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Exotic/ɪɡˈzɒtɪk/ adjective- of foreign origin or character; not native; having a strange or bizarre allure, beauty, or quality.
Ochinstan, a small but flourishing country, was located southeast of Amestris, tucked between the great nations of Xing and Aerugo. The harsh desert that had once been a part of the prosperous empire of ancient Xerxes formed the little country’s northern border, and it had long been well-known as an integral hub of international trade. Trade which Amestris had become deeply interested in only recently, as it sought to establish peaceful relationships with all of its neighbors.
As the only female in the group of Amestrian delegates, Lieutenant Hawkeye knew that she would be subjected to more than her fair share of scrutiny. She also knew that she would be obliged to alter her personal appearance if she wanted to participate in the negotiations at all, which was faintly irritating.
But they’d agreed to adhere to Ochinstani customs as a condition of their travel arrangements, which meant that Hawkeye’s usual uniform wasn’t an option. Women in Ochinstan dressed in long sweeping gowns, skirts or robes—pants were considered indecent, and the legs were absolutely not to be shown in public.
Unmarried women also wore veils across the lower half of their faces and over their dark shining hair, ostensibly for the sake of feminine modesty. (Although Hawkeye had immediately noticed that the veils were mostly of translucent gauzy materials, and seemed designed to excite interest rather than to actually conceal a woman’s face from the impure gaze of any man not her husband or direct relation.)
And so upon their arrival, the Ochinstani officials sent to greet them had promptly whisked Lieutenant Hawkeye away from the rest of her party and placed her in the care of a cadre of female servants. Alarm quickly melted into amusement when the other Amestrian delegates had realized that the women were loudly fussing over the state of Hawkeye’s hair and clothing.
The young women led her into a slightly smaller tent than the one that had been prepared for her countrymen. Once inside, they helped a distinctly uncomfortable Hawkeye bathe, chattering to her in broken Amestrian as they scrubbed the dust and sweat of her travels away, seeming not to notice her embarrassment. As soon as they’d patted her dry and massaged scented oils into her skin, they placed the disconcerted foreigner before a trio of mirrors and proceeded to present her with dozens upon dozens of traditional Ochinstani costumes.
After trying a number of them on (and admittedly, beginning to rather enjoy the candid exclamations of admiration from the young women assisting her), Hawkeye settled on a soft blue and white outfit that seemed a bit less ostentatious than the others. It really did look well on her, and she couldn’t deny a slight feeling of self-satisfaction as she examined her reflection with a critical eye.
Although she would always prefer to wear trousers on duty, the thin silk and chiffon-like fabric of the outfit would be easy enough to tear if an emergency arose and she needed to move more freely. And the billowing folds of fabric flowing about her legs would allow her to conceal the weapons she normally wore openly. Then there was the added bonus that the fabric was far lighter than the woolen Amestrian uniform, which made the blazing sun much more tolerable.
When she emerged from the tent at last, Hawkeye was greeted by several enthusiastic wolf-whistles.
She’d expected some sort of obnoxious reaction to the exotic new outfit, and she was actually a little bit flattered by their obvious approval. But still, she couldn’t have her men taking liberties with a superior officer or allow them to set a precedent of commenting on her clothing. And so, with her very best ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ expression firmly in place, Hawkeye calmly reminded them that looks could be deceiving, and that she was in fact every bit as armed as usual.
Hawkeye couldn’t quite suppress her smile when she caught sight of her colonel’s face, though. It looked like he hadn’t decided whether to be pleased by her revealing outfit, or annoyed that everyone else was able to admire it as well.
Her male teammates had also been provided with the means to bathe (although they were spared the invasive presence of chattering attendants). And though they had also been offered traditional clothing, none of them had really wanted to change into the loose trousers and tunics that were the fashion for Ochinstani men. Each of them had decided to retain their uniforms, choosing dignity over comfort.
