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Requiem	By : RiekaDeVolka Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Requiem
- 1
Title:
Requiem.

Character(s), Pairing(s): Roy Mustang/Scar.

Beta: None, all mistakes my own.

Rating: Hard R, light NC-17.

Genre: Romance, angst.

Warnings: Very light spoilers for the anime end.

Feedback: Very welcome, please!

Word Count: 1 134.

Summary: Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and may everlasting light
shine upon them.

Author's Notes: Done for snakecharmerfox, since I promised her Roy/Scar
smut. Hope you enjoy it. The actual Latin for the Requiem was taken from
wikipedia. I don�t intent to make anyone feel offended, nor to show any
disrespect to actual religious practices. It�s my first time writing this
pairing, so I�m quite giddy about it. Wish me luck. The translation for the
Latin can be found at the end of the story.

Requiem.

I. Requiem.

�Requiem
�ternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Te decet hymnus Deus, in
Sion, et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem. Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis
caro veniet. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.�

A heart was beating strong in his chest.

Unexpected, since he had not believed he would survive the forging of the
stone, not after the exhaustion of the journey and the tracing of the array.
Unwanted, even, as he felt his mission was complete and that he had no further
purpose to fulfill, he had accepted it and embraced death eagerly. Unnecessary,
when he understood the sheer abandon clustering around him, the cold among the
blazing sun, the unwelcome solicitude in a barren wasteland where nothing would
grow or live again.

Nevertheless, his pulse reminded him loud and clear that he was, in fact,
alive.

Scar allowed the scent of desolation to fill his lungs, fill them to the brim,
until he felt they would burst and drag him down like lead, and then he turned
and left, towards the blissful stillness of the endless dunes. The desert had
fathered him, sheltered him, now it would hide him and silence the screams that
still echoed in the mute ruins of his memories.

He had broken every oath, every vow, every law, every dogma he had ever
believed in, everything that had kept him going for so many years, for the sake
of giving those boys what they wanted the most.

Strangely enough, he didn�t regret it.

Walking over to a broken fountain, he washed his hands with the last of the
water there, feeling some relief to the abrasive rays of the sun. The marks on
his arm were gone, but he paid it no heed, rather concentrating the nothingness
around the ruins. Throwing the water over his head, he muttered a prayer for
the souls that had been taken, watching the wind raising a curtain of sand,
dunes dancing to their mourning song in the perpetual cycle that would never end.

War would never end.

Scar walked away, from the city, from his crimes, from his people, from his
memories, from the everything and the nothing that he left behind and that no
one would ever know about.

II. Dies Irae.

� Dies ir�, dies illa, dies tribulationis et
angusti�, dies calamitatis et miseri�, dies tenebrarum et caliginis, dies
nebul� et turbinis, dies tub� et clangoris super civitates munitas et super
angulos excelsos ."

He was being stupid.

He had always been a stupid man, now he could see that clearly. Always aiming
too high, pushing himself too far� it was obvious a rebound was just around the
corner, he had just refused to see it until it was too late.

He was being stupid, and he was going to die.

The sun glared down on him, making him feel as if it were butterfly wings that
scorched his back. The Flame Alchemist, indeed, he thought snidely, before
forcing his tired body to give another step. He was going to die there, in the
middle of nowhere, chasing a ghost of a man, an illusion to pay for his crimes.

He was being stupid, and he was angry.

So damn angry at everyone. At Ed, for leaving. At Al, for not
remembering. At Riza, for not wanting to give up. At Hughes, for dying. At
himself, for being a failure. He was angry, burning and twisting and wanting
everything to be right again. He hadn�t been able to protect them, not as he
should have, and now they were all scattered and alone.

He was being stupid�

�Roy Mustang,� The voice startled him, and he looked up to find the very man he
had been searching for, staring down at him disdainfully, �The Flame
Alchemist.�

Roy grimaced.

�Not really, no,� He gave Scar a very self-deprecating smile, �Not anymore,
anyways.�

Scar stared at him for a long moment, red eyes glinting strangely in the late
afternoon sun, and Roy had the strange realization that the white hair looked
almost golden under the light of dusk. Almost... Suddenly the Ishbalan began
walking away, steps slow and long as he remained silent and impassive in the
face of the fathomless desert around them. Roy thought about going back, to the
small cabin and the dried meals, the putrid water and the scent of carnage. He
began following without thinking about it, and when he figured it out, he was
too far away from camp to think about coming back. He could only move forward,
and hope he wasn't walking to his death.

For some reason, he found he didn't care.

III. Libera Me.

"Libera me, Domine, de morte �terna, in die
illa tremenda, quando coeli movendi sunt et terra. Dum veneris judicare s�culum
per ignem. Tremens factus sum ego et timeo, dum discussio venerit atque ventura
ira. Dies ir�, dies illa, calamitatis et miseri�, dies magna et amara valde. Requiem �ternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis.�

It was a unique sensation, being able to let go and believe, if only for a
second, that he was worth something. Feeling him inside him, stretching him.
Feeling him around him, sheltering him. It was strange, to be safe within the
arms of the man that had tried his damn hardest to see him dead. Maybe he was
already dead. Or he was dying. Or he had died and was dying all over again.

He was a stupid man, clenching his muscles with all his strength, trying to
capture the exact second when the pleasure shattered into a rain of sparks
behind his eyes. All he wanted was to be hold and cherished as he couldn�t be
anymore, because no one held or cherished failures; failures are thrown away
and forgotten � like him.

But Scar hadn�t forgotten, not the good things and not the bad things, not when
he drove into him and forced a moan and a screech from his throat with the same
ease with which he breathed. The fingers always strained his self control,
heating his body and grinding his restraint. When the taller man pressed
against him, slowly sinking into him in the most intimate way possible, Roy
understood the true meaning of �crumbling�.

He was a wreck, a shadow of past glories, a phoenix that wouldn�t rise from its
ashes, but he�s alive � stupidly alive � in the lair of the Alchemists� murderer.
He'd shared water, food and shelter, his body and his soul, with a man that
would have killed him long ago, had circumstances been different.

Roy was dead, had been dead since about forever, but Scar was alive. And in the
strange turn events that had landed them together, it all made perfect sense
somehow.

---

Translations.

�Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.
A hymn becometh thee, O God, in Zion, and unto thee a vow shall be repaid in
Jerusalem. Hear my prayer; unto thee all flesh shall come. Eternal rest grant
unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.�

�That day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a day of wasteness
and desolation, a day of darkness and gloominess, a day of clouds and thick
darkness, a day of the trumpet and alarm against the fenced cities, and against
the high towers.�

"Free me, Lord, from eternal death upon that terrible day when heaven and
earth shall be moved, when thou comest to judge the world with fire. I am
afraid and trembling, on account of the coming judgment and wrath. That day is
a day of wrath, of disaster and misery, a great and very bitter day. Grant them
eternal rest, O Lord, and may everlasting light shine upon them."
- 1
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Requiem