Wait! Don't be scared. I know what you're thinking: "FMA Fantasy AU, Antigone? No thank you."

I was a skeptic at first, too. But mebh can be very persuasive - she's the one that came up with this crazy, wonderful idea. She showed me the error of my ways. Go on, give it a try. Read away.

And! We'd appreciate reviews and comments. There is a lot more where this came from...

-o-o-o-

Riza peered down from the parapet, fingers curled on the stony ledge. She sucked a breath between her teeth. The height was dizzying - far too high for the old bedsheets-made-into-rope trick. It served her right, she supposed. That ogre looked unsavory from the start. She should have known he just wanted her for her... well... assets.

It all seemed quite harmless at first. Mustang's team was sent to investigate a series of highway robberies in the area surrounding Grafton Hill. They managed to track down a local group of thugs holed up in a series of caves that overlooked the road. They planned to flush out the thieves - a simple trick they used dozens of times in the past. Unfortunately, they ran into a bit of a snag.

A large ogre guarded the back entrance.

It was an uncommon sight to see one in cahoots with humans. Ogres were as a rule solitary creatures (their odor made it a necessity). The thieves must have bribed it with something. Ogres weren't the brightest of the enchanted creature ensemble, and the promise of a few shiny baubles was usually all it took to convince one to stand menacingly at a doorway. Ususally, they completely forgot about the deal and shambled away. Even Roy was surprised the thieves would choose such a distractible and untrustworthy guard. Unfortunately for the team, this one seemed more dedicated to its job than most. After nearly an hour of waiting, they all agreed they had to deal with the creature in order to move on with their work.

Riza was confident she could take the oaf. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen - or fought - before. She motioned the others away so they could take up their positions at the front of the cave. Mustang sent her a smug grin before he disappeared into the trees, happy to let her deal with the beast (and the inevitable stench). Ogres smelled bad enough on the outside, but their blood was enough to peel paint from walls.

It started out fine. Riza stole up behind the ogre, easily positioning herself on a cliff above, ready for a killing blow. Unfortunately, she didn't see the patch of mud until it was too late. Her foot slipped. It wouldn't have been a problem but for the mild expletive that escaped before she managed to regain her balance. Ogres might be stupid, but their ears were cunning as daggers. Before she knew it, Riza was enveloped in meaty hands and a meatier odor. The ogre swung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and tromped off to his towery hideaway, baubles be damned.

And now here she was, swathed in silk, held hostage in a tower. It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the corset. For the life of her, she didn't quite remember how the oaf managed to lace up the delicate backing. She remembered the sound of his hot, hasty breaths and the feel of rough fingers against her neck. She shuddered. How the hell did this happen? She swore she would never dress this way; that she would never be... that woman. Mustang was going to have a field day with this one.

Speaking of...

She heard a loud commotion from the hall outside: the sounds of clashing armor and the low, guttural grunts of creatures dying at the end of a sword. It was him. Mustang. She knew he'd come for her. Hawkeye's heart fluttered. Like a damsel. In dist - Damn.

The fight intensified and keening screams rose from the din. Then silence. It was still for a long minute before she heard a loud scraping sound, then a low thud. The door shuddered. A pause, then the door shook again. On the third blow, it fell open, along with her commanding officer. Mustang tumbled to on the floor, completely limp, without raising a hand to brace himself. He let out a tiny grunt as his face met tile.

"My hero..." Riza muttered sarcastically. She reached down to grip her commander under the armpits and heave him from the doorstep.

Roy moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked for a long time, seemingly confused by Riza's rather updone appearance. "L- Lieutenant?" His eyes twinkled mischievously and a small smirk teased at the edge of his bloodied lips.

"Not. A. Word." she clipped. She ripped off a silken sleeve to wrap it around a nasty scalp wound that dripped blood down his forehead. "Concussion," she muttered. "Great. As if you aren't hard enough to deal with as it is."

Mustang whimpered as Riza tightened the makeshift bandage around his head. "You- you..." he slurred. "You're a woman, Hawkeye."

"Yes, sir." Riza grunted slightly as she draped his arm over her shoulder and lugged him to his feet.

"But," he frowned, befuddled. "You're not usually a woman."

Riza resisted the urge to let her commanding officer drop to the floor. Her womanhood (or apparent lack thereof) was a topic for another time. She wrapped her arm about his waist and began to half walk, half drag Roy towards the door. She wasn't looking forward to the long walk down the spiraling staircase. With her luck, an ogre waited at the bottom.

