Prompt: Riza and Scar, spring
Requested by: Shiruba Neko
Author's Notes: Okay. So…Riza and Scar. Dude, you have no idea. I have no idea what's gonna happen. I'll give it a try, though.
He had noticed her the first time she raised those two guns at him and swung her leg beneath the feet of her commanding officer, the little excitable military officer with light yellow hair and deep amber eyes. If it hadn't been for her pallor and hair color, he would've pinned her for a woman he knew years earlier, when his homeland was still peaceful and times were not quite so bleak.
No matter how much he despised the military—even more how he despised that this woman devoted her life to protecting a murderer—he couldn't shake the memory of the devotion on her face. That was what held him so firmly. She knew her path was not necessarily the clearest, knew that she might have to kill to achieve her means, to protect her goal. And yet she continued.
That determination was what brought him to the park that particular Sunday afternoon.
She wasn't particularly difficult to trail. Following a trained military officer on duty would be like trying to catch a train while walking; but after keeping tabs on her for a few weeks he found that she spent her Sundays in the park with her small black-and-white dog. He knew for a fact that she was armed, because he had learned to trace the curves of her body and recognized the distinct lump a pistol made on her left thigh beneath her skirt.
Today she had taken a seat under a tree, tiredly tossing a ball for the dog to run and then return with. He watched her toss the blue ball once, and then twice, and then three times—over and over, until the dog seemed worn out and climbed into her lap. Somehow, he felt jealous of that little mutt who got to be in such close proximity to her. When she closed her eyes, scratching the dog's ears, was when he chose to make his move.
She turned suddenly when she felt weight settle on the bench beside her, and her eyes snapped open. The moment she recognized his face, he offered his hands in a sign of peace.
"I do not want anything with you of that nature," he declared slowly. Her amber eyes were wide with muted panic, as though she didn't believe him. And he couldn't bring himself to look away; those eyes were the same shade as his mother's; his grandmother's. Though his love lived in Amestris and was born and raised there, somehow he knew that wasn't the full story. It couldn't be.
"Why are you staring?"
She sounded angry when she finally spoke, and he swallowed. "Somebody wanted me to meet you," he replied quietly, trying to level the nerves in his voice. Her tension was radiating and starting to impact him. "There is a familiarity that I can't place a finger upon. You look like a woman I used to know."
"If you want some explanation then I'm afraid you will not be getting one. It is just a coincidence that—"
"Was it your mother or your father, Miss Hawkeye?"
Hawkeye visibly tensed, eyes narrowing violently. She contemplated her answer, before her gaze shifted to the cobblestones beneath their feet. "I am not Ishbalan, if that is what you are insinuating."
"No," he replied slowly. "I'm not insinuating that you are Ishbalan." He paused, tilting himself into her frame of vision. "But I cannot deny that I see traits of Ishbalan blood in your veins; the determination and honor and willingness to sacrifice for your cause. You do not need to tell me what connection it is that you have." He gingerly tapped her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his eyes. "I can see it in your eyes."
Final Author's Notes: Okay? So Scar….totally OOC? Probably. I wanted him to have an almost obsession with her. Borderline creepy; almost like he was beyond attraction to this obsession…thing. Well. I tried, at least. This one was tough, but I kinda like how it ended up considering the pairing I was given and that I'm a diehard Royai fan.