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Ever since she was a child, Riza Hawkeye has seen red strings on people’s little fingers. As she grew older she realized that not all of them are red. Some of them are green, for platonic love. Some are yellow or blue or white. She doesn’t have all of the colors figured out, but the one she sees most often is red.
The red string of fate, her mother tells her.
"There’s an old myth that says the red string of fate ties us to our the person we’re destined to marry. Although perhaps, if you can see them, it’s less of a myth than I thought,” her mother, Annaliese, says one day after a young Riza inquires about it. Riza notices that her mother has a red string but it doesn’t lead to her father. Her mother does, however, have a blue string that is connected to Riza.
Berthold Hawkeye has a few different strings, but Riza never figures out what they mean. None of them lead to her anyway. Her father doesn’t love her. Of that much she is certain.
She has a red string of her own leading somewhere far out west. She dreams of visiting Central one day to figure out which direction it leads. She doesn’t know anything for sure, she just knows that somewhere out there, someone exists who she’s destined to love.
And then one day when she’s twelve, there’s a knock at the door. Riza opens the door and to her surprise, a stranger stands there before her, no more than sixteen. And there on his right pinky is a red string directly connected to hers. A blush rises in her cheeks.
“Can I help you?” she asks. She wonders if he can see the string, too. She can’t figure out what to do with her hands so she just holds them behind her back.
The boy looks confused. “Is this the home of Berthold Hawkeye?” He looks nervous, she thinks.
Riza immediately closes the door.
“Father, there’s someone at the door for you!” she shouts.
A disgruntled man enters the foyer and Riza’s heart pounds just a little bit harder, and she stands a little bit taller and as refined as a twelve year old can be.
“No shouting, child. I’m working. Who is it?” He opens the door to see for himself.
“Hi, I’m Roy Mustang. I presume you got my letter. I wanted to learn alchemy from you. I’ve read some of your research papers already and I must say, you’re doing a lot of impressive work.”
“I’m not taking any students, boy,” he growls.
Riza slowly walks away, her feet treading ever so lightly upon the floor. She watches them from the staircase as they argue. She watches the string on her finger move as he moves. The red string is a bit tangled, but still there. It’s undeniable: this boy is Riza’s future husband.
After weeks of begging her father, Berthold eventually accepts Roy as his apprentice. He teaches Roy, and the two form an undeniable bond. Riza notices a new string: a yellow one formed between father and Roy. Her father loves him. Riza hates him. She hates his stupid stuck up guts. She hates that she’s going to fall in love with him someday. And most of all she hates her father for loving Roy more than he loves her.
Still, it doesn’t keep her from watching some of their sessions, quietly. She knows how to move around unnoticed and she’s good at it. And one day, after her father leaves the room, Roy notices her.
“You can come on out now, he’s gone,” says Roy, not looking up from his work.
The door creaks, and Riza slowly steps through the doorway.
“How did you know I was here?”
Roy smiles. “You have a tell. You’re usually quiet enough that I can’t notice, but sometimes the floor creaks in a certain way. Why don’t you join our alchemy lessons? Mr. Hawkeye says you’re very bright for your age.”
Riza looks down. “Father says alchemy isn’t for girls.”
Roy turns to her and frowns. “That’s stupid, I know plenty of girls who want to be alchemists who’d be really good at it. I’m sure you’d be good at it, too.”
Riza can’t help but glow a bit at the compliment. Still, it’s sullied by the silent presence of her father, even just in word. She sees a green thread begin to form around her finger connecting to his. It’s faint, but there.
“You’re very kind, but outside of my father I have no other way to learn alchemy. No one else in town knows anything about alchemy and I don’t have the money to move.”
“How old are you, Riza?”
“I’ll be fifteen in the fall. How old are you?”
Roy thinks for a moment. “Seventeen.” He blushes. “I get distracted and forget sometimes.”
Riza can’t help but laugh, and Roy grins at her. He really isn’t so bad. Riza almost feels guilty for hating him a little. But maybe she’s misdirected her anger at Roy instead of her father.
“I am going to school. It gives me something to do besides take care of Father. I also like to draw.”
Roy perks up. “Can I see some of your drawings?”
“One second!” Riza races upstairs to her room and pulls out a sketchbook from a hidden drawer. She races back down to the study to show Roy, but her father has entered back into the study.
“Child, don’t disturb us,” he says, closing the study door. The bitter taste of bile rises in her throat. At this rate she’d never have any friends other than school friends.
One night when she is fifteen, her father knocks on her door.
“Riza,” He begins. Riza can’t decide if she’s terrified or thrilled at him using her name. “Would you like to be part of my research?”
