Flower language and the Art of War — Cut for Length.

“The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.”
         —John Lyly’s ‘Euphues’ (1578)

Daisies — Innocence; Day Lilies — Coquetry, Perseverance.

At seventeen, Roy wades into the field behind the Hawkeye household. It’s almost sunset, and they’ve already eaten dinner, which should mean he should be using the last hours of daylight to study without wasting candles, but today means he’s outside, where the sun dips low and lights up the wild grass.

He finds Riza examining the flowers that grow in patches behind the house, slender fingers smoothing out the petal of a lily. The sun gleamed against her cropped blonde hair, and Roy finds himself staring. He’s noticed girls before, but this time it’s different. Riza’s just turned fifteen, but she’s pretty; probably the prettiest thing in the entire town. For a brief moment, Roy considers telling her she’s a flower, on the off chance that she’ll understand what he means.

She’s quiet under his gaze, and the fleeting thoughts are gone; his master’s daughter is pretty but they’re still young, and it’s not something he contemplates any further.

Instead, he grabs a daisy, plucking it from its stem, and hands it to her.

“Here,” He says. “It suits you.”

Riza gives him a funny look, her brown eyes dropping back to the wildflowers, before she tucks it neatly behind her ear. “I’m glad you didn’t pick the lilies.” She says, before she turns, and heads back for the house.

A week later, she mentions that her mother had planted the lilies.

Roy is grateful that he only handed her a daisy.

Sun Tzu said: The Art of War is of vital importance to the State.

He gets the tests from the Academy Entrance exam back before his eighteenth birthday. Civics, Military History, History, Ethics, Case Studies, Science, Maths; the letter is a list of his top scores, scores that not only qualify him to join the Academy, but have given him a very generous offering on his tuition.

Alchemists be thou for the people.

At the bottom of the letter, is the seal of the Fuhrer, the green lion rampant. In small script underneath, the words ‘Semper Fortis’ are printed. Always Brave.

Roy lets the acceptance letter and his test scores sit in between the pages of one of his alchemy texts for a week before he takes it back out again.

Si vis pacem, para bellum. He tells himself.

What he tells his Master is a different story.

Roy leaves for the Academy as soon as he’s eighteen, and he tells Riza he hopes to see her again someday. It’s a halfhearted apology, but he hopes she understands what he’s doing.

Riza’s always been very understanding.

Plum — Keep Your Promise; Sweet Pea — Departure, Delicate pleasures

The lines are being filled in. At eighteen, she’s taller, and more sure looking, her face less round and her figure older. Roy can’t help but notice these things; he’s always noticing things about people. He must have changed as well, after three years in the Military Academy, he feels taller, and more adult, the uniform encouraging to throw broad shoulders back with a confidence he hadn’t quite mastered before.

It doesn’t matter what sort of flowers they leave on her father’s grave. What matters is she turns, and tells him very seriously ‘Please don’t die’. He’s not planning on it, but he knows he could. Every man could die.  

He’s not going to, yet.

No, in fact he tells her about his dreams, and she listens, and something in his heart swells. She understands. Had he been younger, this would have solely been a ruse to understand what she’s keeping of Flame Alchemy, but now, it’s the truth, and he believes what he says. He’s a soldier whether or not he’s a state alchemist.

‘That dream, can I entrust my back to it?’

He spends as much time as possible deciphering her back, cracking the codes of the neat lines that skim her body from shoulder blade to the top of her narrow waist.

When he’s done, he explains he has another year of Academy work, where cadets are posted somewhere in the country, and trained on site. He’s not sure where he’ll end up, but he can guess it might be Eastern Command. Roy reminds Riza that she’s got the card for Military Command, and he packs more than reluctantly to leave for his posting.

He’s going to be a State Alchemist.

Roy puts a Plum blossom and a spray of Sweet Pea into the vase by the front door; because he’s coming back. He’s always coming back, and he likes to leave the place a little brighter than before. He gives Riza one last look, and a half-smile before he’s out the door, knowing he might send a few letters, but won’t really have the time for it.

But he’ll come back, and when he does, he’ll be a Major. Maybe a War Hero. With everything in his life, it seems like he can see the straight path to his goals and desires; he’ll be able to support her, and she’ll be older again, and they’ll slowly learn everything about their adult selves someday.

It seems like the easiest, and most direct way forwards. And Roy likes it.

Sun Tzu said: There are five ways of attacking with fire. The first is to burn soldiers in their camp; the second is to burn stores; the third is to burn baggage trains; the fourth is to burn arsenals and magazines; the fifth is to hurl dropping fire amongst the enemy.