Damsel in distress, her ass.

-o-o-o-

The journey was far worse than she imagined. It turned out the tower housed much more than just an ogre. Riza dealt with the harpies easily enough, but the witch on the sixth level gave her a bit of trouble. It would have been a simple job had it not been for the Colonel, who insisted she "needed his help." Unfortunately, his doubled vision made it a bit impossible.

"Look out, Hawkeye!" he shouted, swinging his sword wildly in all directions (except the right one). "There are two of them!"

Riza sighed as she ducked under her commander's weapon (again). "Stay out of the way, Sir!" she said (again). He was just slowing her down. She stepped to the side to deftly sweep Mustang's feet out from under him. It was better this way. She ignored his cry of protest as he crashed to the floor. Riza turned and leveled her sword at her opponent.

"I've got you now, my pretty!" the witch cackled.

Riza gaped at the hag for a moment. "Really? Did you really just... really?" Sometimes she hated this world and all its prosaisms. It grew tiresome after a while. With a hearty sigh she circled the witch's cauldron, sword low in her hands.

The hag, clearly unaccustomed to such fearlessness, let out a little shriek and fled to a table laden with potions. "Stay back!" She lifted a blue bottle in one hand. "Stay back or I'll -"

Riza didn't hear the rest of what the old woman had to say. She was far too busy parting the witch from her head. The thing tumbled off her neck and fell to the floor with a sickening thud. Riza wiped her blade on the witch's body with a small, disgusted frown before she turned back to the Colonel.

"Amazing, Hawkeye," Musang mumbled as she helped him stand again. "You got both of them at one time."

"Yes Sir."

Mustang had grown fairly delirious by the time they reached the ground floor. Hawkeye was beginning to have difficulty handling him; he kept reaching out for things that weren't there, and every time she stepped away to deal with a new foe, he disappeared. It had become increasingly hard to find him. Most recently (after having slayed a few larger-than-natural rats), she discovered him sitting happily next to a very dead, very rotten goblin corpse.

"We were having tea, Hawkeye," he protested as she pulled him away (again). "Gary and I were having tea."

"You can have tea with Gary later, Sir."

In the end, she was right. The ogre was indeed waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. And he was not happy. He took one look at Riza's now-ruined gown and let out a low, rumbling growl that loosed tiles from the floor.

"Grraawwwrrrr," said the ogre (which Riza took to mean "You're not going anywhere" …or something to that extent).

Riza sighed (again). She shuffled over to the nearby wall, Mustang in tow. "Stay here," she said, gently easing her commanding officer off her shoulder and propping him against the stones. He grasped her arm before she could step away.

"I can help you," he mumbled. "You need my help."

"No, Sir. I really don't." She carefully plucked his fingers off her arm, one by one.

Roy frowned. "I'm pretty sure you do, Hawkeye." He reached to his side to grab his sword. His hand missed three times before he managed to take hold of the hilt. He drew it forth and grinned. "Ha!" The blade tip dipped and wove unsteadily.

Riza shook her head. She drew her own weapon and tapped the back of his knees with the flat of her blade. Mustang fell the the floor with a very indignant grunt. "Stay," she said, before turning back to the ogre.

"Mwwra rwa rwa rwaaaaa," said the ogre. Riza could swear the creature was laughing. It raised its crudgel above its head and waved it threateningly. "Wwaant."

Riza was no stranger to combat. She knew how to deal with opponents much larger than herself. It was all about knowing their weaknesses. Ogres, she knew, had one soft spot. Unfortunately it would take some ingenuity (and a bit of luck) to reach it: She needed to get to its head. Quite the feat, considering the thing stood at least twelve feet off the ground. She would have to lure it down to her level. And she knew just how to do it. She only wished it didn't have to come to this.

She would have to be... that woman. Demure. Enchanting. A fucking damsel in distress.

Riza smoothly tucked her sword behind her back and blinked up at the ogre in what she hoped was a coy kind of way. The ogre paused, seemingly confused by the sudden change in character.

"I'm sorry," Riza said in the highest, wispiest voice she could manage, "I never noticed how... handsome you were before."

"WHAT?!" Mustang shouted.

Riza sent him a severe look before smiling back at the ogre. Shut up, she thought. Shut up shut up shut up. She couldn't afford the Colonel's interference now. She wouldn't be able to maintain this facade for long. Fortunately, it seemed to be working. A stupid grin spread on the ogre's face and he lumbered forward a few steps. Riza fought back the urge to vomit as the creature's odor washed over her.

