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Riza disliked the fake feathered mask that adorned her face. The dark brown feathers of her namesake obscured her bangs. In an uncharacteristic move, she was wearing her blond hair down around her shoulders instead of in her usual hawkstail. She knew she would be cold, so she was grateful for the coverage her locks offered her.
Brigadier General Grumman had insisted that everyone get dressed up for the event. Riza had been about to don her dress blues before the memo had come down that formal uniforms simply wouldn’t do. She had been dragged to nearly every shop in East City by Rebecca before she found something suitable. The dress was understated, a rich deep brown, with white fur trim around the neck and hem.
The mask had been harder to find, but Rebecca had taken her to her favorite boutique, and Riza had left with the matching mask. She would live up to her name, and was going to Grumman’s silly ball as a hawk.
She hadn’t even wanted to go. It was one of her precious nights off that matched up with Roy’s demanding schedule. They’d only seen each other once in the last month, and it had only been for a few stolen hours. Her only solace was that he was also being forced to attend Grumman’s silly soiree. Perhaps, given the nature of the party, they’d be able to find a few moments to themselves.
She wandered around the hall, accepting a flute of champagne from a waiter, and looked for Roy. Most of the officers from Eastern Command were there, dressed to the nines and hidden by masks. She was a bit intimidated by all the important men and women in the room, but perhaps for a few hours, she could pretend to be someone else.
The opulence and decadence alone was more than nearly a month’s paycheck, and she could hardly justify it. At every turn, there were more and more masks, more and more gowns, more and more suits. Combined with the champagne and… when had she eaten last? Her head was growing fuzzy, and she was near tears, overwhelmed by everything and everyone.
“And what is a beautiful young lady like yourself doing alone at such an event as this? Surely your date has only left for a moment?” Riza turned, confused by the voice she was hearing. There was no way it made any sense. But there, behind her, dressed in a sparkling white suit, with a gorgeous swan mask, was… but no, it couldn’t be. He was in prison.
“I’m… Waiting on someone. He said he’d meet me here.”
“Ah yes, the illustrious Colonel Mustang. Of course you’d be here with him. Tell me, is it business or pleasure tonight, Miss Sniper?”
Riza was frozen. She was trapped. Trapped with a man. He was supposed to be in jail. Arrested for crimes against superiors. He was being held in Central. This was East City. How was he here? What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say to him?
“Riza! There you are!” She turned again, and there was Roy. He was dressed in a chocolate brown suit, his face obscured by a dark mask meant to mimic a horse. She took his hand and was pulled away. When she glanced over her shoulder, the mysterious swan man was gone.
“Colonel,” she murmured.
“It’s Roy tonight. After all, no one knows who we are. The anonymity of the masks is a wonderful thing, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she murmured, taking another sip of her drink. She was not prepared for this. She hadn’t really expected a nice evening out, but she was utterly terrified now. She and Roy were still testing things. If someone realized, if someone outed them... His arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her close to his side.
“Relax, Riza. Tonight is just for fun. No one will remember anything tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied softly. She could only hope that the appearance of that Swan was a figment of her imagination, a manifestation of her fears. After all, he couldn’t really be here. She closed her eyes for a moment, and she could see him there, behind her eyes, grinning like the sadist he was. She shuddered, but if Roy noticed, he said nothing.
Roy smiled and pulled her out on to the dance floor, forcing Riza to leave all her worries behind just for a few moments. For tonight, nothing mattered except the two of them. They were the only two people in the world for this one moment. Hidden behind their masks, Riza felt free to simply be , at least for a few hours. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching her every move, her every misstep.
When the party finally ended, Roy walked her out to one of the waiting taxis. “I can still drive you home,” he offered.
“I don’t want people to see. Not… Not yet. Tonight was wonderful. It was good to just be able to be us.” She glanced over his shoulder, eyes scanning the crowd for the white suit, the elegant mask. The Swan wasn’t there.
“Well… If you’re sure…”
“Good night, Sir.”
He shut the door, and the taxi began to leave. Riza sank into the soft seats, ready to return home to her plain life, her simple existence. The dress would be lovingly hung up, placed into the closet. She would never wear it again, but… It would be nice to have.
“And did you have a lovely evening, Miss?”
Riza blinked. She could have sworn… But no, he hadn’t really been here. It was just her imagination. It couldn’t be his voice. Not here, in this taxi. It was just her and the driver.
“Wh-what did you say?”
“Did you have a good time?” The driver’s voice had changed, grown gruffer. He wasn’t wearing a suit, after all. She relaxed.
“Yes, I did. Thank you.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence. Riza thought of the lovely night she’d had with Roy, wrapped in his arms as they danced through the crowds effortlessly. Perhaps she would call him once she was sure he’d returned home. His voice would soothe her after the tricks her mind had played. After all, it could be anyone behind the mask.