A.N(Hi ya' party people this is my second story i'm putting up on fanfiction its an AU I hope ya like it if anyone is OOC I apologize ahead of time)

chapter 1

The deep black marble floors chilled Riza's feet with their coldness. She partially stood on her knees in the furhrer's mansion's gathering hall. Along with her fellow slaves kneeling before the slave handlers waiting for their orders. Some slaves might see this as a time of worry many handlers would lash out at them for no reason.

Riza herself saw this as a much needed break. You got to kneel down and not stand for a while anything other than work was an improvement. After years of being a slave Riza had found that keeping your head down, and just follow your orders without question. You'd be fine...well fine in a relative sense. Riza heard one slave lash out at a handler she did not focus on his words. She did hear the sound of a whip cracking and a defeated yelp. Rebellions against your superiors never did last long.

Once that might have been Riza talking back to their masters. Disobeying orders all that got her was beatings, whipped, and her food and water rations taken away. She stopped fighting it a few years after her teenaged years ended. Riza has been a slave as long as she can remember. She was enslaved when she was very young sold to a farmer by her parents. That is what she was lead to believe, eventually the farmer sold her to a high ranking aristocrat who worked for the Fuhrer of Amestris.

Compared to the farmer she rather work in the fields again for the farmer than in the fuhrer's mansion. Slaves were a pretty common thing in Amestris. Sure there were slaves in other countries, but Amestris had the highest number of them. Riza could run off to Xing or even Creta at least she'd have a chance at freedom there if she could even get that far.

"All right same stations as yesterday. If you can't remember where you go you better remember fast!" A handler called out finally Riza as did the other slaves raise their heads. They all began dashing as fast as they could to their post to begin work. Riza went fast but wasn't in a big hurry to get to work. Unfortunately for her and a few other slaves they were assigned to work in the boiler room.

'Danmit' Riza cursed the boiler room was the worse place you could work here. The slaves nicknamed the the room appropriately Hell. 'That is pretty much what it is' Riza thought. When one worked in the boiler room you had to shovel coal to fuel the boilers. You might not think that is to bad, but the room had little to what many believed no ventilation. The shovels they made the slaves use were made all of metal no wooden handle, so eventually the shovel would heat up and burn your hands. If a handler caught you putting down a shovel they'd punish you saying you were slaking. Only way to protect your hands were to rip up some of your cloths and wrap your hands so they wouldn't burn. It didn't help much though.

As Riza approached the stairs to go down to the boilers. She pulled out the shredded cloth that she had been using to protect her own hands. Even with the cloth she looked at her hands they were heavily calloused blisters covering them. Riza sighed the rest of her body was fairing no better. Her feet to were covered in calluses, she couldn't remember the last time she had shoes. Riza always just wrapped her feet in cloth the last pair of shoes she had were long since wore past being useful. Her body was basically bones only some muscle covered it because she worked all the time. Riza sometimes had trouble breathing because of breathing in all the fumes from the boiler room. The only thing that was in pretty good shape were her eyes see could see amazingly well surprisingly.

Riza descended into the boiler room. Other slaves who have finished their shifts down there hurried out not caring that that the brightness from the world above blinded them. Walking down into the dimly lit room, sweat already formed on Riza's body from the hot steam and smoke coming from the boilers. The handler down there glared at her she paid him no mind doing as he would want her. Grabbing a shovel its heat making her palms sting unhealed burns protested being put against more heat Riza began shoveling coal anyway.

Letting her body go numb as it went through the movements. Riza let her mind wander she had trained herself to do this. She'd think about any topic to keep her mind away from her mistreated body's protest of work. Deciding to think of recent events she thought of the rumors that Fuhrer Bradley might be taken out of office. That rumor brought hope of freedom to Riza. Bradley was the whole reason the slave trade was allowed to expand to what it is now. If someone else toke control then maybe they would work to free some of them.

It was unlikely it gave Riza hope though. Driving her thoughts somewhere that wouldn't give her false hope of freedom Riza thought of the news that a general that had been stationed in Xing would be coming soon after a long term there.

'Great another cruel tyrant visiting. As if the ones living here weren't enough' Riza thought bitterly. Nobles, kings, princes, queens, aristocrats, and of course generals who worked for the Fuhrer visited the mansion often to dispute things with the Fuhrer. The only problem was they usually made things worse for the slaves. Some were nice to them and even gave the slaves extra food. No matter how kind they were though the slave handlers would be extra cruel to them during this time.