Except for the colonel. After Hawkeye emerged clad in her new outfit, Colonel Mustang suddenly declared that it would be rude to reject the hospitality of their hosts and excused himself to change. Hawkeye suspected the heat had changed his mind (and she was partially right).
And so she took her place at his side without even noticing how well they suited each other in their complimentary clothing.
Although their delegation had only just arrived in the small Sultanate of Ochinstan, there were endless greetings to be exchanged and traditional ceremonies to be adhered to before the trade negotiations could begin in earnest the following morning.
Colonel Mustang and his team made quite the impression on the nobility. He was as suave here as he was back home, and his flawless grace made up for the one or two minor stumbles of his men. The varied princes and viziers were indulgent and chose to smile benevolently when errors in speech or ceremony were made, rather than take offence.
The High Prince made much of his guests that first day, and complimented Lieutenant Hawkeye shamelessly on how becoming she looked in their southern dress. She bore it as gracefully as any high blooded princess, unaware that the light flush of embarrassment on her cheeks only enhanced her beauty. She even accepted the offer of more clothing as a gift after the prince insisted upon it three times, as per his country’s custom - to refuse a fourth time would be rude, and to accept any earlier would be considered grasping and greedy.
Afterwards, they took their time walking back to their encampment, winding through the city and taking in the local color on their way back. The men were wilting, and they all sheepishly agreed to wear the tunics the next day rather than suffer through another meeting in their dress blues. Giddy from the heat (and the ceremonial goblets of wine they had shared with their hosts) no one noticed the attention that Hawkeye had drawn.
In fact, none of them had even considered the danger she might be in. So later, when she decided to go for a stroll in the cool twilight, no one thought of offering to accompany her or of stopping her from going off on her own.
Riza meandered through a pretty garden, in what seemed to be a sort of public park. It was quite deserted at this time of the evening, for which she was grateful—a little bit of peace and quiet was just what she wanted after all the formalities of the day. Moving slowly through the cool green shadows, she breathed in the heady perfume of flowering vines growing wild near a large, clear pool of water. A fresh water spring, she remembered, that the town had once depended upon as the sole source of water before they’d begun building wells that drew from the same source. It was a lovely spot, and she lingered longer than she meant to.
It wasn’t until she heard twigs breaking on the path behind her that she even considered her position—an admittedly pretty, unprotected foreigner wandering alone in a country where women were practically considered property of their husbands and fathers.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she called out, hoping for the answering voice of one of her comrades. She was sorely disappointed to hear the deep, oily voice of a stranger instead.
“It is only this lowly servant of a great household. Pray forgive one who dares to approach you unannounced and unlooked for, O ethereal vision with a voice more melodious than a thousand nightingales,” the strange voice said.
Momentarily at a loss, Hawkeye recalled that similar flowery language, which sounded so odd to her ears, was often used by the ambassadors when they were being extremely polite. She tried to respond in a similar vein.
“I ask your pardon, nameless friend, if my presence here has caused any offence. Have I strayed where I ought not?” As she spoke, she saw three...no, five shadows moving to surround her. She carefully reached for the weapon concealed at the small of her back.
“Nay, for a beautiful woman is more welcome in a garden than a warm spring rain after a long winter drought, as her loveliness brings pleasure to all who have good fortune enough to meet her. But I am remiss. Your servant most humbly begs pardon for addressing you so abruptly, but he trusts that you will excuse him once you learn the grave importance of his errand. Are you or are you not the Lady Hawkeye, O shimmering star in the desert sky?"
“I am.” She supposed, anyway. Lady Hawkeye? That was a new one. “Upon what errand have you been sent, good sir? And how is it that you call me by my name and yet have not shown yourselves to me in the darkness?”
“Please excuse this humblest of servants, thrice honored lady of a noble household. You must place yourself in the tender care of myself and my brethren and follow where we lead you.”
“Is that so?” Hawkeye replied, bristling. “And if I am not inclined to follow?” She had stopped reaching for weapons the moment she realized how many of them surrounded her. If there were six of them, she’d likely be overpowered before she could disable them all.
