Chapter Text
Roy has never imagined what this would feel like. He certainly entertained the importance of such an event, but he never thought it would be both relieving and terror inducing. Then again, Roy Mustang never imagined he would have a list of visitors intent on speaking with him one last time before his execution. He fancies that a few of the visitors are more likely to have a few grievances to settle than saying goodbye.
Roy would rather they all be of the first category. It is by far easier to stare down your own death when there is no one to cry or shout about how it isn’t fair. Too bad easy isn’t a word the universe added to those that can be used to describe Roy’s life.
Unfortunately Roy can take the hatred and the sneers as he recieves his judgement, but to be so heavily mourned is a burden he never considered he would carry to his grave.
The first visit is a bit of a shock to him. To see Scar darkening the doorway to his cell is quite surprising. Roy nods at the other man silently, perhaps he’s going to tell him that this is everything he deserves. Scar would not be wrong, Roy knows he deserves so much more. The air around them thickens with tension. Scar smells of the desert, it’s an aroma of dust and sweat. The mixture still chokes Roy’s lungs even all these years later. For a moment he breathes and it’s ash and human char that fills his nostrils. Shuddering, he breaks the reverie of silence and Scar speaks softly. “I honestly have no idea what to say,” the Ishvalan admits. There’s confusion and maybe a hint of regret in his red eyes.
“I guess that’s understandable,” Roy replies equally soft in tone. This isn’t the meeting of old enemies filled with passion and glory, but it isn’t a meeting of friends either.
What are they? To each other? The pair stands in direct contrast of each other. Mustang is pale, dark haired, with unreadable eyes. In him he carries the sins of the past, the judgement of an entire regime rests upon his shoulders.
Scar however, is rich in complexion, bright eyed, with fair hair. It is not shame or quilt that burdens his broad shoulders, but rather, the hope of his people’s future.
Uneasy silence stretches between them. “Are you at peace with this decision?” Scar asks finally.
The words are so very simple, and yet Roy feels as though he is winded. Because honestly? No. He isn’t at peace. A wave of remorse swells within him as he considers his own feelings for the first time since his trial began. Wordlessly he shakes his head.
“Such is the nature of regret,” Scar says wisely.
Roy looks at him sharply, of course if anyone besides Riza was going to understand what he feels, it would be this man here. The Ishvalan who in his grief sought vengeance on alchemists. Whose notorious rage once blinded him into almost killing a child who never even looked at an Ishvalan person wrong.
“It’s not enough,” Roy whispers. There is no sense in hiding his emotions from Scar now. The man came here to speak with him for some reason, might as well give him the respect he deserves and be straight with his former nemesis.
“The damage I did can’t be fixed. The lives I took, the pain I caused, all of it still outweighs my punishment. In fact it seems my penance is causing yet more people pain and suffering. I’ve begun to believe that’s all I know how to do.” His voice cracks with his confession. “Everyone I come across I hurt, my subordinates, my friends, my enemies. Doesn’t matter who or how, I just seem to destroy whatever I touch. Guess the title Flame Alchemist was an apt one. No one can touch a flame without getting burned.” His confession ends in a mirthless laugh. It’s a sound so self-deprecating even Scar winces.
“No matter what I’ve always been a monster, and I guess I’ll die a monster.”
“I won’t tell you you’re wrong. That’s not why I came here,” Scar replies. “But I will thank you,” he adds.
“Thank me?” Roy scoffs. “After what I did? Even though I knew it was wrong!”
“Thank you for taking responsibility for your transgressions against my people,” Scar clarifies. “I won’t lie, many of my people look forward to the day of your execution.”
“I deserve that,” Roy replies in a flat tone. It’s neither good nor bad in his eyes, just a byproduct of his own mistakes.
“I also want to thank you for restoring my people’s homeland. It means more to us than you will ever know.”
Roy shakes his head. “You don’t thank a man for undoing something he never should have done to begin with. Ishval neevr deserved to be decimated and razed. So please don’t thank me.”
Scar nods, he isn’t the type to deny a dying man his wishes. “Then at least allow me to offer a prayer for your soul to Ishvala. A prayer that he sees fit to consider your atonement sufficient.”
Roy is taken aback. It’s not the first time in his life he’s been at a loss for words, but there is a real chance it will be the last. A prayer for his soul? It isn’t his lack of belief in Scar’s religion that shocks him, but rather the fact that Scar himself would make such a request of him. Scar isn’t offering his forgiveness and quite frankly Roy doesn’t want it. But to ask his god to consider his soul atoned? It doesn’t matter that Roy has no faith in Ishvala or that he thinks such actions are pointless. It’s that Scar believes in them, and that he is offering him something of his culture, a culture he nearly erased. It’s a small token of reconciliation and Roy is awed by it.
Roy nods, “You may,” he says in awe.
Scar doesn’t bother hiding his surprise, the disbelief on his face is so pure Roy actually chuckles for real.
“I insulted your people enough in my youth, I won’t ever make that mistake again,” Roy sighs.
“Please sit,” Scar asks.
Roy drops onto the floor crossing his legs as he learned to do during the Ishval rebuild. Scar begins his prayer by placing a hand on Roy’s head. For a moment a cold chill runs through them both. Once this very same gesture was a threat to Roy’s life and Scar’s humanity. Now, though it is not meant to harm but to offer peace. What a strange day it is to see and Ishvalan offering a former state alchemist peace. And yet how fitting that this is his last interaction with Scar. Roy muses.
A small part of Roy, the dark and morbid side that has surfaced recently, almost wants the old Scar to kill him here and now. To spare him the pain of the visits to come. But that is cowardice, and though Roy loathes to admit it, he’s not above a little suicidality. Maybe that’s why he put himself on trial for war crimes. So his anguish can end now that he’s done what he could to fix Amestris. To let himself be executed, sparing himself the humiliation of taking his own life, but allowing himself to finally let go of his sordid history. In a sense there is selfishness in his execution.
Roy closes his eyes and tells himself he’s being stupid. He always yells at his men when they lost the will to fight, so why should he be allowed to gice up now?
Roy doesn’t understand the words Scar speaks, it’s an ancient holy language reserved for special occasions. But the words do offer some solace to his surprise. And when Scar finishes after what feels like forever, he sees a single tear slide down Roy Mustang’s cheek.
Before he leaves the cell he clasps Roy’s hand in his.
“Perhaps we will meet again under more favorable circumstances in the next life.”
Roy simply nods before his former enemy leaves his cell. He ponders that calm final encounter as the door shuts with a clank.