That night, Riza cries alone in her bedroom, still in pain from the needles piercing her back. And her father will continue tomorrow night, too. Maybe he’ll let it heal first, maybe he won’t. It’s his life’s work, so Riza isn’t sure.
She hiccups from crying so much. She didn’t shed a tear when her father was working on her, but now that it’s dark and quiet, she lets herself cry.
There’s a knock at her door, and Riza freezes, her breath shallow and silent, trying not to be heard.
“Riza?” She sighs in relief. It’s Roy, not her father. “Are you okay?”
Riza stays on her bed, but does respond, “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He asks. She can hear his hand on the doorknob but then think better of it and leave it alone. He’s kind and respectful and Riza might have a crush on him but Roy is four years older than her and finishing his studies with her father this year. And she’s seventeen and nobody.
She walks over to the door and opens it just a crack, still almost hiding. “What do you want?”
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, keeping a respectful distance from her.
“No.” She sighs. “But thank you for trying to be a good friend, Roy. I do appreciate it. I wish I could talk about it I just. Can’t.” She isn’t lying. Her father made her swear never to speak about it to anyone or the consequences could be devastating for the world if it fell into the wrong hands. The weight of the world on her shoulders at only sixteen
Roy awkwardly pats her shoulder. “Whatever happened, you don’t deserve to feel so sad.”
Riza throws open the door and hugs him. “Thank you.” They stay like that for a moment before Riza pulls away. “If my father saw this he’d kill both of us. You’d best go to your own room, Roy. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Riza.”
Riza shuts the door and leans against it, avoiding the places on her back that are still sore, heart filled with equally confusing feelings. She looks at the red thread on her pinky and some of the knots unravel just a tiny bit.
He leaves that fall. And it’s another two years before she sees him again. In that time she finishes school and tends to her ailing father’s health. The tattoo of his research on her back is complete and healed by the time she sees him again.
But this time when he shows up at their doorstep, he arrives in uniform. A sinking feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. She paces in the kitchen, trying to busy herself while they speak in the study. Gone are the days of her sneaking around the house and listening to forbidden conversations. These days it’s just keep busy and keep her head down.
And then there are shouts. Riza expected as much but then she hears something to the effect of “We need to get you a doctor!” With that, Riza races to the study. By the time she opens the door, her father is already gone.
She and Roy are the only ones who attend the funeral. Except these days it’s no longer Roy and Riza. It’s “Miss Hawkeye” and “Captain Mustang.” And for a moment, Riza misses the days when they were awkward teenagers dancing around each other.
Ishval. By the time the war is over, Riza has formed dozens of bonds with people who are gone. But the red thread remains. Still, they remain.
By the time Riza stands at his side as Second Lieutenant and then First, she has begrudgingly accepted her own feelings and fate. She loves the Colonel. Her Colonel. And yet because of their line of work they could never truly be together. She doesn’t know if he feels that same way and she doesn’t need to. It doesn’t matter. Until it does.
“I hear Havoc and Catalina are dating these days. I’m almost surprised, they’re both such strong personalities,” says Mustang. “You’d think they’d butt heads.”
Riza grins. They have the red string of fate between them. They’ll be fine. “Oh, I think Rebecca could give him a run for his money, sir. I know her and she doesn’t put up with any nonsense.”
“Then why is she dating Havoc, of all people?”
“It’s beyond me, sir.” They share a smile. They’ve known each other so long they can communicate without talking. And many of their silent words boil down to this: comfort, home, warmth. That in itself is probably beyond what a normal relationship between a Colonel and Lieutenant should be, but they’ve never gotten in trouble. They’ve never done anything to get in trouble for it.
“Did I ever tell you about the time that I talked to Ed about Ishval and Winry? He spit his coffee out on Hayate.”
Roy places his hand on his chin and chuckles. “I knew you told him a bit about Ishval but I didn’t hear the rest of that story. Enlighten me, Lieutenant.”
Riza smiles fondly at the memory. “He returned the gun I gave him. He talked to me about how he couldn’t use it, how he felt trying to protect Winry and prevent her from shooting Scar. I told him I understood his desire to protect her because he loves her.”
“I think that was obvious to everyone else except them.”
“The threads of fate never lie.” It’s an innocent throwaway comment but Riza suddenly realizes that the Colonel has no idea what she sees when she focuses. He’s smart, he’s going to question it.
“What do you mean by that, Hawkeye?”
He used her surname. Not Lieutenant. That’s usually a sign of a more personal question. Riza frowns.
