Foreword: Spoilerific up to manga chapter 62 and Brotherhood ep. 54. It won't make much sense if you don't know those, so stay away in that case and go watch Brotherhood instead :3

The story is told in third person, but it's all Riza's point of view only. Alluding to adult themes, but no explicit description. Can be easily missed :P

This is inspired by Winry's love epiphany in the train and my desire to write something from Hawkeye's POV again. Because she's awesome. It's actually a rewrite of a story of mine (haven't posted it) were Hawkeye retells her backstory fully, but I decided to skip most of it here.

Disclaimer: I do own FMA! It's there in my shelf ... well 12 volumes of it. I don't claim the rights for Fullmetal Alchemist, though. The characters weren't my idea sadly.

Her King

When she had fallen for him, she couldn't say.

Hawkeye glanced secretly over to the Colonel, averting her gaze from the book on her lap. He was ruffling his hair and cursing about not having enough time for his paperwork. She had told him to start right away, but he never listens, goofing around as soon she turns her back on him.

Now he had to work through midday break. And she had nothing to do, until he was done. Lieutenant Hawkeye was able to relax in her break, that was rare.

The book she read prompted her to let her thoughts go to unnecessary places, though. It was about young adults fleeing from their home town because of a brewing war. She normally was hesitant about war stories, they woke too many slumbering and painful memories. But this one had been a present. From someone who should understand her distaste of stories like that, so she gave it a shot.

The last paragraph stuck out to her like a sore thumb. The little group needed to separate having to flee from a few soldiers trying to capture them. The hero turned around before hurrying away in the opposite direction, taking the hand of the heroine in his hand:

"Jane! I knew. From the moment I saw you. I fell for you right there and then! I love you!"

"Oh Charles – what can I say, of course I love you, too! Since the dance – our very first, when you took my hand in yours, I-"

Hawkeye threw the book on her desk with a grunt. Seriously?

Romance novels where actually a guilty pleasure of hers. She loved them, but she wouldn't say it out loud as long she could help it. But this dialogue … was just so … so … fake.

The overblown confession aside, to minimize their feelings on a single meeting – that was too ridiculous.

Not that she discredited the concept of love on first sight in general, but … seriously?

From the point of view of the reader it had been clear as crystal that they fell for each other on their first meeting. It was just too obvious. The dramatic focus of their eyes locking - bwah.

She favored subtlety in her novels.

It's not like she could say her experiences in love could be taken as a general example, but still.

She glanced at her Colonel again – who was sweating severely and taking up a notch in the swearing department – then glanced at her watch (the one in the office ran 5 minutes early – her work, but didn't take much effect on the punctuality of her fellow officers). He still had 15 minutes left.

Why did she fall for a moron like that? Hawkeye sighed. Maybe opposites do attract after all.

She knew she loved him, even so she could only admit it to herself. Saying it aloud to anyone (but Hayate) would open a gate she had kept safe and shut for a long time.

Reading that scene, she wondered – since when? Was there this moment he changed from a simple man to a beloved being all surrounded with sparkly glitter and shine?

It hadn't been love at first sight, that she was sure of. They had been so young … still children. He only was fifteen if she recalled right. Ha, he's double as old now. That made her grin. He was so sensitive about his age.

When she had met him then, he was so very different. Naïve, oozing with innocence, a bit clumsy, with messy hair, but goodhearted to the very bone. She still remembered how he held out his hand when they first met. His first impression had been positive, but her heart hadn't fluttered when they shook hands for the first time. Admittedly, she found him attractive even back then and had been somewhat nervous, but no - far from love. Heck, she didn't even know what love was then, it had been an obscure concept to her.

Was it when she entrusted her father's secrets to him?

They had moved her, his idealistic beliefs. His wonderful dream. She wanted to believe in it, too. To believe in him.

The memory of showing him the secrets tattooed on her back made her cheeks heat up. The tattoo she hated so much. And no one else knew about.

