A/N: Mornin' here! This is another intrusion of mine in the FmA series, which I consider one of the best there is, this time focusing on the Briggs dynamics. It will have several chapters and it will be part of a series of two stories. This is the first part, about what happened between Miles and Olivier Armstrong before the Promised Day, and how they have prepared along with their allies and subordinates and later participated in it.
I hope that you will enjoy it and I would really love to hear what you think about it. Please, leave me some feedback and thank you very much for giving this a shot!
Warnings, because they are needed – this is a work that will contain mature themes. This contains LivMiles (Olivier Mira Armstrong/Miles) and it is rated for all that comes with it.
Disclaimer, that thing we have to write every time for the obvious reasons – I don't own anything that has to do with Fullmetal Alchemist besides the plot of this fanfiction and the OCs that will appear. In rest, nothing at all.

Full summary, since it has way too many characters to be posted as it is - With his unexpected transfer to the Northern border of Amestris, Miles discovered that things were not always as they appeared to be, especially in the case of the seemingly unmovable commander of the Briggs Fortification, Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong. By the force of hazard, he unveiled the many faces of the woman no one saw as more than a brilliant statue covered in solid gold, shiny and beautiful, yet unapproachable and cold, always standing tall on top of her wall of ice and stone.

And, now that I've made the introductions, let's get on with it...

Chapter 1 - The New Office

"North City! North City, coming up!" the old conductor announced loudly and left the wagon, wind gushing in as he closed the door to the compartment.

People started getting up on their feet, preparing to descend at the following station. Almost everyone disembarked there - it was one of the last stations in the line, after all.

The weather was rather chilly for that early day of spring, but it has always been colder in the North. Amestris was a large country, summing up all the possible kinds of climates, from the scorching desert to the alpine scenery, but nothing could be compared to the great unmerciful land that went past the fairly cosy North City, the last large settlement before the extreme wilderness began. The few little villages that were located in the said part of the nation were uninhibited during winter, when the low temperatures would freeze the locals, not to mention the unprepared wanderer.

In the station that followed North City, the entire train went down the creaky metal stairs of the wagons and into the dry wind of the afternoon. Only one person remained, a man well bundled in a dark great coat trimmed with white fur. He was sleeping peacefully with his cheek pressed against the cool glass of the window by his side, his feet resting carelessly on top of a leather suitcase.

The man's long white hair has escaped from his high ponytail sometime during the trip and it has slipped over his dark skin, creating a dazzling contrast. His mouth was slightly agape and he snored softly, evidently exhausted from whatever he has been doing the previous days.

The train got to its final stop and the man was still sleeping like nothing has happened. Luckily, the conductor made one final check before he'd have rang the bell to announce they could return to the depot at the other end of the line. The old railways worker smiled at the sleeping young man and gently shook his shoulder.

At once, the dark skinned man's eyes snapped open and his hand darted to his belt, where a white leather scabbard covered a gun. The conductor patted him in an attempt to calm him down. "Sorry to wake you up, son, but it's the last stop."

The passenger blinked, his red eyes so bleary they couldn't focus a single image. His vision soon returned and he let go of the hidden weapon. "I'm so sorry, Sir!" he said apologetically and unconsciously grabbed the worker's hand. He shook it firmly and then jumped to his feet. He hastily retied his loose hair and grabbed his suitcase from the floor. "Thank you so much for waking me up, I'm sorry for my reaction," he made politely and tilted his head to the smaller man. "Have a good day, Sir," he added and hopped off the train, his long overcoat swinging about his feet. He looked at his watch and felt a vein in his temple throb anxiously. "Oh, fuck, I'm so going to be late!" he cursed and measured up the mountain that stood proudly in the distance.

It was so damn far away.

He turned on his heels, his heavy boots surprisingly steady on the snow that was covering the station's refuge, and looked up at the old conductor. "Excuse me, Sir, but is that the way to the military road?"

"You want to get to Briggs, ey?" the railways worker assumed. "Yes, son, that's the road, right where you see the barbed wire up there. But you should be careful and follow the path, it will be night before you know it and these mountains are dangerous."

"Thank you a lot, Sir," the younger man said and smiled, his crimson eyes crinkling as he struggled to see in the whiteness that surrounded them. He saluted formally and started making his way through the powdery snow.

The old conductor shook his head at the departing figure. "Poor fellow, he doesn't know where he's landed," he grunted and returned to the safety of the train wagon.

Captain Miles, the train passenger, advanced surely toward the sign that clearly wrote 'FORT BRIGGS' in red letters. That was where he was headed to, his new post for who knew how long. He snuggled better inside his warm coat and started pacing forward, passing into the military controlled land.

No longer than a week before, he was announced by his commanding officer, one of the most incompetent men he has ever had the displeasure to encounter, that he was being promoted to the rank of Captain. That was brilliant news to Miles, who not only had graduated at the top of his class in the Academy, but had earned ranks in his young age so effortlessly because of his aptitudes. He didn't do what he would have wanted at first, having to take part in brutal missions that didn't make him proud of himself, but soon after, he found himself a good spot that brought him certain satisfaction with his work.