Riza didn't know the name of the noble visiting she didn't have enough time to listen to gossip. She didn't care though. All she worried about was not collapsing from exhaustion on the job, protecting her ration of food, and staying heathy enough not to be deemed unfit to work. She shuddered at the thought of being deemed unfit to work that was the equivalent to signing your final wish. Slaves unfit to work were considered useless, and they were killed.

The ending bell rung out. Their shift in the boiling room was finally over. Riza dropped the shovel her hands burning despite the cloth covering them. Dehydration gnawed at Riza black spots came into her vision. This was normal though hours in the boiler room with no break sometimes slaves would use this chance. They would just let exhaustion claim them allowing themselves to fall into the boiler. Burning flesh would coat the room with its horrid smell. No one cared if this happened the slave handler would just call some slaves in to drag the body out. No prayers or any religious ceremony would be held for these slaves not even their name would be said in mourning. For very few slaves could remember their original names all slaves had a number, and that is what they were called.

Riza toke pride in the fact that she could remember her full birth name. Riza Hawkeye sometimes when trying to fall asleep when exhaustion didn't make her, she'd just repeat it to herself just to be sure she would never forget it. D-214 was who she would be to anyone other than herself. The number tattooed on her arm marked her forever as a slave. The numbers were pointless Riza in her opinion thought the handlers wouldn't call you by it they just yell point at you and expect you to know they are talking to you.

Climbing out of the boiler room stairs Riza closed her eyes at the brightness of the world compared to the boiler room. She hadn't even realized she'd been down there that long, you could lose hours working down there. Not wanting to attract a handler to her for taking to long Riza hurried off to the next place she would work for the day. The Fuhrer's private horse stables a rather easy job compared to the boiler room. It was late in the day now when she first went down to the boiler it was a few hours till lunch time. Well lunch time for any free person slaves ate when they were remembered to be feed. If you were lucky you would work in the kitchen and you be able to sneak a bit of food every so often. Entering the stables Riza's fatigue still has yet to fad, but she ignores it after this she'll be able to rest she tells herself trying to ignore the empty stomach growling at her.

"I'll get the first half you get the rest." A slave who was also sent here now that shifts had changed told Riza. Nodding in agreement she went to the hay shoot that deposited hay for one to gather up. Gathering up as much as she could carry Riza went to filling the horse's feed boxes. Once finished she grabbed a brush from the shelf, and Riza went to brush all the knots out the horses' manes. Upon completing this along with filling their water boxes the sun was setting and the bell rung again. All slaves minus ones scheduled in the boiler room night shift and the personal slaves as well as the cooks. All slaves went back to the slave housing that was in reality was two large wore down barns that lay behind the mansion out of sight.

No beds were in the partially falling down barns. There was some hay you could use for a pillow no designated spots for sleeping. All one did was walk in at the end of the day fall down curl into the most comfortable position and fall asleep. That is exactly what Riza did letting today's workload take effect. Going to the nearest corner she curled up in some hay falling asleep. This was a normal day for her things were going to change though unbeknown to Riza.

Brigadier General Roy Mustang marvel at the giant mansion of the Fuhrer. Smirking he thought how someday that mansion will be his. The General had just returned from Xing, he had been ordered to visit there to negotiate the return of slaves Xing had allowed to escape into the their country. Roy knew the real reason they sent him to do this job, no way anyone would care about a few escaped slaves. The higher ups had sent Roy to Xing in hopes he would be assassinated. The higher ups didn't like Roy's plans, getting him out of the way would make things way easier for them to do their own doings. Mustang has been rising up the ranks fast trying to get a hold of the rank of Fuhrer so he could change this country for the better.

"Starting with you guys." Roy mumbled looking out the car window to the Fuhrer's own personal crop fields. Outside slaves worked tirelessly, anger came to Roy the mansion didn't even need many of the things it had, things that slaves were force to maintain. Roy continued to watch them as the car slowly made its way up to the mansion. He nearly jumped out of the car when he saw one collapse falling into the dirt. What he thought might be someone going to help the poor soul, Roy was wrong dead wrong the person who dashed up to the slave was yelling at them. The one who approached barley gave them time to get up before pulling out a whip. Its cracking could be heard even in the sealed car, Roy flinched at the sound angry and sad he could do nothing to help the poor slave.

"Don't worry you'll all be free one day." Roy whispered as others were called to carry the limp slave off the fields.

A.N(I'll try and update this regularly but my other story I'm doing now comes first unless someone wants this updated asap anyway reviews are loved^^)