If you're one of the lucky, or unlucky, whichever way you look at it, few who were born into Amestris high class, marriage is an important subject. When you're born, your parents will pick out three or so young boys, if your female, or four pregnant couples expecting daughter, if you're male, from a respectable family of equal or higher value, so to say.

The Armstrong's, as rich as they are, stat on top of the chain; their offspring having to marry people of the exact same class. So its a rather hard thing, finding a family of equal class they're not already related to.

So when Philip and Augustus were expecting their first, they'd been looking for months. By the time that their child was born they'd found two candidates, only to realize that they'd broken tradition, having a girl instead of a boy, the talk of marriage became slow and less often.

"Master Armstrong, your daughter." When a smiling midwife presented a small pink bundle to Philip, having not heard what she said, merely thought he was being given practice for holding a baby. Not until five minutes later (Of which he was admiring the girls gold locks and regretting the fact she was born before his son; she'd be a nice daughter-in-law.) did he ask "When shall I see my son?"

He should've noticed the confused glances the midwives and nurses gave him. He shouldn't have made them answer.

"Sir.." One particularly old midwife said cautiously, "Your son is a daughter."

Philip looked back into the pink slumbering bundle with a new train of thought, handed her back to the midwife and excused himself.

The little girls birth was brought with news and gossip from all around. She even caused a large rift in Philip's and Augusta's marriage; Philip certain his wife had cheated on him, that being why there was a daughter instead of a son. Not until nearing three weeks after the birth did he finally agree that it was his daughter. For a month the girl hadn't been named, held by her parents, or even referred to as an Armstrong, the nursemaids and nannies had each come up with a name they called her, all while thinking of her sure to be dreary future.

When the girl (who had by then been named Olivier) had turned three, her mother gave birth to another girl, another failure, another unwanted daughter. Little Olivier started her schooling, etiquette classes for three hours each day, while her father would teach her of war and fighting; trying to make her versatile to be both daughter and son.

The next year came another bundle of unwanted joy. Another daughter to push to the side. Philip was, by then, questioning his fertility and that of his wife. He was also teaching the young Olivier swordsmanship, a technique highly valued by the Armstrong's, one each heir should know well.

Olivier continued with her double learning's up until she was eight, when her mother insisted she attend Finishing school.

On her first visit home from school at Christmas, Olivier came to realize she'd been replaced by her mother and father. Her mother had given birth to a boy, the new heir. And the talk of marriage was becoming more frequent.

"The Miller's have a son, thirteen now, and he's not yet engaged. They're a strictly business family though, no militaristic lineage."

"There are the Blake's boy, both business and military, that family. However they're a class behind us."

"The Parkers son, Lawrence, he's a fine match."

"Yes but they're my second cousins, the Parkers."

By the time Olivier had turned ten, her future was set and hand was taken. A young teenager, Terrance Walsh, a 'lovely find' with an 'extraordinary back round' the marriage would take place when she finished her schooling, about five years later. Until then he courted her on her visits back, keeping correspondence while she was at school.

"He's awfully dreadful!" thirteen year old Olivier complained to her schoolmates as they attracted for ballet. "He's nothing to say for himself and never smiles!"

"He's so handsome though!" Giggled Milly, a mousy haired girl that was still in the awkward stage of her life. "And he's bound to go far!"

"Yes." Olivier agreed with disdain as she took hold of her leg, bringing her head to her knee. "But he's boring and dull!"

"Livvy, you think every man is dull!" Cynthia Miller, a petite girl with raven hair, laughed lowering herself into the splits.

Before Olivier could snap back her retort, their ballet instructor sauntered to the three girls and demanded "Pratiquer vous et pirouettes, ma filles."

"Oui, Madame Bouffee!"

The three girl chorused back, getting up from the floor and preparing for the pirouettes. Under her breath, Olivier replied to Cynthia. "That's because they are, you're just to daft to see it."

After their lesson, the headmistress, a tall graying woman who Olivier thought resembled her mother very much, came to see them.

"Girls, please gather around!" She called, though she really didn't have to as all of them had come to her almost immediately.

"As you know, the debutant ball is coming up in a fortnight, as this years Debutants you are the guest of honours, so to say. This year however, it has been decided that we will be holding our ball with our sister school La Gentil Filles de Amestris. We will be given the chance to prove to our guests just how fine you've become, and this is a possible chance for you to meet suitors, with this as-"

That's right, Mused Olivier blocking out the rest of the Headmistress speech, some of the girl here still haven't been sold by their family..

"Livvy!" Milly said, placing a hand on her shoulder which made Olivier jump. "Is Terrance going to be your escort?"

