave and mentally prepared himself for the ordeal this surely would be to get his sight back. The face of God? He wondered if it would look different from the Gate of Truth. He hoped so.
Author--
cornerofmadnessseries -- manga/brotherhood
Disclaimer -- Arakawa owns them, I’m just borrowing.
Rating -- PG-13
Characters/Pairing -- Roy point of view, Scar, Miles, Riza & Olivier
Timeline/Spoilers -- post 108
Word Count -- 1692
Warning -- none
Summary -- Roy has a proposition for Scar
Author’s Note --It might be playing a little fast and loose with the timeline but hopefully not too badly. Thanks to
evil_little_dog for the beta. This was written for fma_fic_contest’s ‘religious faith’ prompt and took second place. sonjajade did the lovely banner 
XXX
“Have a seat, sir.” Miles pushed a chair against Roy’s leg.
He ran his fingers along the hard, unyielding wood surface of the chair. Confident now of its dimensions, Roy sat, hoping it didn’t show on his face that his heart was thumping. He hated this blindness. He didn’t have the Elric brothers’ resolve to not use a Philosopher’s Stone to reverse it. If anything was left over from healing Havoc, Roy wanted it. Ed had waved him off when he tried to explain, saying ‘can’t lead the country if you can’t see it.’ Not this country, at any rate, which still wanted military brawn over brains. Roy listened but no one was saying anything. Miles was still behind him. He hadn’t heard the man move, but where was the man he had come to speak to? That was a man he didn’t want to be at a disadvantage around.
“You wanted to speak to me, Flame?” Scar’s deep rumble helped Roy to at least turn in the general direction.
“I wanted to talk to you and the major before you went back to the desert,” Roy said, faltering a bit. There was no easy way to have this talk, but he felt he needed to. “I don’t know what General Armstrong said to you, and I’m not asking you to tell me. I just wanted to add something to think about.”
“And you think I’m the man who needs to hear this?” Scar asked.
“You and Miles. I know Marcoh is going with you. I know that life isn’t going to be easy for any of you there. I don’t know how Miles, being military, will be accepted, in spite of his obvious heritage. Marcoh might not live, but he understands that,” Roy said. “I’m not unaware that my own life might be asked for in reparation down the road.”
“I have come to believe that nothing good will come of it,” Scar’s voice held a sliver of wonder at that. “I have killed many of your kind. It did nothing but drive me further from God. It will not heal my people.”
Roy nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. It might come as a surprise, but I have read your holy texts. My master insisted on a broad education. I know two of the hardest requests set before you are forgiveness and holding out a kind hand to those who have wronged you. I’m not foolish enough to expect forgiveness, but I know I am not the only alchemist who would like to help your people get back what they’ve lost. I just don’t know if that would be seen as insulting, as if we’re trying to ease our own conscience, or if it would be welcome.”
“I could only speak for myself. I’m sure if you asked a dozen of us, you’d get a dozen answers,” Scar replied after a moment’s thought and Roy expected as much. “But I am wondering, are you offering this because of your own guilt, or some belief in what awaits in the afterlife? We all nearly died. That tends to change a man.”
Roy flexed his healed but still hurting hands. “It’s not the first time any of us came that close to death, but you’re right. Some of it is guilt. It would be a lie to claim otherwise, but most of it is from a real desire to try and right the wrongs. I can’t say I’ve thought much about what awaits me after I die. Honestly, I’m sometimes a little jealous of those who have a strong belief in a God.”
The silence stretched out painfully, then Scar said, “I wouldn’t have thought that. I didn’t think alchemists had any use for God.”
“A lot of them don’t, and I have tried to have faith, when I was younger. I wanted to believe in the Xingese gods, the ones that were important to my mother, but I just didn’t have what it took to have faith. I question too many things,” Roy admitted uncomfortably. “I lost both my parents when I was four, you see. And there is a certain comfort in thinking that they are in a paradise rather than thinking all they are is moldering bones under the ground. I tried to believe, but it doesn’t come easily to me. I know souls exist, but I just never have been easy with the idea of God.” He scowled, considering the Gate. He might have to rethink a few things.
“It’s not always easy for me, either,” Scar said. “We all have questions.”
“My grandfather tried to share his culture with us,” Miles said. “But I never really had an upbringing within the temple. Mustang and I have had this talk before.”