It had been awkward, standing there in front of him, with her upper half exposed. She hadn't dared to look over her shoulder, once he started analyzing her father's work, copying it in a sketch book. They had been silent during the whole process. He had traced the lines on her back absentmindedly – his touch so light she barely had felt it … as if he had been afraid of hurting her.

That day she gave him the means to master the most powerful form of alchemy. She had thought she would give an opportunity, but she just passed along her burden. Hawkeye had realized that, when she saw him again – in Ishval.

The Lieutenant stood up from her desk to make some coffee. She shot her superior a warning glance while passing. He winced. Ten minutes left.

The shock of seeing him there on the battlefield, in her scope, after taking another life to save his, it had her paralyzed. She had felt like she wanted to throw up.

As a sniper she had taken enough lives – she could imagine how many the 'Flame Alchemist' was able to take equipped with her father's research. Her view form the sniping spots was good, sometimes she could see the fire for hours, while it devoured whole villages. Her work.

What she felt then was mainly guilt and horror. There was no place for love.

She could still remember the look on his face when he recognized the girl in front of him. His eyes had changed, the innocence killed and replaced by agony. 'Killer's eyes'. It's what he had called it.

They often sat together, with future Brigadier General Hughes, talking, drinking .. or sitting in silence.

It had been then they had crossed the professional border for the first time, searching for warmth in the surprisingly cold desert nights. Trying to comfort each other temporarily. Desperately reaching for a few moments that would let them feel alive again. They often cried, still entangled.

The first drops of coffee assembled in the empty can of the machine in front of her.

She had wanted to hate him. To yell at him for killing people with the knowledge that was supposed to be used as means of helping them. But the only one she could truly blame was herself. It had been her choices, hers alone that led to this. She had shared her father's research with him, she had decided to join the military, she was the one pulling the trigger on men defending their home.

The misery in his eyes spoke volumes about the guilt he felt himself.

They could have easily ended up hating each other. He could have easily ended up hating her. Hawkeye had been the one to burden him with this horrible flame alchemy. And when the war had finally ended, she even asked him to sear her back, to destroy her father's secrets, to burn the skin he had caressed. But he complied. And never blamed her for bringing so much anguish upon him.

He freed her. He severed the ties she had to alchemy and her father.

It had hurt, but nothing against the pain she had felt, when the alchemy canvas had been needled into her skin. Or the pain she felt knowing what harm the knowledge on her back had inflicted. Now it couldn't be encoded anymore, she had received the chance to become herself.

She hid the tattoo that blemished her back till this day as best as she could. Mainly to avoid uncomfortable questions. She didn't want anyone to know about it. Even if it meant strange looks for avoiding showers in headquarters.

He was the only one who knew why she always wore turtle neck shirts under her uniform. Or why she always chose a high neck when out of it. Sometimes she had the feeling as if his gaze lingered on her neck, remembering where the tattoo begins.

The Lieutenant turned the coffee machine off and filled two cups.

When she applied for a post under him it wasn't because she had fallen for him. She had decided to walk down the path she had chosen to the very end. If she had to dirty her hands in order to make a world the next generation could live in happily, so be it. As much she resented alchemy, the concept of equivalent exchange suited her just fine in this case.

Her superior had surprised her then. He didn't just make her his aide, he made her watch his back. Their promises came full circle.

To watch over him – to unsure his safety and his righteousness. If he ever stepped off his path, she would be the one putting a bullet through his head. She would. It would cost her everything, but she would.

Hawkeye walked over to the Colonel's desk and sat one of the cups down. Before she could open her mouth, he whined:

"Spare me. I know, I know! Only five minutes. I'll manage somehow." He frantically scribbled over the document in front of him, signing it a little off mark.

"... Thanks for the coffee." he added as if it was an afterthought. Without looking up he brought the cup to his lips. Cursing again when he noticed that it was still hot.