“The threads of fate, sir. That is, the red thread of fate. It’s an old myth that two people bound by a red string on their little finger are destined to get married, be soulmates, whatever you believe.”
“Do you believe in the threads of fate?” he asks, raising an eyebrow with a sly grin.
Riza swallows. “I can see them, sir. It’s how I’ve known Ed and Winry would eventually fall in love. And it’s why I’m supportive of Rebecca and Jean.”
Roy blinks. “Wait, they’re soulmates? Both couples? How long have you had this ability? How have you not told me about this before?”
Riza turns back to her work. “It’s never come up before. You never asked. Not everyone has a red string. Some people are happier without romantic love. But many people do.” Deep down, she knows that’s not the only reason. Because if he keeps asking questions, she will eventually tell him that they are connected by the strings of fate; not just red, but other colors that connected them body, mind, and soul. And all of the work she’s put into distancing her feelings from their job would be for nothing.
“Can I ask you a question, Hawkeye?” The air feels thick between them, heavy with unspoken words neither of them can quite identify.
Riza closes her eyes. “Go right ahead, sir.”
“Do you have a red string?”
She thought he would ask about himself. She didn’t expect him to ask about her own thread that leads directly to him, ten feet away in his office, now a perfectly straight and clear line between them.
“Yes.” She refuses to elaborate on that.
“Do you know where it leads?” He asks.
She cocks an eyebrow at him. “That’s more than one question, sir. Why are you so curious?”
“I…” he trails off as he looks at the clock. “Shit. We have a meeting we should have been at five minutes ago. Let’s go, Hawkeye. This conversation isn’t over.” He says that last sentence like he’s flirting and Riza feels both elated and anxious at the same time.
They walk silently to the meeting, both knowing that this discussion has been left unfinished, and that simply won’t do for them. Riza Hawkeye only has a single secret left from Roy Mustang, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep it.
She can’t focus at all during the meeting. She takes notes for Mustang since he will certainly misbehave during the meeting. It takes all she has in her not to speak with him in code, but they’re surrounded by other brilliant alchemists and military officers. Someone is sure to crack their code.
He teases her about it on the way back from the meeting.
“So do I have a red thread, too?”
She tries her damndest not to ignore him or kiss him right there in the hall. They enter his office and she sighs in relief, finally glad to be out of the hall and in private.
“Yes.”
He grins mischievously, childishly. “So do you know who mine is connected to? You never answered my earlier question, you know.”
Riza’s brow furrows. She makes sure the door is shut and locked. “Would you really like to know, sir, or are you just intent on being an ass about it today?” Her voice is slightly raised at him. She’s being unfair and she knows it. But giving him this information would be upsetting to everything they’ve worked on together.
Roy’s face lowers. “I’m sorry, Hawkeye. I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have pushed you beyond what you were comfortable sharing.”
Riza turns away from him. “You couldn’t have known, though. I know you were just teasing me, but the joke isn’t funny when I’m the punchline.”
She can practically feel the cogs in his mind turning rapidly, making the connections that she has subtly alluded to. There’s a heavy beat of silence between them.
“And if you’d really like to know, your red thread ends where mine begins.” She turns and salutes him. “Permission to go home early, sir? I have a bad headache.”
He stares at her dumbfounded for a moment before standing and saluting her back, half heartedly. “Permission granted, Lieutenant.” And then, with more sincerity and concern in his voice, “Please feel better soon, Hawkeye.”
Riza walks home. God, she feels like such an idiot. She had been harsher than necessary about things, to say the least. She takes Hayate for a walk when she gets home. She needs the air. She needs to think. She needs…Riza sighs. She needs to apologize to Mustang. He couldn’t have known about any of this.
She arrives home to find Mustang standing at her door, knocking softly but insistently.
“Come on, Hawkeye, I just want to talk.”
She stands there with her keys dangling in her hands, Hayate wagging his tail.
“We went for a walk. How long have you been here?”
Roy looks slightly sheepish. “Probably longer than I’d like to admit.” He pauses. “Look, can we talk? I feel bad. I just want to know how you’re doing.”
Riza lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Come inside, I’ll make us some coffee.” She opens the door and invites him in. She closes the door and then takes Hayate’s leash off. They stand there next to the kitchen, awkwardly trying not to stare at each other.
“I’m sorry,” they both say at once. Both of them laugh awkwardly.
“Look, I don’t blame you for being upset. I kept teasing you when it was clear you didn’t want to discuss it. And god, Hawkeye. I hold you in the highest regard. I left maybe a half hour after you did. Truth is, I was curious because I wanted it to be you. I wanted to know because I couldn’t bear the thought of it being anyone but you. I almost brought you flowers as a peace offering but then I second guessed if I should because I know you don’t even have a vase and if you were still mad at me you might hate me even more for crossing those lines.”