“I didn’t realize you knew him,” Scar said.
“My team trained in Briggs. The major and I share a mixed heritage, which, sometimes, unfortunately, can be a point of contention for narrow-minded people,” Roy said, hoping to hell Scar wasn’t one of those ethnically pure minded people. Once again, his tongue was getting ahead of his brain. He still had a bad habit of that, no matter how many times he tried to keep it leashed. “It can also be a bonding point, not to mention Miles has a very good mind for chess.”
“He’s also taught me Go, a Xingese game of strategy that is even more difficult than chess. You might enjoy it, Scar,” Miles said.
“You can show me. Back to your original question, Flame, I can not guess how my people will receive the offer of help. You’re right. They may insist on war trials. I don’t know how strong my own voice will be. Not everyone agreed with the path I took,” Scar said. “But I can also tell them about the things you did to save this country, the sacrifices of those brothers, the repentance I’ve seen in Marcoh’s marred face. We might be foolish to waste such resources. I believe you are genuine in your offer. You might even be more selfless with your offer than the General is. I can bring your offer to the elders, but I do not want to hazard a guess as to their reaction.”
Roy smiled. This was the most he had ever heard the laconic - priest? Killer? What did he call Scar now? – say at any one time. “I can’t ask for more than that, thank you.”
“I lost my whole family at once, though I was an adult at the time. It warped my relationship with God as well,” Scar said, sounding somehow contemplative and sympathetic to Roy’s ears. “I am not sure I would ever have had one if I had lost them when I was as young as you.”
“My parents were murdered,” Roy said, wincing at the memory. He didn’t like to think about it. “I didn’t understand how that could happen. It didn’t sound like something the gods my mother told me about would have let happen.” He sighed. “Not that I remember much about my parents at all.”
The door banged open before anyone could say anything to that. “See, I knew he’d find his way in here. Mustang, what are you doing in my house?”
Roy stood up and turned toward the door. He walked toward it, or so he hoped. He didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Olivier, but with his luck he’d fall over and break a priceless family heirloom and have to hear about it for hours from Alex Louis. “Olivier, as I recall, you gave me this house. So, the question really is, what are you doing in my house, and are you still game for that dinner you agreed to?”
“Sir, should you be antagonizing the General while you still can’t see?” Hawkeye asked and Roy cringed. He should have known Olivier had been talking to someone.
“You have to live dangerously, Hawkeye. It’s half the fun,” he replied, knowing, once they were alone, she was going to kick him for flirting with Olivier. He might as well just keep up his flirtatious appearance. It was expected.
Hawkeye took his hand. “Marcoh is here. He’s ready for you.”
“He’s waiting in one of the upstairs rooms. He thought it would be a good idea for you to spend the night since you were already here,” Olivier said. “Or would you rather go to the hospital to have the work done?” From the tone of her voice, she let him know which she’d prefer.
“I think I’ll stay here. You can come play nursemaid later,” Roy smirked. He might as well get really kicked since he was already in so deep.
“One more word and you’re going to need a hospital,” Olivier growled.
“Still as sweet as those flowers I gave you, I see.”
Olivier snorted. “I threw those in the fire.”
“Yes, he’s always like this,” Miles said in a low tone either answering Scar’s questioning expression or a verbal one too soft for Roy to hear. “He has quite the reputation.”
“Not all of it earned,” Roy protested.
“Sir, let’s not keep Marcoh waiting.” Riza pinched his hand.
“Of course. Scar, Miles, thank you for listening to my proposal. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to actually see you before you go,” Roy said, turning back to them.
“Good luck, Mustang,” Miles said.
“And if we’re both lucky, Flame, this new path we’re on will one day let us see the face of God,” Scar said.
Roy didn’t really know what to say to that. He raised one scarred hand to the Ishablans. “That is a better end than I ever thought about. I hope I can be worthy of the idea.”
“Just get moving,” Olivier said, breaking the moment as she gave him a not-so-light shove toward the door.
Riza helped him keep his balance. Roy gave them a final wave and mentally prepared himself for the ordeal this surely would be to get his sight back. The face of God? He wondered if it would look different from the Gate of Truth. He hoped so.
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Date: 2012-03-22 01:42 am (UTC)Roy likes to flirt with death.
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