and this war's not over

Characters: Armstrong-family

Summary: As long as they were standing, they would fight.

Companion: till heaven knows our name

Among all the ancient families, the Armstrongs had been among the luckier ones. They had never faced a downfall like the Mustangs and the Hawkeyes. They had never feared to lose their reputation or their wealth. People said fate favoured the bold ones and they were certainly right because there was hardly anyone bolder than a true Armstrong.

Sometimes, people wondered when exactly the family of blue and gold had started to dominate the capital the way they had for more than a century and if they did some research, they would inevitably find a certain marriage certificate, documenting the marriage of a century – James Alexander Armstrong had married Lionnenburg's fairest maiden, Joanne Llewellyn. According to the sources, the groom had been a handsome young man, an ambitious officer in the military and the bride had been not only pretty but also a tough woman. In the more poetic reports, she was described as a lady with a backbone made of steel hidden under a silken ball gown.

James Alexander and Joanne had had four children, three sons and one daughter. All of their sons entered the military and quickly ascended within the ranks while their daughter was just as beautiful as their mother but not as refined as her. She preferred sparring with her older brother over attending balls and other events of the higher society – in short, she was a slight disappointment at the time.

Her time came as her brother Alexander – named after their father – was captured and most likely imprisoned somewhere in Drachma. For her, the only daughter of the family and her brother's closest confident, this meant war and so she went off, dressed in a far too wide and unflattering uniform, her father's old sword by her side. She had never cared about anything but the good of her family and cutting down anyone who messed with them seemed like one hell of a plan to her.

Ultimately, she failed to save her brother.

She did reach his cell in a state that barely allowed her to walk and yet, she forced her way into his cell where she collapsed by his feet, the bloodstained blade still firmly in her hand and a blue eye wide open. Witnesses claimed that she had smiled as she had passed away but her brother argued that she had merely whispered: "I brought you this sword – now go home."

Either way, Drachma learned to fear the Armstrong-family and especially those members who wore the name Olivier.

And even though she had died without marrying and having any children to carry her blood in their veins, her spirit was irrevocably part of the family's very essence from that day onward and the kin learned a very important lesson far earlier than other, equally rich and prestigious families. They learned that they had to allow their daughters to choose their way just like any man had the right to choose which path he intended to follow until his death.

The next example for an extraordinarily brave and heroic member of the Armstrong-family was born a few years later when Alexander's son Louis entered the world. Just like his infamous aunt, he was a man of his word and he, too, would grab a sword to fight for his rights if necessary. And so he went, battling in the Western Wars when he was only a captain and coming home as a lieutenant general – and as a married man because on his journey, he had met this extraordinarily pretty and witty young maid when he had stopped in an inn and promptly decided to marry her.

His parents were not all that amused because of their daughter-in-law's low social status but her kindness ultimately conquered their hearts as well.

Louis and Therese had only one son: Philippe. But this was okay because this son was already perfect while he was no swordfighter like his father, he pursued the branch of alchemy with great success and became – just like those before him – and extraordinarily gifted and powerful state alchemist. Like his father, he married beneath his own social status but Augusta was everything the wife of the Armstrong-heir had to be – and probably even more. Where Philippe met his shortcomings and where he failed, she just began – and together, they brought a new era of greatness to the family.

Their firstborn, Olivier, could not have been named anymore fitting. She was a nearly perfect copy of their infamous ancestor – just as skilled with the sword and equally uninterested in having the life of a normal woman. That she would have a greater career in the military than all of her ancestors combined was a fact from the day she entered the academy. Her instructors gave her twelve years to reach the position of a brigade general and she was faster than this.
Her thirtieth birthday came around and she was already a major general with good perspectives of becoming a lieutenant general one day soon. Her work on the border to Drachma might not have been as appreciate as the services of a state alchemist in Ishbal but for her, this was alright because the Ishbalan War of Annihilation still left a bad taste in her mouth whenever she thought about it – which was not often because it reminded her of her brother's failure and this only served to make her mad and she really believed that this anger was a weakness.

Amue and Strongine had never understood the dismay their elder sister had towards their only brother. They saw both of them as they were, unbiased because they loved and cared for both their siblings. To them, Olivier was the rebirth of everything the family had once been proud of – tactical skill, strength and high intelligence combined with a sharp attitude. Alex, on the other hand, had inherited the softer trademarks – he was just as intelligent and also a brilliant tactician but he cared deeply for so many things. They were both classical Armstrongs in their different ways and sometimes, they truly wished that Olivier would see Alex as her equal.