“I don’t hate you, Mustang. It’s the opposite, actually. I love you. Fully and deeply and madly. I’ve known I would love you since you first appeared on my father’s doorstep. And I do.” Her voice sounds both pained and free all at once.
Mustang smiles like a lovestruck child. “You love me? Why have you never said anything?” His hands tremble ever so slightly.
“Because I’ve spent years trying to not love you! Because I spent years both pushing you away and keeping you close. Because we wear the same uniform. I cannot bear to be the thing that ruins your career. I have long since accepted that I love you but cannot be with you. I can’t have you ! Every relationship I’ve ever had has failed because I’m too married to the job. And despite what my exes think, it really isn’t the job that I’m most devoted to. It’s you.”
At that, Roy just strides forward, cups her face in his hands, and kisses her. Finally . The kiss is passionate, years of tension between them boiling to the surface. After a few moments they part, both slightly breathless and dizzy.
Roy sets his forehead on hers. “I have wanted to do that for years,” he said. “I love you, Riza Hawkeye.”
Riza just stares blankly at him for a minute. “Wait, you love me?” She asks, a furious blush crawling up her neck and cheeks. “Why have you never told me this?” And then she thinks back on every tiny interaction they’ve ever had. He’s been telling her over and over for the past five years. “But, you did tell me, didn’t you?”
Roy lets go of her for a moment, trying not to overwhelm her. “I wanted my actions to say more than anything I could ever say. Besides, it was never exactly an easy thing to bring up.”
Riza laughs and lets herself lean in closer to Roy. “I know exactly what you mean. I always kept the red thread a secret simply because there’s never an appropriate time to say ‘hi, I’m your subordinate officer and also your soulmate.’ I almost told you once. At the cemetery before the Promised Day.”
Roy kisses her forehead. “When did you realize you loved me and that it wasn’t just the string?”
Riza hums as she rests her head on Roy’s chest. “I had a small crush on you when we were both teenagers, before you enlisted. You weren’t the sole reason I enlisted as well, but you were a reason. It was after Ishval when I realized it. You’d been working yourself to the bone and one day you confided in me: you were scared. You wanted to help people, but you were terrified. I’ve always known you were a good person, but that moment made me realize that for all your bravado, you really were just a man trying his best. And I fell in love.” She puts a hand on his chest. “What about you? When did you know?”
“It was a million tiny things. It was the way you looked at me when I’d done something good. The way you inspired me when I thought I’d lost hope. But the moment I knew? We’d pulled an all nighter working on a project and we still had more work to do. You stayed long after everyone else had gone home. I ordered you to go home but you refused. I got all my work done because of you. I found you fast asleep at your desk and draped your jacket over you. Maybe it was mine, I can’t quite remember. And it struck me then just how beautiful you are, how wonderful and dedicated, hard working, dependable, and stubborn you are. Maybe I didn’t realize it was love then, but I knew, deep down.”
They stand there holding each other for a while in silence. They kiss once more now that there are no more secrets.
“Now what?” asks Riza. “We can’t exactly tell people, and I refuse to leave my position and I’m sure you feel the same. And I don’t exactly think either of us would settle for not finding a way to be together.”
Roy kisses the tops of her hands very gently. “My love, we have successfully staged a coup and placed the blame on our enemies. We have both stared death in the face and lived. Not even the Gate of Truth itself can keep us apart. A few anti-fraternization laws are nothing compared to all of that.”
They get married in secret three years later. It takes some sneaking around and calling in a few favors, but they manage to hold their own ceremony with nothing but a dress, a tux, and a photograph of Maes Hughes. The paperwork itself is formally sealed by none other than General Olivier Armstrong. She wasn’t the obvious choice, but after many long discussions it became clear that she was the best choice. Olivier Armstrong can keep a secret. Everyone at Briggs has secrets. What’s one more to keep?
In a quiet space in the woods somewhere near Fort Briggs, Roy and Riza stand next to each other. The sky looks aflame with every color, every beauty imaginable. Olivier stands in front of them. She’s not one for ceremony, but this is an exception she’s willing to make. There are no rings, but instead they each get a small tattoo on the underside of their ring fingers: a small red thread tied in a knot. They speak very little for their vows. They’ve never needed many words to speak what they know: they love each other, and they would go to the ends of the earth for each other.
Under the Northern Lights they kiss: for the first time as husband and wife.