Married To a Prison Break

Summary : In a country where alchemy is banned and being an alchemist automatically means you're a public enemy, what does it take for an unlikely (accidentally) married couple to survive? AU.

Disclaimer : FMA doesn't belong to me.


Prologue

Riza

He was deceptively, and ultimately, handsome. Cunning, dangerous, charming… I could've listed half a dozen more things that could define his impossibly perfect features. Each and every cell of his existence seemed to scream sins outlawed by God himself; from his silky, jet black hair falling to his impeccable face, to his fair smooth skin… He had features of a devil in disguise, all carved from the finest material with an angel's skill. Every girl – no, every human being would drop on their knees on his presence.

I absolutely hated him.

Roy

Hawk's eyes, they were. Sharp, penetrating, calculating, and alert. Piercing through mine, akin to a dark brown lance shot through my mind. I could tell that she wasn't just any kind of girl. She was not fooled in the slightest by my courtesy; my pretence; my near indestructible mask… My façade was useless around her.

Nevertheless, the hawk was quite beautiful in her own way. Naturally cut golden blonde hair falling smoothly in straight locks around her stern face; not bad at all. Simple, clean, no fuss, and no nonsense kind of girl she was. No, not a girl. She was no less of a lady.

She's a lady of the hawks; deadly as a piercing arrow.


Chapter One

How the Devil Chained the Hawk

Desert's nights were cold and dry, blown by cruel, bruising gusts of wind. A mix of coarse sand, pebbles, and sandstones carpeted the parched ground, particles of sand occasionally danced through the air in a gust of rogue wind. High up in the empty sky, dimly glowing moon hung; casting its gloomy, pearly white gleam all over the grim landscape.

One could say, the lonely landscape was not fit for any living being. Yet, the desert was all but deserted. A huge, stone built fortress sat somewhere amidst the lonely desert. Barbed tall fences circled the austere building, complete with a hundred kilowatts huge spotlights swerving and turning with their blinding rays. Hundreds of guards patrolled the silent fortress; ready to pelt any intruder with raining bullets. As if they were not enough, alarms perched alertly on the stone walls.

Berlitz high end security prison. Exclusive only to mass murderers, terrorists, and enemies of national government. No living being had ever escaped their thickly walled cells. One inch out of the building unauthorized, and you'll die a bloody mash. You go there once; you'll stay there for good. Thanks to the extreme security, however, the fortress was as calm as it was austere.

No threat has ever menaced the quiet fortress. Actually, the fact is no one was crazy enough to menace government's most guarded prison. However, one bloody night shook the statistics.

One dark figure held his hand below the pearly full moon. The night was velvety and calm, before fire storm exploded out of nowhere. Death and misfortune befell those living inside the doomed fortress, as the inextinguishable flame consumed the building like an almighty dragon. Ignited from nothingness, the fire perished in the hand of a man. A man whose hand possessed the skills of the devil. Whose mind was as treacherous as a joker, and whose eyes were as dark as desert nights.


"'Berlitz Prison Turned Into Rubbles'?" Riza raised one eyebrow at the curious headline. Her lipstick polished lips curved into a frown. She took the steaming cup of coffee she had prepared on the counter, and slowly walked toward her bedroom.

The wooden door creaked as it opened. Riza continued reading her newspaper with her cup of coffee still steaming in her firm grip. "I thought that place was near indestructible?"

"I don't know, Riza-san. But my friend said that the fortress was burned to the ground," a blonde youth replied as she lounged in her bed absentmindedly. She stared on the ceiling with interest, examining the glowing rays of sunlight gleaming on the white painted surface.

Riza took a sip of her coffee and sighed contently. Her brown eyes scanned the news thoroughly. Lines like 'fire alarms jammed', 'prisoners were burnt beyond dental recognition', and 'no survivor' dominated the grim news. She noticed that the news actually ended on a positive note.

"No wonder about that," she set her half empty cup on the small desk by the window and refolded the newspaper.

Berlitz high end security prison was one of the most tightly guarded prison in the entire country. Notable criminals, such as corruptors, terrorists, mass murderers, and God know what else were locked up there. Located amidst the Stronoway desert, the prison was guarded with utmost care. Armed with a couple hundred of soldiers, thousands of alarms, heat and movement censors, security cameras, guard dogs, spotlights, etc, etc. How it could possibly be burned to the ground was a mystery.

"Winry, where is the location of this prison?" Riza asked curiously. "I didn't find any exact location in the news…"

"Oh, nobody knew exactly where it was," Winry replied cheerfully from her bed; her hair still a tangly mess as she sat up. "Only official guards knew where it was. All I know is that the prison was located somewhere on the other side of this desert area."