Alex had been painfully aware of the disappointment he had been for his family in the war and he only took solace from his post-war-therapist who repeated over and over again that declining an order took more strength than blindly following them and that he was more of a hero than Roy Mustang and that he was sure as hell no coward. He wanted to believe her but she had not been there. She had been in WestCity, safe from the war and the terror, and so he could not believe that she truly understood what he had went through.
No matter what, she was the one to prevent him from committing suicide right after the war because she dragged him through three hospitals to see little babies and reminded him that no matter what had happened, life went on and that he was not cowardly enough to quit now.

Catherine was not as unbiased as her sisters. She hardly knew Olivier due the age difference but what she had seen was a cold woman, a woman who cared about nothing but the her own reputation and she knew Alex a lot better because he was always at home and helped her when she needed assistance with her drawings and her other artistic hobbies. She adored her brother and simply could not understand why Olivier looked down on him like this when all he wanted was a little bit of recognition from her.

But then, the despised Promised Day came around.

And suddenly, Olivier had to admit that Alex was a lot more like her than she had ever wanted to believe. She had expected him to run as soon as Briggs started to attack Central City – and not to stay back and fight against the corrupted regime. She had been expected him to be as much of a coward as he had been in Ishbal and yet, she watched how he fearlessly took on the gigantic monster Sloth even though he was already injured.

But then again, he was the one who always ran around to tell the entire world about the ways and the greatness of their family and it was high time for him to live the way of all their ancestors. He had been hiding behind the fame and the reputation of their family ever since the war when he had basically given up his individuality by claiming that everything had been passed down in the Armstrong-family for generations.

She was even a little bit proud of him as he faced the monster with the same fearless attitude as one of her own soldiers would but she quickly slapped away this thought because there was a battle going on and she would sure as hell not revaluate her opinion on her brother while she was fighting a homunculus – because unlike some – cough, Mustang, cough – she had her priorities set straight and would not fail as pathetically as the Flame Alchemist.

Alex had been surprised at the lack of snide remarks from his sister lately but who was he to complain? There was a fight going on and he would not surrender. He demonstrate his will, his will to be just as good as those before him and come hell or high water, he would get his sister out of this alive. This was not Ishbal. This was not pointless violence against innocents, against harmless children, pregnant women and old people who merely wanted to live in peace. This was a fight against a monster, against the most terrible thing alchemy had ever created and as an alchemist, it was his duty to fight against this creature to save his sister and those soldiers.

And then, within a few more moments, the housewife and her husband arrived and Sloth met his end faster than he could run.

There were two things about this that bother Olivier greatly. First of all, Alex had saved her life and secondly, she owed him now. She had never believed that this day might come, the day she would depend on him for anything. She was older. She was stronger than him, had reached far more in her career. He was stuck at his original rank as major while she had hurried through the ranks like it was nothing. Then again, she had benefitted from the civil war because with soldiers dying on all the battlefields, she had been promoted whenever a post had opened up for her.

The entire battle ended a few hours later. Central Command and a good part of the entire city was destroyed, soldiers were dead and families had been ripped apart.

And there he was. Alex sat on a bench in the miraculously unharmed hospital, waiting for a doctor to tell him that he could go home now and watched how Rebecca Catalina hurried through the hallways, dragging a confused Maria Ross behind as Denny Brosh ran after them, carrying their bags. It seemed like they had already been discharged and were on their way to their respective homes now. He smiled in spite of the pain in his shoulders. That his lieutenant was back would do wonders to his sergeant's work ethic and he would no longer have to worry about Brosh's depression.

He looked up as he heard the sound of heavy boots and a sword hitting the walls again and again – only to see Olivier approaching him in her usual, purposefully intimidating stride. She stopped in front of him, punching his shoulder hard enough to cause one hell of a bruise. "Good job," she said awkwardly and he realised that this punch had been her socially awkward way of signalling that he had done something she approved of.

This was a first. This was the very first time she approved of something he had done since he had been a little boy and just succeeded his very first transmutation. He had no words to describe how light he suddenly felt. His long time goal of making his sister see that he was not the coward she had seen him as since the war was suddenly fulfilled and a burden heavier than the entire Briggs had been lifted from his shoulders and now he knew that there was still hope left.

"Thank you," he said as the developing bruise suddenly felt like a decoration he had received for his service for the sake and honour of the family.

They still were not the greatest friends but for the very first time, they looked into each other's eyes to see an equal.