Everything in Ishval is up in Flames.

Roy sees her there. And then he is up in Flames too.

Eventually there’s a moment where the gunfire has slowed long enough that it could almost be called quiet, and she doesn’t look him in the eye as she speaks.

“Plum. I had to look it up, in one of the old books.” Her eyes bore holes into the packed dirt and sand beneath her. “—Major, I hope you mean that.”

He does.

Fraxinella — Fire; Frankincense — Faithful heart

“I’ll follow you into hell, if you ask me to.”

He closes his eyes, and remembers the day he thought he’d be asking her something much different at this time.

When he opens them, he sees loyalty that he doesn’t deserve, but wants anyways.

Sun Tzu said: In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy’s country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good. So, too, it is better to recapture an army entire than to destroy it, to capture a regiment, a detachment or a company entire than to destroy them.

It always looks like promotions are just landing in his lap. Major to Lieutenant Colonel. Lieutenant Colonel to Colonel.

Roy keeps his bigger goals a secret, although Riza knows what he is doing. His team knows what he is doing.

If Roy never has to kill a man again to make things right, he’ll be happy.

As is stands, he’s not afraid to do it if he has to.

Lilac — First Emotions of Love

He turns around and realizes she’s right there at his back.

And Roy knows that he’s not in love with the idea so much as he’s in love with her.

This is them, grown up. The people they always would have been, and the woman he’s inevitably fallen in love with. Not the little girl who wore a daisy in her hair, but the woman who smells of gun polish and whose footsteps fall in behind his, never wavering.

She has his back, and can protect or shoot in an instant.

He would give her flowers, but this time, he’s not sure she’d understand.

Sun Tzu Said: So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.

It’s Bradley’s mistake, really. To think that Roy’s weakness is not strong.

But no matter how furious he is, or how afraid he’s become, he knows that Riza is not a weak point. He refuses to think of her that way.

Purple Columbine — Resolved to Win;Honey Flower (Melianthus) — Love Sweet and Secret; Iris — I have a Message for You

“I got kinda drunk,” He lies. “—And bought a car full of flowers.”

He wants to know she’s okay, wants to hear her voice on the other line, smooth and firm.

But he can hear her lying back to him, and he knows she’s not okay, because he’s not okay.

And being apart is wearing at him.

When he hangs up, Roy drives the flowers back to his apartment, and arranges the best ones. He knows that flower language is more precise than just throwing together the meanings he wants, but he doesn’t care, and at the end, he has a vase that he would’ve given Riza, full of Columbines, and Irises, and Honey Flowers.

Sun Tzu Said: Be subtle! Be subtle! and use your spies for every kind of business.

S-E-L-I-M-B-R-A-D-L-E-Y-I-S-A-H-O-M-U-N-C-U-L-U-S.

His pen drops.

Zinnia — Thoughts of absent friends

She’s about to say something, and it might very well be the most important thing she’s ever said, she might be telling him the one thing he’s wanted to hear for years now, but as he turns away from Maes Hughes’ grave, he knows, with a strong sense of conviction, that he can’t hear it just yet.

It’s time. The Coup is starting.

Sun Tzu Said: The natural formation of the country is the soldier’s best ally; but a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the forces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties, dangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general.

They take Radio Central and Mrs. Bradley.

Then they go deep below Central command, and Roy nearly loses himself.

But she’s there, and this adversary is not worth his humanity.

Primrose — I can’t live without you

“Lieutenant! Open your eyes!”

Panic.

Then a rush of pink, and Riza can breathe again.

There are no flowers, and he doesn’t care who sees him pull her into his arms because for a moment, this moment, he never wants to let go of her, and he buries his face into her hair because he’s sure it’s threatening to rain again.

I know that glare.

Sun Tzu Said: The general who advances without coveting fame and retreats without fearing disgrace; whose only thought is to protect his country and do good service for his sovereign, is the jewel of the kingdom.

When Knox walks in with Marcoh, Roy’s already decided that Grumman will take the lead of the country. But the blindly obvious response, the need to call Havoc first, brings a smile to Riza’s face that Roy cannot see but certainly imagines would be there.

Roy’s promoted to General, and when he can see again, he heads East, to Ishval.

Red Rose — Love.

“At some point, I realized I love you. And then I knew you loved me too.”

“How long did it take you?”

Roy looks down, embarrassed. “—Too long.”

“I have your back,” She says, pulling up on her toes and kissing him; warm and firm and lovingly. It’s their way of I love you, and he doesn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Life doesn’t let you plan the way from Point A to Point B, but Roy knows that journeys can be as important as destinations.