Come on, Riza thought as she shifted from foot to slippered foot. Come on, you brute.

The ogre hunched lower, staring at her hungrily with its tiny, watery eyes. Riza's grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, biding her time. It crouched even lower, chest nearly brushing its knees. He was almost in range when something stepped in its path: A very wobbly, very concussed Colonel.

"Back!" he said, aiming his weapon just over the ogre's shoulder. Clearly he was still seeing double.

The ogre let out a whining grumble and made squeezing motions in the general direction of Hawkeye's breasts.

Mustang frowned. "No," he slurred. "Mine."

"Sir...!"

"Stay back, Hawkeye! I can handle this."

Riza slapped a hand to her forhead and rubbed her eyes. "No Sir. I really don't think you can."

"I can, Hawkeye. Just watch." Mustang coughed as the ogre took another step closer, its stench growing stronger by the second.

"Sir, you just tried to have tea with a dead goblin!"

Mustang sniffed. "Gary..." he said wistfully. His sword dropped half a foot.

The ogre saw its opportunity. It lunged toward Roy, growling through a set of broken, yellowed teeth. The beast was upon the Colonel in less than a heartbeat.

"Sir!" Hawkeye shrieked. She started forward, knowing she was too far away to do anything to prevent his almost certain demise. Yet by some twist of fate (or perhaps more accurately, luck), a spell of dizziness seemed to overtake the Colonel. He swayed on his feet and toppled on to the pavement. The ogre's fingers sailed over his head, just missing him by a mere hairsbreadth.

The beast roared and drew forth a huge club it had strapped to its back. The weapon was hewn from an ancient gnarled oak, thick as a man and hard as stone. The ogre swung the club as though it weighed nothing, aiming directly at the two soldiers. Riza gasped and stumbled backwards. Her foot caught on her long skirt; she only just managed to leap out of the way as the weapon struck from above. The ground shook beneath her feet and she stumbled to the floor.

For a long moment, all she could hear was a dull ringing in her ears and the sound of falling rubble. Riza pushed herself up on her hands, coughing on dust stirred up by the massive concussion. "Sir," she choked. "Are you alright?" She could hardly see through the clouds of dust that drifted through the room. Riza stumbled to her feet. "Sir?"

The was a low moan from somewhere to her left, and the ogre let out a rumbling laugh. Riza looked up to see the club embedded in the ground where she stood mere seconds before. Mustang was nowhere in sight.

"Colonel!" she called, waving her hand in front of her face to clear away the dust. The clouds parted and her heart nearly stopped at what she saw.

The ogre stood over Mustang, one foot poised to crush him. Her commander lay utterly still on the ground, staring up at the brute with darkening eyes. Mustang's entire body was stiff, his fingers slowly coiling into claws. He bore his teeth at the ogre - expression suddenly more animal than man. The Colonel snarled, long and low.

"Sir!" she shouted. She didn't have much time. Something terrible was going to happen if she didn't act now. Riza looked around, desperate for something - anything - to stop her commander from being crushed. Her eyes fell on the giant club, still sticking up from the ground. It angled up like a path, ending just in line with the ogre's shoulder. "Better than nothing," she muttered. She hiked up her skirts and broke into a sprint.

The wood sounded hollow beneath her slippered feet as she dashed up the surface of the club. She felt the thing shift under her weight as she neared the end, and for a heart-stopping moment was afraid it might topple. But she managed to leap off the handle, skirts flying about her as she flew through the air. She landed on top of the ogre's shoulder. The brute only just turned its head before her sword was in her hand.

"Goodbye," she muttered before plunging her blade into the ogre's eye. The oaf let out a surprisingly high-pitched scream. Riza grunted and pushed it further - all the way to the hilt. Black blood gushed over her hands and she nearly choked as the stench washed over her. The ogre cried out and flailed, stumbling back and nearly knocking Riza from her perch. She clung tightly to her sword, twisting it cruelly into his eye socket with all her might.

The ogre convulsed and Riza's hands slipped on her blood-coated sword. She quickly lost her footing and tumbled off its shoulder, landing on the pavement with a loud grunt. Riza just managed to glance up as the ogre fell backward into a pile of rubble. The beast spasmed, stones shifting and groaning under his giant bulk. It was a long time before it finally lay still.