"I hope not!" Olivier replied with a look of disdain. Both Cynthia and Milly were looking at her with a mixture or confusion and amusement.

Before either of them could muster up any words, Olivier turned her back and walked to her dorm room, not wanting to discuss the ball.

Upon entering her dorm, Olivier was mildly surprised to see that both of her sisters had gathered around her bed.

"What's going on?" Olivier asked, making her way to the small crowd hovering over a letter on pale pink paper.

"Mother and Father have sent for you for a dress fitting for the ball.." ten year old Amue said with a cautious glance at he elder sister.

"And you'll be granted an extra two days off to meet with Terrance!" Strongine said with an excited smile.

"I'll miss my classes!" Olivier stated horrified, she didn't care so much for the classes, but spending two days with Terrance sounded very excruciating.
Tearing the letter from her sisters hands she glanced over it to be sure it wasn't a joke that Amue enjoyed so much.

Dearest Olivier Mira,
Hello dear, how are you? Everything's amazing around home, I'm expecting again and Alex Louis is excelling at alchemy very much. Your fitting is on the 14th, however you father and I would like if you came back home for two days, Terrance misses you dearly.
With love,
Mother

Crumpling the paper up and throwing it in the rubbish bin, Olivier sat down on her bed, picked up her pillow and screamed.

"You've such a small frame, Miss, and a large chest!" The seamstress said with delight, being able to put a few designs on Olivier that she couldn't do her models in. "You've a real nice body, dear!"

"Yes I know." Olivier said with a frown before turning to her mother and complaining. "I don't want to stay for two days. I want to go back to my classes!"

While growing up, Olivier had learnt how to get what she wanted, very easily actually. Her parents spoiled their daughters because of guilt, and they were used to getting what the wanted. They expected nothing else.

Augusta clucked her tongue, holding two shades of maroon up against her daughters cheek. "Olivier, Terrence is going to get days off as a cadet to come to your debutant ball, the least you can do is spend time with him while he has time off. You'll be able to discuss the wedding details too."

Waving her mothers hand away, Olivier glared at her mother. "But my education-"

"Can wait, Olivier." Augusta said with an heir of finality. "You're a bright girl. Besides, you won't have to know those things, you'll be married and Terrence can take care of them."

Olivier clenched her jaw, saying nothing else the entire fitting and it was well into the drive home before she spoke.

"What if I don't marry Terrence?"

Augusta turned her head onto her eldest daughter, her eyes wide with shock. "You have to, why on earth would you ask that question?"

Olivier frowned at her mothers answer. "Well he's dull and boring and there's nothing about him I like."

Augusta puckered her thin lips and replied harshly "You're to marry him Olivier. You're lucky to have gotten him too."

Olivier looked away with a sour face, she'd put an end to it if it was the last thing she'd do.

"Olivier," with a shudder Olivier recognized the voice, Terrence. Feigning deafness, she continued to look at the courtyard with a trained disinterested eye. "Darling."
Terrence had caught up to her now, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Closing her eyes in annoyance, Olivier was pulled around to look at her fiancée. Terrence Walsh. Son of her fathers fellow General and the daughter of the man who had a rather large radio and telephone company, with stark black hair and light grey eyes, she only just reached his shoulder.

"Well dear, how have you been?" He asked with an attempted and failed smile.

"Fine." Was Olivier's stiff reply.

Terrence's eyes flickered with annoyment and he started again "Lovely, what would you like to-"

"Actually," She cut in with an idea "I'm parched, can you please get me a drink?"

Another flicker of annoyment, and he gave another attempted smile. "Of course darling."

Watching him until she couldn't see him any more, Olivier turned her back and ran, she ran past the fountain, past the huge pool, through the hedge maze and kept running until she couldn't run any more.

Heaving and grabbing at her side, she stumbled over to a large willow tree and sat down. Not caring that the dirt would ruin her dress, or that her heels were going to be stained with her blood.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree. It was a nice sensation. Being free..

"You okay?"

Startled, Olivier jumped to her feet, narrowly missing a low branch.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." A blonde haired teen leaned around the base of the tree, apparently having been sitting on the opposite side of the tree. "I swear, If I tried to hurt you I'd probably trip over the roots."

Olivier gave him a glance, scanning all of him that she could see. He had blonde hair, a few shades lighter then hers, and pale green eyes, his skin was the same milky white that hers was, he was, as Milly would say 'Handsome' Olivier decided.

"That doesn't give much confidence." She stated off handily.