“By your accent, O moonlit lily-of-the-valley, do I deduce correctly that you are a guest in our country?”
“Yes, this is true. I am a guest here,” she replied. No point in lying. Her pale skin and blonde hair were clearly visible in spite of the veil over her head.
“Ah. Then I should inform you, O lustrous pearl whose beauty illuminates even the darkest night, that our master has great influence with the ruler of this land. It would be very embarrassing for a fuss to be made over such a simple request as this, but rest assured he will smooth things over with your people and your government if it becomes necessary. Please, won’t you come with us quietly?”
“Am I allowed to know where it is you wish to lead me?” she said, deliberately ignoring the thinly veiled threat.
She could only assume that ‘great influence’ referred to rich coffers and that ‘smooth things over’ meant bribery. So even if she tried to fight them off, her hosts would likely be paid off to look the other way rather than come to her aid.
“Our master wishes to speak with you in the luxury of his own home, regarding matters of the deepest importance. He had asked that we accompany you thither once we had found you, O fair and fragile blossom. And we are loath to disobey.”
“May I return first to my own party and share with them this request of your master? I do not wish to cause any undue alarm with a sudden disappearance,” she tried next, using a thinly veiled warning of her own: I am not alone, and people will be looking for me.
“Once we have safely arrived at our destination, O wayward jewel of magnificent loveliness, a messenger shall be sent at once to apprise them of your whereabouts.”
Thinking quickly, Hawkeye couldn’t see any way around it. Though she was physically capable of defending herself and fighting her way free to return to her comrades, it was true that she was not a citizen of this country. She doubted that they would punish her in a criminal court, but if she wasn’t careful, her actions might derail the ongoing trade negotiations, which were extremely important for the future of a peaceful Amestris. Hopefully the boys would come to look for her sooner rather than later. And if worse came to worse, she could always break free when there were fewer guards surrounding her.
“If you will give me such assurance, then it would be most discourteous of me to refuse your master’s offer of hospitality any further,” she said softly. After all, they couldn’t know how many weapons she had, and no one was asking her to disarm. The six men materialized out of the darkness, positioned themselves around her, and quickly led her away.
Hawkeye was surprised when they did, in fact, lead her to a very well-populated area, and a very wealthy section of the city at that. She’d been expecting to be held hostage, in exchange for some sort of concession in their negotiations here. Perhaps these men were telling the truth after all? But then…why all the secrecy? Certainly, they were approaching a very grand mansion. And no one had treated her ill. Aside from the fact that she had not wanted to go with them in the first place, they were being quite polite and kind to her.
Hawkeye’s greatest regret was that she wouldn’t be able to see her commander’s reaction to the message informing him that she was being entertained by some mysterious stranger.
And indeed, when the messenger delivered his letter to Mustang, his whole party flew into an uproar. Their minder, frowning, assured them that the man who had sent the message was from a good family, and well known for being an honorable man. But he, too, was very upset that one of their delegates had been, in essence, kidnapped. The fury emanating from the handsome Colonel promised an international incident if the missing woman was not found at once and returned to the protection of her party.
Wringing his hands, the man offered to inform the High Prince of their dilemma, and rashly promised them any aid they should deem necessary. Mustang, visibly restraining his very great anger, asked him to inform the High Prince that they’d be paying a visit to one of his subjects. The man scurried off in terror as Mustang’s men strode into the city.
As shocked as they were to be greeted at the entrance of a grand estate, not a single one of the group was prepared for the sight that awaited them in the main chamber. Perched on an ornately carved throne of ivory, as though she belonged there, Lieutenant Hawkeye looked positively regal. They noticed immediately that she had changed into an even more elaborate costume than the ones their hosts had provided, complete with ropes of pearls and rubies draped around her neck and golden bracelets and anklets jingling cheerfully with her every movement.