Riza slowly opened the curtain of the windows; revealing the bright morning sun outside. She did not comment on the fact that only dozens of miles away from the safety of her apartment, notorious mass murderers and psychopaths were locked up together in some kind of fortress, but deep down she was grateful that the place burned to the ground.

"Serves them right," she thought harshly, a frown reforming on her face. Gently, she pushed open the windows to let the cool morning air seep into the warm bedroom. Morning air in Colstradella was cool and dry; contrasting to the heat of its afternoons. The cool air would stay for a few hours before the sunlight baked the city. The town's hustle and bustle from the previous night continued in the fresh, early morning. Colstradella never sleeps amidst its rich collection of casinos, hotels, and clubs.

"Hurry up Winry, make up your bunk!" Riza turned from the fresh air of the new morning to face Winry, who was still blankly staring at the sunray on her bed.

Glancing one last look at the blonde, Riza turned to the door and left the room. "If you don't fix your bed and take a bath in ten minutes, I won't make you any breakfast," she declared out loud to Winry.

As if shocked by a million watts electric current, Winry jumped from her sanctuary and quickly made up her bed. Nevertheless, not without grumbling quietly all the while. Riza merely smiled as she went to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast.


"Do you have any classes left today?"

Winry lifted her head from her plateful of pancakes. Chomping on the very last bits in her mouth, she answered unclearly, "Nope."

Riza managed a mildly disgusted and amused look as she stood up from her chair. They were having breakfast in the small kitchen, as usual. The cozy room was filled with the delicious smell of cinnamon, blueberries, coffee, and tea.

Breakfast was always full and satisfying in the hand of Riza. Whether it was just a plateful of pancakes with bacon or scrambled eggs, it'll always turn out delicious.

Plates and dirty glasses clattered as Riza dumped them on the kitchen sink. She turned the water on and began to rinse, while Winry was reading the newspaper. "Winry, have you called grandma yet?" she asked the blonde.

"Yep, I have," she grinned at Riza from behind her newspaper. "She said she'll be happy to welcome us there."

Riza smiled as she finished putting the plates inside the dishwasher. She wiped her hand and said, "Then we'll leave first thing tomorrow."

Winry grinned wide and continued reading her newspaper. "Are you still gonna work tonight, Riza?" she asked absentmindedly.

"Of course," Riza replied without hesitation. "That bar needs me."

"Can't you leave it just for tonight?"

"No."

"Do you still have classes today?"

"Yes. In fact, I should get going now," Riza glanced at the white clock hung over the big windows opening to the city outside. "I'll meet you tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Winry pouted a little with distaste, yet she nodded.

Riza quickly snatched her bag, slung over her chair and left the cozy kitchen. A couple of minutes later, she left her apartment to the hustle and bustle of the city outside.


He was in mortal danger, he knew it. He's got an open wound below his left rib, blood oozing all over his pale skin. His little bit of carelessness had cost him a hefty amount of blood and a shirt which stank the metallic scent of blood. His journey across the desert drained energy out of his limp body, and now that he had arrived in the nearest city, the sun had already risen up in the clear blue sky.

More carelessness was the last thing the tired man needed; his appearance would cost him too many amount of attention, the very last thing he wanted in such a situation. Normally, attention was something he craved. Much to his dismay, however, he hasn't been in a normal situation for at least ten straight months. Not after he got himself chucked in jail.

His head rested on the cool wall; cool shades casted all over him. The quiet, dark alley was the perfect place to hide. It seemed to be deserted, and all the buildings around it seemed to be abandoned. Certainly, nobody could catch him there, weak and running out of blood.

His eyes closed for a few seconds as his sharp mind calculated the chances of him getting to the capital city without getting caught. Naturally, it was less than one percent, what with the pathetic state he was in.

He switched his mindset to figure out his current state. If he wasn't mistaken, he was in a casino town called Colstradella. A busy city filled with glamorous casinos, hip clubs, and – ironically – the best colleges in the country. Fortunately, at the moment he was located in the less populated part of the city – the part which used to be home to factories and industrial buildings. Colstradella used to be an industrial city in the past, before monetary crisis passed by and all the factories were closed. To save the crumbling city, the government converted most of its factories into casinos, and built colleges and residential areas to attract youths nationwide.

Much more importantly, he minded, he's got a bleeding wound, and he needed to deal with that first. The easiest thing he could do to close the wound was to burn it, but he knew it would be horribly painful. So painful, in fact, that he wouldn't be able to sit upright afterward.

"Worth a try though," he smiled as he opened his eyes. Eyes darker than the night's sky, with pupils of pure ink black. Those eyes closed again as his left palm hovered slowly over the bleeding wound. His lips curved into a smile for a few milliseconds.