The boy let out a bout of laughter and pulled himself up. He was a good foot taller then her, a sturdy build, nothing on her father or Terrence though. Wiping his hands off on his black pants, dress pants, he held out a hand for her to shake. "Sorry about scaring you, just wondering why you were running. I'm Nicholas Cannon by the way."

Olivier regarded his hand with distrust, not bothering to shake it. "Why are you here? It's private property."

Nicholas smiled scratching the back of his head to try and cover the awkwardness. "My family own the house across the street, came to have tea and do business."

Olivier frowned "Prove it."

Nicholas gave a short and odd gesture to his clothes, Olivier's eyes followed his hands and a small part in the back of her brain felt stupid. He was wearing very expensive dress pants, probably custom made, and had on one of those velvet purple vests with a satin tie draped around his neck.

Crossing her arms, Olivier gave him a withering glare, one she'd learnt from her mother scolding the maids.

"Hey, I can go if you want me to, just trying to get away. You know?"
Nicholas raised his hands in surrender.

Before she knew it, Olivier was hurling words at him she didn't even know where they were coming from. "Get away from it? Get away from what! You're a boy, you can do whatever you like! You don't have to go to finishing school, or wed someone you despise and bear his children! You get to be the heir, go out each day and work! You have freedom! And no corsets!"

When she first started her rant, he had taken a step back in shock, never having thought a pretty girl like her would be so upset over a few words. "Sorry about your.. Er.. Gender and all but just because I'm a man doesn't mean I'm not trapped too. I don't want to go into the weapons industry but it's a family thing, you know?"

Olivier stared at him for a few moments, it was as though he had grown another head.. He agreed with her?

"Olivier!"

The both of them turned to see who was coming, Terrence was running towards them with a look of outrage, an empty glass in one hand that had probably been full of water at one time.

"What- huff- is the-puff- meaning- huff- of this?" Terrence panted giving Nicholas a sharp glare.

"It was Uh-" Olivier stated realizing how odd it must've looked, Nicholas with his tie and top button undone, her not where she said she would be, and both of them quite dirty.

"Bee," Nicholas stated, "I left my business meeting to get some air when I saw her being chased by a few bees, so I tried to help."

Oliver's eyes lit up at his lie. "Yes it was awful! They scare me so much, see I heard a rumor that people can die because of them and it just wouldn't leave me alone!" she said putting on those big innocent eyes she knew could get her out of anything.

Terrence opened his mouth to say something, but a glimpse of his fiancée shut him up quickly, bringing one of his massive hands up to brush a leave out of her hair (not noticing how tense she'd gotten when he came near her) he glanced back at Nicholas and with a brief thank you, spun Olivier around and lead her back to the fountains.

"You're alright then?" Terrence asked roughly letting go of her as they past the hedges.

Nodding swiftly, Olivier turned to look at him with the tiniest frown. If that boy, Nicholas, had felt trapped, did her fiancée, Terrence, feel the same way?
Making a mental note to ask him that later as her mother was bustling towards them, maids hurrying after her.

"Livvy! Look at you! What happened, ah Terrence I apologize for my daughters state!" Augusta said hurriedly "Come with me, Livvy. Alison draw a bath." grabbing her daughter by the arm and leading her up the stairs, with a maid rushing before them to prepare a bath, Augusta murmured quickly to Olivier "What are you trying to do! After all this work your father spent trying to find a suitable man for you, you go and ruin it by looking like common trash!"

"It was an accident!" Olivier growled pulling her arm from her mothers grasp. "I didn't mean it to happen!"

"By god, we wouldn't have this much trouble if you'd been born properly, if you'd been a boy!" Augusta said pushing her daughter into her room and turning sharply, leaving Olivier alone with the snap of her door.

If you had been born proper, there it was again Olivier peeled her gloves from her hands, if you had been born a boy. If she had been born proper. Her dress dropped to the ground, only the inter quit lace corsets left. If you were just a male. You'd be such a better child. You're a waste of an Armstrong. A bastard child. She was bare, her eyes brimming with memories of maids whispers, family members snide comments. She had ears! She had feelings! She knew what the meant! The warm water engulfed her, flitted, too, with her salt tears. She stayed until the water turned cold, filling it slowly until it was almost over flowing.

Maybe.. just maybe, she'd have to prove them wrong.

AN, sorry about the cliff hanger, I got lazy. Which is also why theres many grammar mistakes. If you hadn't noticed, I draw many ideas from other authors on here, like Mrs. Armstrongs name(I saw a few fics with that as her name and its now my fanon) or her parents attitude to having a daughter first.. and the society what not. I DO NOT OWN. Anyways, whats your thought on it? Good, bad? Please tell me.