Riza was panting hard by the time she reached Mustang's side. "Sir!" she gasped. She was relieved to see him let out a long moan and open his eyes.

Mustang reached up to cover his nose. "What is that smell?"

"It's me, Sir," she said, holding out one stained hand. "Ogre blood."

Mustang blinked. "My head hurts," he said matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure it does."

Mustang reached up to touch the silk sleeve that still wrapped his head. His fingers came away bloody. He looked surprised. "How'd I get this?"

Riza shook her head. "You don't remember?"

Roy frowned. "I remember the ogre... he was about to... squash me under his... foot..."

Riza nodded. "You nearly transformed."

"Shhh!" he said, hastily reaching up to her face. He probably meant to cover her mouth to quiet her, but he missed completely and his palm ended up hitting the end of her nose. "Shhh. They'll hear."

Frowning, Riza glanced around. The courtyard was empty (sans one ogre corpse). "It's okay, Sir. We're the only ones here."

"No, Hawkeye," Mustang said, expression utterly serious. The effect was only somewhat ruined by his slightly crossed eyes. "Them. My secret. They don't know the truth about me yet."

"Sir," she said, carefully easing his hand down from her face. "You're delirious. You're not making sense. There's no one here besides you and me."

Roy escaped her grasp and reached for her again, this time catching hold of the front of her dress. "No, Hawkeye. Listen to me. They're always here, watching us. We just never see them."

Riza sighed and reached up to pry his fingers from her collar. "Who's watching us, Sir?"

"The readers," Mustang whispered before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The Colonel's hands slid from Hawkeye's dress and he slumped into unconsciousness.

"Great," she muttered. "Just wonderful." There was no chance of him walking from this place now. She puffed out a long breath, sizing up her commander with an appraising eye. There was really no choice on the matter. She'd have to carry him, armor and all.

As she reached down to sling her commander's arm around her neck and heft him over her shoulders, Riza vaguely wondered how she could ever be mistaken for a damsel, let alone one in distress.

-o-o-o-

"Agh! Hawkeye!" Mustang whined, pulling away from her as she dabbed his wound with a damp cloth. "Be more careful!"

"It's not that bad," she murmured, though her hands were more gentle when she next pressed her cloth against the gash. "Stop being such a baby."

"I am not."

Riza hid a smile. She was back in her usual garb - light leather armor over a homespun tunic - clothes she typically wore when she was off duty, though her hair still hung loose about her shoulders. It had taken a lengthy bath and a homemade concoction of herbs to wash the ogre stench out. She reached down to rinse the cloth again; the water was already stained red.

"You were lucky," she said after a long pause. "That club just missed you."

"I was fine. I had a handle on things the entire time. Have a little faith."

Riza sighed and fixed him with one of her long-suffering looks. She twisted the rag in her hands; pink water dribbled between her fingers. "You make it so difficult sometimes. I was..." she stopped and bit her lip.

"Ha!" He grinned. "I can't believe it! Were you... worried, Hawkeye?"

"No." She kept her eyes trained on the bowl at her side.

"You were. Admit it."

She tipped her head forward so her hair hid her face, just as she did when she was a child. "It was close, is all." She took the moment of silence to gather herself, and when she finally turned to press the cloth against his head again, her expression was cool and impassive. "You made it exceedingly difficult for me today, Sir," she said crisply.

Mustang's smile widened. "I'm good at that," he said.

"You are. You really are," she sighed. She reached up with her other hand to push his fringe out of the way; she frowned when she saw the wound went much further back than she thought.

Roy' s hand darted out to take hold of her wrist. Riza nearly gasped; sometimes he could be unnervingly fast. Roy huffed. "I'm fine Hawkeye. You know I heal quickly."

"I know." Riza made to pull away, but Roy's hand tightened. Leaning over him as she was, she suddenly realized how close they were. She could feel Roy's breath brush over her collarbone, the feel of his hip against hers. Riza swallowed and leaned back to rewet the rag.

Roy released her hand with a sigh. "Hawkeye."

"Mmm?" She dabbed the cloth at the wound, avoiding his eyes.

"I really did like that dress."

Riza snorted. "Very funny, Sir." Yet a smile touched the edge of her lips and could feel the briefest flutter in her chest. She turned away to stoke the fire.

Damsel in distress? she thought wryly. Unlikely. But damsel? She dared a glance over her shoulder at the man who gave her so many troubles in so many ways. She felt her heart flutter again. Perhaps sometimes.

-o-o-o-

Hope you enjoyed!