Relying on Mustang’s quick comprehension and tact, Hawkeye rose and glided gracefully down the steps of her dais before throwing herself into his arms. Which, naturally, opened for her without hesitation.
“Brother,” she breathed against his neck. “I hope you weren’t terribly worried when I did not return as planned?”
“I was exceedingly worried, beloved sister,” he replied smoothly. Hawkeye smiled against his chest, pleased and proud that he’d caught on so easily.
Behind him, the others wiped their shock from their faces and bit their tongues. Let it not be said that Mustang’s men were slow on the uptake.
“My esteemed host sent a message as soon as he was able,” she explained, shifting to look up at him.
“I confess I hardly knew what to think when I received it. But you look well; may I assume you are unharmed?” At this last question, Mustang turned his eyes to the nobleman who had been kneeling at the foot of the throne Hawkeye had been sitting upon. “It seems we have much to discuss, my friend,” he said.
The nobleman rose gracefully to his feet, looking between them with an expression of doubt.
“This man is your elder brother, O paragon of perfection?”
“Indeed,” Hawkeye said, unflinchingly. She had turned in Mustang’s arms without moving away from him, so that she was tucked against his side protectively. His hand rested securely on her hip, and her arms were still around his neck. In spite of the difference in coloring, they had a similarity of bearing and expression born of the many years of close friendship between them, and they were obviously very comfortable in such an embrace.
“My sweet Riza is very dear to me, though we were born of different mothers,” Mustang said, truthfully enough. “I thank you for looking after her on my behalf, sir.”
“I was captivated by her beauty, most honored guest, and I could not rest easy when I saw that she had wandered away from her party,” the nobleman said benevolently, as though he had not practically kidnapped her. “Though, I am much surprised to find that she is neither so alone nor as friendless as she appeared to be. I was under the impression that the young lady was merely one of many soldiers under your command?”
Meaning that he thought he could whisk her away to seduce her, or worse, without facing any serious consequences. Any objections a superior officer might raise could presumably be swept under the rug with the right monetary compensation, in this man’s world.
Mustang bit back a scathing retort, remembering that they were not out of the woods yet.
“As you must have noticed, Riza is a very intelligent woman, and a most loyal subordinate,” Mustang said with a charming smile. “Any man in my position might find it desirable that none but his closest friends and allies should know the true nature of the relationship between him and a much-beloved sibling, lest the affection he held for her be used against him.”
This seemed to interest the nobleman greatly. He glanced at the others quickly.
“And these, your...servants? They are trustworthy men?”
“These are my comrades,” Mustang corrected firmly. “I trust them with my life. What’s more, I trust them with hers.”
“Ah, this is faith indeed,” the man agreed, apparently pleased. “It warms my heart to know that even in the barbarian countries of the North, there are men of such honor and courage as those.” His eyes flicked between them again. “I must confess, it pleases me to be able to meet you in person. I had hoped to discuss terms of a marriage treaty with your lovely sister.” Mustang’s grip on Hawkeye’s waist tightened: the only outward sign of his anger.
“This is not possible, I am afraid,” he replied smoothly, in a tone tinged with regret. “You see, my dearest one is already promised in marriage, and to someone I cannot afford to offend. She is the delight of his eyes and he would not willingly be parted from her. On any account.”
“I am deeply disappointed to find that it is so,” the other man said, casting another longing look at her. “Indeed, the man who is able to lay claim to such a rare and precious jewel is to be much envied.”
Turning again to Hawkeye, he said: “O unattainable sultana and fair thief of my heart, I pray that you would remember me fondly when once you are gone from my land. If ever you wish to dissolve the alliance with your redoubtable affianced, know that a warm welcome will always await you beneath this roof.”
“Many thanks, O kind and gracious host,” she replied, blushing slightly. “If you will allow me to change out of these rich clothes, we will at once take our leave and return to our hosts.”
“Indeed, no, my sweet and unattainable dream. You must not leave behind even a hair pin. Let them be remembrances of one whose heart you have captivated.”
