12/23/16: Written for the FMA Secret Santa 2016 event on Tumblr and especially for marimel-stars on tumblr. This is my first Royai fan fiction (well, it's royai-ish).

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IS EQUAL TRADE

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The trip to Ishval from Central consisted of one long train ride to Resembool, a longer trek by foot toward the edge of Amestris' southeastern border and finally, a horse or camel ride further East. If one actually didn't stop in New Kanda, the reconstructed capitol, eventually, you'd end up in the ruins of Xerxes and on toward Xing. General Roy Mustang intended to get a rail line out this far. If not to bring goods and people back to this war-torn part of Amestris, but so it wouldn't take him so god-damned long to even get there to begin with.

As it were, Mustang knew his new elevated rank allowed him to travel a bit better than some. He had managed without walking on foot, but rode in relative comfort in a sand truck caravan. Despite the desert climate, the winter season also kept Ishval dry and very cold. The General could see his breath.

"Too cold, sir?" Captain Hawkeye, ever his adjunct inquired. She had access to some woolen blankets and knew her superior would refuse them, but his task in Ishval was too important to catch a cold.

"I'm fine...it's just odd to me to be somewhere with miles and miles of sand yet the temperature so frigid."

"It's better than in the summer, I suppose."

"True."

"Sir?" Riza had carefully constructed this inquiry since the two of them left Central for Ishval. She knew she must treat lightly but she had to get this off her chest. "When did you decide to grow a mustache?" There, it was out in the open.

"This?" Roy smiled. "After the promised day and reconstruction of the military high command, I spent a lot of time with Grumman in the old Fuhrer's offices. I never noticed it before, but the corridor leading to Bradley's office is also a hall of portraits...all former leaders of Amestris and every single one of those men had a mustache."

"Sir...every one of those men were puppets of that homunculus...are you sure that's something you wish to emulate?"

"Not because they were controlled, but their image obviously worked to help them into power too. The people respected them." He turned his gaze toward his subordinate. "What about you, Captain?"

"Sir?" She could tell by the mirth in his voice he planned on ambushing her with a personal question in return for the one she just asked him.

"Why did you decide to shear off your hair?" He uttered the words without hiding the sound of regret even though he'd never ever voiced that he loved her long golden locks...or wished a chance to be close enough to her again to run his fingers through it.

"You know I cut it during your long recovery...to get your sight back." Riza didn't feel like bringing up bad memories for the General. However, it was a fact that it took months of therapy and treatments from Dr. Marcoh to reverse the Flame Alchemist's blindness. "I was too busy between you and Jean to tend to it and decided to cut it off. It's much easier to take care of now."

"Is that so?"

"And with the current drought in Ishval, I doubt long hair would be very practical."

"Captain, you're very pragmatic...my sisters would much rather loose a finger than chop off their crowning beauty." Mustang thought fondly of all the "sisters" his aunt employed at her old bar, which was currently being rebuilt.

"I'm a soldier first, and long hair is not worth the trouble." Riza didn't understand Mustang not wanting to let go this conversation. Hair was hair, not anything more.

"Let me ask you something and promise me that you will answer it...and be honest."

"Sir?"

"I don't want an answer of a subordinate." His eyes narrowed. "Tell me as my friend...what do you think about the mustache?"

"Well..." She couldn't just blurt it out. Roy had seemed just so damned proud of the little scraps of facial hair on his upper lip. He really wanted to assume the role of a wise General even though he was barely just over thirty. "Sir..." The formality from her earned a grunt from him. "...um, General Mustang..." She just didn't have it within her to call him Roy while they were on duty. "...my opinion really doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't!" He turned so that she had to see his full face. "Yours is the only opinion that matters to me..." Roy wasn't sure if he should have been that honest. "What do you think of it?"

"I don't like it...Sir." She exhaled, knowing that the truth may smart a bit, but it was her truth and he'd asked for her to be honest.

"You don't?" Mustang chuckled. "Really?"

"I never liked men with facial hair." Riza uttered those words as if breathing them.

"Oh." Roy sat back and for the longest time while they were driven across the cold sand, neither of them spoke until finally, the General decided to break the silence. "Well, I could make you a deal..."

"What about?" Again, the tone in the man's voice she recognized as one he used after his brilliant mind worked a scheme to fruition and he was about to explain his plan.

"When we are done with our part of the reconstruction of Ishval..."

"Yes?"

"...and if you still want to follow me on my return to Central..."

"I think you know my stance on how far I will follow you, Sir." To Hell if he asked.

"Yes..." The image of Riza's wound from the Promised Day, the red scar across the side of her neck flashed into his mind and he winced. "I do." Riza noticed him flinch. "...then perhaps if you would grow your hair long again...I will shave my mustache off."

Riza answered with silence.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know...it's an awful lot of work on my part..."

"What?!"

"I mean, I have to grow out my hair...it will take more than a year. It takes longer to wash and longer to dry and will be a pain...whereas all you have to do is shave." She smiled, knowing she'd gotten under his skin. "I just don't see how that is...what do you alchemists call...equivalent exchange?"

He couldn't believe she'd compared his compliment toward her beautiful hair to an alchemical concept. However, despite being annoyed by it, he knew she was right.

"Sir?"

"Hawkeye, I will shave this mustache off as soon as I get a chance if you would grow out your hair again."

"I'll consider it." She smiled, she really liked her hair short and wondered if she like it more than she hated the god-awful thing on Mustang's face. "Let's discuss what else about this deal is equal trade." Yeah, she was sure that along with getting rid of his ridiculous facial hair, she could convince him to make more concessions...like doing more of his own paperwork and giving her some time off once in a while. She even pondered milking an expensive dinner from this exchange.