His Lieutenant shook her head with a deep sigh and trotted back to her seat.

They had been together for a long time. She was there watching his back every day, through all these years.

Considering their history and the responsibilities they held for each other, it wasn't a surprise she felt more for him then she should. It would be easier if she wouldn't.

She bet everything on him, on his success. If he ever was to fail it meant game over – there would be nothing left. She would be a spare – useless, without a purpose.

But the game was still running and she made sure to guard him, with all her means.

Lieutenant Hawkeye wasn't stupid, she had noticed her worry for his well being wasn't only of professional nature. And it didn't stop with their history either, which was loaded with bad memories. She genuinely cared for him.

The chair screeched a bit when she sat down. She put her cup next to her finished paperwork and picked up the book again, flipping back to page 101.

To pinpoint the moment she had fallen for him was impossible.

Sipping on her coffee she watched the Colonel throwing pieces of paper around. He seemed to look for a specific form.

She did fall for him long ago. That she knew.

Somewhere, sometime when she had worked alongside him?

No.

It was the whole time.
She hadn't been in love with him the whole time, but the entire time span was what made her love him.

She loved the innocent boy, who thought he could change the world.
He still existed in the grown man right in front of her.

She loved the Major, who's eyes were full of despair.
His eyes still carried the sadness from these days.

She loved the Colonel, who rarely showed how he truly felt.
His facades fooled many, but not her.

She loved this man, who completely drove her up the wall and still managed to be admirable.

She loved him.

Even so, he gave her such a stupid novel. He had worn a strange grin on his face when he handed it to her, so she expected something meaning to tease her, not just something utterly dull.

One of the characters had piqued her interest, though. 'Elizabeth'. But she didn't have any important scenes, since her sad backstory had been revealed.

Gulping the remains of her coffee down, she looked at her watch again.

Time's up.

She stood up. "Sir, the documents have to be delivered now."

He frantically scribbled on the last piece of paper lying in front of him unfinished. After curving out the g of 'Mustang' and thus finishing his signature, he threw his pen on his desk and pushed his chair back. Flinging his arms in the air he exclaimed victoriously: "Done!"

"Good, I will be delivering the documents then." Hawkeye strode over to examine his work.

Grinning like he just won a boxing championship, he picked up his mug and enjoyed his coffee.

"How do you like your book, Lieutenant?" he asked when she sorted the papers on his desk.

"It's a little shallow." the Lieutenant answered truthfully. She eyed him trying to read what was on his mind.

Her superior smiled sheepishly, but averted his gaze from her.

"Hmm, you shouldn't judge too soon. Once you're at this wonderful chapter in the mountains, you will come to like even the dull chapters in the beginning."

"Is that at the end, Sir?"

"No" he took another sip from the coffee. "the story truly begins there."

Notes & rant:

Thank you for reading! :)
Too corny? Too confusing? If you want to leave praise or criticism, please feel free to do so, I'm happy about both.

Also sorry if I messed up with the past tense. Past in the past is a betch to me :'o Hope it's not too bad.

Yeah, it's inspired by the chess theme – surprise! -, but I tried to not throw it down your throats and avoided to drop the title in the middle. Hawkeye approves of the 'subtlety'! …. *ducks*

There might follow a companion piece (as a second chapter), doing the same with Roy's POV. But I fear it to be too lame. I tend to just letting it rot atm, but just the queen without the king? Also the thing about the book would be left open :/ Meh.

This was supposed to be way more serious. But I never see what my brain fabricates until I type, huh? Not nearly as lighthearted as the two tiny stories I've posted here before, though.

Know Jane Bennett and Charles Bingley? :D Yes, it has an Elizabeth, too! I'm not dissing Jane Austen with this, I'm just lazy when it comes to create names, so I stole from her "Pride & Prejudice", which is a favorite of mine. I disclaim that, too :P Hawkeye isn't reading that btw.