Just when he was certain that the army finally appreciated a keen mind and great skills, he stumbled into the most idiotic officer he could have found in the entire Eastern Command, a narrow-sighted dilettante with a warm place in the military, comfortably secured by his father, some General from Central. And that was when his surprising advance through the ranks halted like it has been hit by the train.

He has apparently bothered the pocket officer with his remarks and helpful advice in missions. Miles has saved many soldier lives with his points, but his superior officer started to feel threatened by his intelligence. With a few well-aimed tips, the incompetent managed to get rid of his bright subordinate, whom others liked quite a lot.

That was why, along with his much deserved promotion that should have come a long time before, Miles received a letter which announced him he had been reassigned to fort Briggs, all the way up North. Lieutenant General Grumman protested against his relocation, wanting to transfer him to his base in the East City, but Central Command didn't even listen to his proposition. It appeared that the quarter Ishbalan had stepped on some serious nerves.

As much as he felt flattered that another high ranked officer tried to take him for his utility, Miles wasn't all that happy with his new position. He had been promoted, alright, but what would be the real price of his big mouth? He's heard so many stories about Briggs, one more terrifying than the other, but what scared him the most was something that didn't have anything to do with the climate or the potential frostbites.

What made the stories about Briggs so horrifying weren't by any means the weather or the nasty conditions - it was the commander. First of all, it was a woman, something unheard of throughout the Amestrian military. That didn't bother Miles in the slightest, he has always known how to act with all kinds of persons from both genders, but she didn't sound like anyone he has ever encountered.

Major General Armstrong was very young for her position and he's heard that she was quite lovely to the eye, but whatever rumours reached him didn't continue as nicely. She was ruthless and cold, almost inhumanely so. In not even two years after she had been assigned to Briggs – where he guessed she has gotten to because she had angered someone, just like him – she had not only advanced ranks because those above her died in stupid accidents or had to be discharged, she had become the commander of one of the most dangerous posts in the country. She had literally sent the former commanders from her time in caskets with the simple annotation that they weren't prepared to face the North.

No one dared to imply that she had a hand in the suspicious circulation of commanders because it was a well-known fact that some didn't survive serving in the extreme North. Moreover, ever since she has received the post, Briggs has turned into a properly oiled machine, well-tuned and very efficient. Those who bothered their superiors were still sent there from time to time, but the quality of training and the security of the land increased exponentially, just like it had been before it has lost some of its shine. If not better.

The fort had passed through a bit of a difficult period not too long before she had arrived there due to improper restructuration, but in less than a year of command, Armstrong had successfully transformed Briggs back into the greatest fortification there was in the entire country. After that, the fort's reputation only escalated. Miles admired her just for that, but he wasn't sure how well he'd adapt to her. She didn't sound like one to pat your back and tell you all will be fine – which, for some reason, he thought he might want to hear in that hell-hole.

He walked forward, careful not to lose the path. It was true, night was slowly creeping up and it was getting harder to see, but he didn't lose his drive. The previous week had been infernal for him, because he had to leave his work in order, though his slumber in the train has worked wonders on his state of mind. He was confident that he would survive even the harsh female commander if he stayed positive.

His confidence started to drop when night finally fell and wind picked up alarmingly fast. Before he faced anyone, he had to get to the fort. He was surprised that no one waited for him at the base of the mountain, but he guessed that was all part of some elaborate assertion of character. He took out his flashlight and advanced, using his knowledge about desert sand on the snowy road. It was amazing how similar they both were. He's spent his childhood in Ishbal and he's walked its extensive dunes from top to bottom - he had enough experience with powdered grounds and the likes.

After what felt like an eternity, Miles made out the huge wall that formed the fortification. It was impressive, indeed, standing tall and proud at the Northern border of the country.

He soon reached the front entrance, guarded by a brick barrack. The door opened and a huge man ducked under the frame. "Shit, mate, what you're doing out so late?" he asked, but he didn't sound awfully surprised, like he was expecting to see him. He pulled Miles inside. "Are you daft or something?"

Miles shook his head and raised his arms. "Hold it there, officer! I was told to arrive here today, so I arrived here today."

"You're Captain Miles, right?" the huge soldier assumed. Suddenly, his face twisted into a huge grin and he patted him on the shoulder, more like he tried to dislocate it than anything else. "Good to meet you, Sir, I'm Lieutenant Buccaneer! The Major General requested for me to wait for you."

"Here?"

"Evidently, Sir," Buccaneer retorted. "I've only followed the queen's orders. She said she wanted to see if you can find your way here. Seems to me that you could," he said with a shrug.

Miles watched the larger officer with incredulity. That was quite the welcome, having to make his way blindly to the middle of nowhere. He wondered if that was the customary way up there or if it was just his case. He hoped the former, because if it wasn't so, he had something else coming.