A horrible scream pierced the quiet morning, filled with agony and orchestrated by the sound of bursting flames.


Riza, as you might've guessed, was a college student. She went to Colstradella two years ago to study in a law school. Not much known about her, apart that she had a cousin who went to live together with her last year. She also had a part time job as a bartender in a small bar in the city. She, as expected of her, had excellent grades and – so far – no boyfriend.

Apart from that, this morning she went to her school as usual. She attended her classes, met a few friends – most of them guys, yet none of them meant anything special to her – and left the campus in the evening. A typical day for her.

At six, she went back to her apartment, and found it empty.

"I guess Winry must be off somewhere," she thought absentmindedly as she turned on the lights in the quiet apartment. The big windows in the kitchen were slightly open; cool evening breeze blew softly into the room. Riza stood by the window and watched the city lights began to glow in the desert sky. She always loved Colstradella, with it extravagant casinos, blinding lights, and noisy crowds. Yet, it was nowhere near her hometown, and tomorrow, for the very first time, she will be going home for the very first time in the past two years.

A smile formed on her lips, and she closed the windows gently. The gentle stream of night air hitched, and she turned to her kitchen to fix herself some dinner.

After a satisfying meal of homemade macaroni and cheese, she changed into her uniform and left the apartment for the night. She would return there during midnight, after she finished her shift in her workplace. Little did she know that she would not return there alone.


Through several painful processes, which shall not be told here due to its gruesomeness, the dark haired man managed to fix his wound, stole himself a decent shirt, trousers, and coat, and combed his hair. All done in the past twelve hours.

"Now, all I need is some transportation for me to go to the capital…" he thought to himself. Also, he noted in his mind, his stomach was painfully empty, and his throat was as parched as the desert itself. However, as he knew perfectly well, he didn't have any money.

As he strolled in the bustling streets of Colstradella, with all its glowing lights, loud music, and delicious food, it became apparent that he would have to "fix" himself some food if he wanted to survive. This man, had a talent of charming beautiful ladies (or at least he thought so), and he was not afraid to use it.

Much to his dismay, however, it seemed that Colstradellan women weren't interested in the slightest with men with both dark hair and eyes. Not to mention he looked a little like a vagrant, which did nothing to enhance his appeal. Now, all he could do is beg – or steal.

As the night grew darker and darker, and the street bustled and glowed in the bath of gleaming lights, he decided to take a chance. As he walked past a tiny little bar, standing out amidst the glowing and bustling casinos and loud clubs around it, he decided to try his luck there.

Tiny bells rang as he pushed open the simple wooden door. Inside, quiet jazz music played, contrasting to the usual hip hop and disco music played throughout Colstradella. He noticed that there weren't many people inside, just a few couples and two bartenders. One of them, he noted happily, was a girl.

He strolled casually toward the simple bar. He could feel his confidence building with every step; it had been a long time since he was allowed to chat with girls. He couldn't say he wasn't looking forward to charming girls again.

He sat on one of the stools in front of the bar and called, "One shot of whisky for me, please!"

Fortunately, it was the girl who replied to his order. However, instead of making his order, she walked briskly toward him and took an abrupt stop once she saw him. He noted that her eyes were running up and down his appearance with apparent distaste, and a frown began to form on her face.

"Do you actually have the money to pay?" her warm brown eyes narrowed.

"Why, of course, ma'am," he smiled his most glowing smile, which met no result. The girl's expression did not slack, and her frown grew deeper. Her eyes scrutinized each and every inch of his body; from his slightly crumpled shirt and his dark brown coat, to his jet black hair. Her eyes, he noted, was like a hawk's. Or an x-ray, perhaps.

Trying to change the subject, he asked in his most charming voice, "May I know your name?"

She lifted one eyebrow, yet she replied, "Riza."

"So, Riza. You live around here?"

"That is none of your business," she replied briskly, her eyes narrowing a little bit more. "Besides, why should I answer any of your question if you didn't give tell me your name after I told mine?"

"Ah, pardon me," he said in an apologetic tone. "My name is Roy. Roy Mustang."

She said nothing, yet her eyes began to relax. Her fingers tucked a strand of hair back to its place; her hair, Roy noticed, was a beautiful golden blonde falling to her shoulders, framing her sturdy, stern face. She looked no less than twenty, she was. And the way she moved and her body language signaled a young lady much more mature than her age.

"So, you've got the money to pay your order?" Riza questioned once more, yet she seemed less stern than before. Nevertheless, her tone was still suspicious. "I suspect you're as broke as vagrant, from the way you dressed."

"Why, I am pretty sure I've got all the money I've got to pay for what I ordered," Roy smiled at her.

Riza didn't say anything, but she turned back to her work without further questioning the man. A couple of minutes later, she returned with a small glass filled with whiskey.