“Oh, but I cannot accept such a princely gift,” she protested, gesturing to the costly jewels draped around her neck. He insisted twice more, until she was not able to refuse without deeply offending him. Resigned, she accepted, allowed him to kiss her hand, and suffered his servants to show her party out of the palace.
Mustang had not removed his hand from her waist, and shook his head at her when she looked up at him to speak.
“Not yet, they’re still following us,” he murmured in her ear. She smiled and tucked her arm in his, in a sisterly display of affection. The others wisely held their tongues as well, talking slightly too loudly about such frivolous things as they could call to their heads.
It wasn’t until their delegation was safely in their own camp on the grounds of the High Prince that the nobleman’s servants slipped away into the shadows and the Amestirans breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, everyone,” she said, keeping her voice low. “It was the only way I could think of to get out of there without a husband.”
“Seriously, though, your brother? We don’t even look remotely alike, Lieutenant,” Mustang grumbled.
“I didn’t have a lot of options, sir,” she said drily. “Havoc might have been a better choice in regards to superficial looks, but I didn’t want to give him a heart attack by throwing myself in his arms. I was more certain of your playing along,” she grinned mischievously as Havoc sputtered indignantly, but even he could see the truth of her words.
“Why did it have to be a relative, ma’am?” Fuery asked innocently. “Couldn’t you have just told them the truth?”
“I did, at first,” she replied. “But their customs are different here. It’s unheard of for an unmarried woman to travel without the protection of her male relatives. Since he already knew that I was not married, he assumed I must have a chaperone along with me.”
“Really? Even though you’re here as a delegate?” Fuery all but squeaked. “But—” Riza just smiled at him.
“You must remember how different their society is from Amestris. Here, women can hold any job they’d like only so long as their male relatives approve. If they travel outside of their homeland, they must be accompanied by a chaperone. They are not permitted to own land, or to vote, and they are not legally able to enter into a contract.”
“But he asked you to marry him. That’s a contract, right? Wouldn’t that be against his country’s own rules, then?”
“Well, not exactly. You see, he announced his intentions to enter into negotiations for my hand in marriage with my closest male relative, and asked for a name and address to write. So...”
“So, you offered him a brother.” Her colonel’s tone was amused, now.
“Well, my only other option would have been to claim you as my betrothed, but in that case he never would have let you into his palace. A fiancé can be bribed or killed, so he might have tried to pay you off first, and arranged for an ‘unfortunate accident’ to befall you if you chose not to accept. I was unwilling to wait while he tried it. And as custom dictates that he negotiate any contract of marriage with the male relative responsible for me, I improvised,” she shrugged.
The others laughed, and privately vowed not to let her out of their sight for the duration of their visit.
Colonel Mustang escorted Lieutenant Hawkeye back to her own small tent as the others set off to inform their host that their missing comrade had been safely restored.
“Do I need to post a guard outside to ensure no other over-eager suitors attempt to carry you off?” Mustang asked her, only half-joking.
“I think I’m safe now, sir. No one would dare try anything while I’m under the aegis of the High Prince,” she replied. “Interfering with any person under his protection would be an extremely serious insult. Regardless of how he felt personally about my predicament, he’d be obliged to take action to satisfy his honor.”
“Ah, I see,” Mustang said. And still they lingered together outside of the tent, unwilling to part just yet.
“Thank you again, for your help,” she said finally, in a soft voice.
“Of course,” he replied at once. “As if I would stand idly by while some spoiled, pampered noble tried to steal you away,” he scoffed.
“As if I wouldn’t have cheerfully maimed him for abducting me, were we not in the middle of diplomatic negotiations with his country’s leaders,” Hawkeye retorted. And then she smiled. “Don’t tell me you were jealous?”
“Who, me?” Mustang replied with false innocence. “Never, my dear sister. What reason would I have to be jealous?” he added, baring his teeth in a feral grin. Hawkeye grinned back.
“None whatsoever, sir.”