"I'll take you to the commander, Sir, just follow me," the Lieutenant made and motioned for him. He waved at the other soldiers in the barrack and went inside the fort.

Miles followed him, shivering as he was slowly adapting to the change of temperature. Outside, it was cringingly cold, yet inside, it was bearable. Once his body got used to it, he dared notice that it was pleasantly warm.

He fell into step with the large Lieutenant, whose long braid swung with each step. The loose end was tied with a small pinkish bow which wasn't very well done, but it definitely stood out. The man didn't wear any gloves – he held them in his breast pocket. He noticed that one of his hands was made from automail, but he didn't think it would be kind to ask how he has gotten it. Miles settled with trying to learn more about the fort's ways. "You've called the Major General a 'queen'. Is that her nickname?"

Buccaneer chuckled. "Aye, you'll soon find that out for yourself, Captain, we're almost there."

They weren't by any means 'almost there'. The fort was humongous and had so many corridors and doors looking identical, it was impossible not to get lost. Miles carefully made a map of all he's seen inside his head. He had good memory and it seemed he would have to make use of it really soon if he wanted to find anything in there.

After a long journey through the bowels of the fort and up its many stairs, they reached a double door that read 'Office' and nothing more. Buccaneer knocked and a voice replied monotonously, "Enter."

Inside, behind a cramped up desk, a blonde woman was writing fervently in a thick register. She didn't look up from her papers, but she acknowledged their presence with the tilt of her head.

"I've brought Captain Miles, Sir," the Lieutenant said casually and pointed to the other man.

The woman stopped her scribbling and looked up, her only visible eye so blue it could have matched the clearest of skies. "Ah, Captain, so good of you to join us," she made unimpressed and turned her gaze to the Lieutenant. "That would be all, Buccaneer, go check on the idiots with the icicles," she said evenly.

"Yes, Sir," the huge man retorted and left the room after saluting with the back of his hand.

The Major General was so different from what Miles has imagined. She didn't look like the manly figure he has envisioned. On the contrary, she was quite a short woman with long, overflowing hair, curled at the tips but otherwise pretty straight. Her skin was very pale and her lips were enticingly full, yet he highly doubted she was the kind to enjoy compliments on her appearance. She was nice to look at, that much was obvious, but she had a deadly glint in her cerulean eyes.

They didn't spark right to him.

She put her elbows on the tabletop and lowered her head on the back of her gloved hands, watching him critically. She appeared to be examining him, and she did it rather clinically.

It was starting to get uncomfortable when she leaned back on her chair. "So, you're the Captain who's upset the Command," she said, her voice low. "I see, then. Well, I must admit I'm impressed you've showed up this evening, I thought you'd stay in the city until morning."

"I followed my orders," Miles replied and, after some thought, he added, "Sir."

"Ah, you're perceptive. That's good. So, tell me, Captain," Armstrong started, "do you know why you're here?"

Miles straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. He looked straight into the woman's eyes, a daring gesture, but necessary if he wanted to make a good impression. She seemed to appreciate that, because she let out a little chuckle. "So you know, then! Well, Captain, it seems you have bothered some higher-ups, and that is exactly what I am looking for."

"Excuse me?" he asked, a little confused.

"I have been looking for someone capable for a long while, and when I've heard about your case, I knew you'd be the best man for the job. Your determination to get here in this weather won you some valuable points and I think you will fit well, indeed," Armstrong continued. "Tell me, Captain Miles," she said his name almost mockingly, "how would you like to be my assistant?"

His red eyes flinched. The woman was clearly mad, she didn't know a thing about him, but she wanted him to be her assistant. He doubted that was the way things worked. "Sir, I'd be honoured by the proposition, but-"

"I don't take 'but's, Captain. I have no time to waste on them. I want to know if you think yourself capable of being my helpful hand. You might know that you are the highest ranked in here besides me, but I have no problem with trimming the lines. What I want is a decision. A fast decision. So, are you up for the job, or not?"

She talked very certain of herself, making Miles believe she knew more than she let. For some reason, he sensed her steely gaze could read into his mind and he suddenly felt interested. His new place would be challenging, to say the least, but he was sure he was more than ready for it. He had no idea what it would mean or what he would have to do, but he could learn how to play that game on the go.

"So, your answer?" she demanded coolly, fixating him with her electric gaze.

"Yes, Sir, I accept the position."

It wasn't hard to understand why Buccaneer called her a 'queen', when her presence oozed all that power concentrated in one small frame. Miles didn't know what he has gotten himself into, but he felt that his intelligence would be at last appreciated at its true value.

At last.

A/N: Ta-da! This is the first chapter and I hope that you've enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought of it, I really appreciate feedback.
If you are interested, I have written other stories with this pair. You can check them on my profile. Other than this, thank you very much for reading!
Until the next time, bye-bye!