"Here," she set it on the wooden surface. "It's a treat from me."

Roy's smile grew wider. He had her in his pocket, already. Or at least he thought so.


Roy was a man who wasn't pleased to be wrong. He was just too used to being right that he denied that he ever did anything wrong at all. Easily, he was arrogant as hell.

Yet, this time he didn't seem to mind the fact that he had been wrong about having Riza in his pocket. In fact, it was him who was in her pocket. The young lady was exceptionally charming; a kind he never met before in his life. She was sharp, witty, and she wasn't easily fooled and wooed like so many other girls in his life. She was fun to be around, yet she keeps a fine distance from Roy.

Nevertheless, the night went on smoothly. Because there weren't many visitors in the bar, Riza actually responded to his jokes and remarks. The bar closed at around ten pm due to its boss having to go home to nurse his sick child, and Riza actually joined him to have a little drink. Although 'little' was not the perfect adjective to describe their activity, let's just say that when they finally got out of the bar at midnight, they were both slightly less than sober.

Roy was used to drinking; he'd gone through a period in his life where he did nothing else at night but drink his way through every pub in his hometown. Therefore, he was the more sober one during that night. Riza, being a less than inexperienced drinker, was only half sober.

Outside the bar, Colstradella was still aglow, like a huge, shimmering firefly amidst the quiet desert. Loud music issued from every direction, mashing into one huge remix. A soundtrack to the wild night in Colstradella.

Roy straightened himself as he half carried Riza with his arms. She had already gone through her stern manners, and was now slumped on his shoulder. She looked even prettier with her eyes half open, and her hair slightly messy. He had to help her to wear her coat, and for the second time in his life, Roy's heart actually beat a little faster when he touched her shoulder.

Usually, had he found himself with a girl in a drunken state, he would've swooped the girl to the nearest hotel and have a nice, healthy sex. Then, he'll leave first thing in the morning, leaving the girl sad and upset. Yet, he could not bear leaving this girl. Not Riza. Not when he was seriously starting to fall for her. But Roy knew, he had to leave her first thing tomorrow morning. He had to leave Colstradella as soon as possible, for his own good.

"Geez… This is the second time I have to go through this…" he thought bitterly to himself as he tried to straighten Riza up by his side. His eyes stared to the sky up above, and painfully memories from the past flooded from his mind.

"Stop it," he thought sternly. Alcohol was still heavy on his veins, and his judgment wasn't sober all the way. Slowly, one crazy idea began to form in his mind. He didn't want to leave Riza. Therefore, he only needed a way to bring her with him. And to do that, he must…


Colstradella mornings were cool and dry. They were not, in any way, warm and balmy. And no, they did not have an odd scent of sweat clinging in the air.

Riza's eyes fluttered open, yet they closed themselves again immediately as a stroke of headache pierced her head. She felt more uncomfortable than she had ever felt. It almost felt like she had flu; the way her whole body hurts. The air felt hot, and she could feel sweat on her skin.

Her eyes fluttered open again, and what she saw nearly scared the daylight out of her.

It was Roy. Roy. Roy Mustang, the charming bastard she met last night. Her eyes scanned the room she was in with panic. Thankfully, she was in her own room. Which brings the question: why was Roy in her room? To be more precise, why was he sleeping on her bed?

Riza tried to sat up as delicately as possible, yet her joint creaked painfully with every move. Moreover, her hips hurt. To add more to her horror already, there was blood on the sheets. Oh, and she was naked.

Panic attack swooped itself upon her; had she been any less sober, she would've screamed on the top of her lungs. Yet, she was Riza after all. She was used to act calm and composed, and the fact that she just spent the night having sex with a man she barely knew wouldn't drive her into a panic, oh no.

"I won't panic, I won't panic…" she chanted as she tried to stand up, grimacing when her hips hurts like hell. She stretched and took her shirt, which was lying on the floor. As she put it on, she walked and stood by the window. Outside, the sun was still low in the east, while soft, cool morning breeze blew through the slightly open window. The apartment was still quiet, so Winry must be fast asleep in her bedroom.

Riza sighed as she wondered how she could possibly get herself tangled up in such a big mess when something caught her attention. Something on her hand caught the ray of sunlight and gleamed brilliantly. She lifted her hand to examine it more carefully, and her heart nearly jammed into a stop.

It was a ring. An intricately twisting and turning silver ring, circled around her ring finger.

Much to her dismay, she did the most logical thing. She screamed.


A/N : My first ever Royai fic. Well, actually it's not the first. I've written plenty Royais before, I just haven't posted them anywhere out of sheer crappiness of it all. Sorry if it's a bit OOC orz. Anyway, reviews will be highly appreciated, thanks! :)