"... What the fuck?"
The Major General stood, dumbfounded, at the sight she saw before her.
As the circle of soldiers parted to let her through, they nervously exchanged glances. They feared for how their commander would react; even more so how she would actually respond to the situation.
In the snow, a soldier crouched. He was kneeling, though bent forward with his arms drawn to his chest. His labored breathing sent puffs of smoke into the freezing air. One would have suspected that, perhaps, he was wounded on his torso and he was merely clutching the wound. It wasn't an unfamiliar position to men of this war-torn region, after all. However, he met Olivier's stare as she stepped forward. His eyes didn't show anger or pain; merely a hopeless mix of fear and, most of all, confusion. He straightened slightly to show the officer what lay in his arms.
It was a small child. Alive, obviously- but very distressed; wrapped in thick fur with small, scrunched up eyebrows that gave it a look of discomfort.
Behind them, several other soldiers continued to drag the bodies into the fort behind them.
"Where did you find this?" Olivier snapped, without even thinking. She didn't care for children in the slightest, but this was the last place on Earth a baby needed to be. Her tone only served to make the baby whine and her soldiers simultaneously flinch.
The soldier shakily saluted her from the ground, not wishing to anger her further by a lack of protocol, "those two Drachmans had her with them, Sir."
The general opened her mouth to interrogate him further, but another soldier spoke before she could- "A man and woman, General. They were unarmed, but it is very obvious where they came from."
Olivier pursed her lips, not liking that fact one bit. She didn't advocate for the brutal murder of the unarmed, yet the full story remained a mystery to all of them. As a result, she didn't voice her feeling.
"It doesn't have a bomb strapped to it or anything, does it?" She asked flatly, eyeing the small stranger. A shake of the head from the soldier on the ground was her reply; to which she spun on her heels and started back for the fort. "I suppose we can't leave the thing outside. All of you get back in the fort immediately- there could be more out there and I don't want you lot standing around like absolute idiots just waiting for a bullet in your head."
Miles had remained behind her for the entire event, just eyeing the baby in sheer shock. Having a warmer heart than his commander, he hurried to help the soldier with the small bundle inside the steel fortress, making sure not to stray too far behind the general.
Several deep booms from the mortars on the roof were capable of sending small tremors even to the ground floor of the fort. The floor shook slightly beneath the boots of the Briggs soldiers as they hurried inside, the alarm still blaring since the coast was not yet clear. "I have to go back up topside," Olivier suddenly turned to her adjutant, mid-step up a flight of stairs. The major, used to the general's quick orders, immediately responded with an obedient nod. "Yes, Sir-"
"Take that kid to Doc," she suddenly ordered, turning and sprinting up the stairs before Miles even had a moment to mentally process he words. He turned slightly to look at the soldier who was carrying the child (who hadn't been given any orders yet- so he simply followed the commander and her adjutant like a lost puppy). The two men made eye contact before simultaneously lowering their gaze to the small life, who was just beginning to squirm and hiccup the beginnings of a cry due to the loud, booming noise.
"I'll take her," Miles spoke, trying to make his voice as comforting as possible. He, personally, liked children, and feared for the little one's safety. The soldier nodded quickly, handling the bundle of furs to the major as carefully as he could. "Go help them all up on the roof."
The soldier hurried off after a swift nod and salute. Miles, taking steps as cautiously as possible down the stairs, made his way past frantic soldiers and officers yelling orders until he made it back down to the ground floor once again. He held the small bundle close to him, attempting to muffle as much noise for the baby as possible. His mind raced, was she even going to live? She seemed to be bundled fairly well in the thick furs... Was this bear fur?
He found himself in front of the medical facility. He pushed one of the doors open to witness the lead doctor and her staff hurrying to prepare supplies for any wounded soldiers; a typical sight in the event of an attack. Several rushed past him with bags of already-loaded equipment, most likely to tend to any soldiers already injured outside of the building. "Doctor," he spoke up, catching her attention. She immediately looked up at him, a small gasp escaping her as she immediately spotted the child. "Where did you..?" she whispered, automatically trying to be quiet, though it did little good among the siren.
"She was with several Drachmans we killed. They had crossed the border and were approaching the fort," he said quickly, as if in an attempt to justify the fort's actions. He, of all people, despised the killing of the unarmed and most likely innocent. Sights of Ishval's ruin raced through his memory as he tried to make sense of everything.
The doctor spoke, but his momentary flashback clouded his attention. Of all of the horrors of the Ishvalan campaign, the one that struck his heart the sharpest was watching children crying in the street, dirtied and parent-less- or worse. He blinked his red eyes several times- the action guarded by his snowblindness goggles- as he regained his composure. "Hand her to me, Major," the doctor spoke, her tone slightly annoyed as if she had been repeating herself.
"Right," Miles breathed, his word a mere whisper as he carefully handed the baby over. He watched his silence as she lifted a tiny fist, a close-mouthed whine escaping her. A new idea bloomed in the soldier's mind, "Excuse me, Doctor, but I need to go help the defense."
The doctor nodded in reply as she immediately began to tend to the child, checking her vitals. Miles quietly slipped out of the infirmary. He made his way to the nearest phone, his path rather uninhibited due to the fact that most of the soldiers were guarding the fort now rather than scrambling around inside. He quietly made a call.
The alarm finally grew silent as the threat was disposed of. Soldiers, murmuring to each other about the attack, returned to their posts. Olivier remained up top with the cannons and several senior officers for about an hour or so, scoping the landscape and making sure that no enemies remained.
After the child was taken in, a new round of attacks started. Several Drachman tanks rolled up through the snow, shooting at the steel walls of the fort. Their numbers were small, however, and no major damage was taken save for several dents. Brigg's cannons, with the higher ground, and skilled snipers made quick work of their uniformed opponents.
One question still remained, however.
"General," Miles saluted to her. His chest heaved after running up the stairs as his red eyes looked down at her back. He felt a bead of sweat run down his temple despite being in freezing conditions; he didn't know how she would react to what he had done. She was looking through a pair of binoculars, her attention sharply focused on the snowy horizon and the debris from the Drachman tanks.
He only noticed after a brief moment that he was doing something rather sinful. As he stared at the back of her head and awaited her response, right arm stiff in a salute, his gaze had lowered. Her figure was shrouded by the heavy coat that all Briggs soldiers wore, but the illusion was slightly disrupted by how the D-rings fit the coat tightly to the curve of her waist- proving that there was, indeed, a very womanly form beneath the heavy layers. He had always ignored the smirks and mutterings of his fellow soldiers about the general. It was no secret that many of them found her attractive and joked about her sensual quirks, if any. There was a "humorous" (Miles didn't find it funny) rumor that one soldier was once given the eternal gift of being with her in bed once, only to be never seen again.
While the thought of the soldier's antics brought a scowl to the major's face, he couldn't help but be a hypocrite. While he would never admit it, he found her to be immensely attractive as well, but her beauty extended beyond being skin-deep to him. He wished that he didn't blossom with warmth every time she would brush past him, their contact causing his dark face to flush. He wished that he didn't notice how round and soft her face was, how blue her eyes were, how full her lips were... Or how much he wished to be with her.
Even if not in a carnal way, he wanted to be with her. His love- he hated to admit- was beyond a physical need. He saw through her beauty and saw the strength and power beneath. Her resolve and goals were something to be admired. She wasn't unlike him, in a way. While he grew up as a low-class mutt, she was bred and of pure, wealthy blood. Despite there being every physical difference between them imaginable, they were both discarded by everyone from an early age. Miles wasn't accepted in either the Amestrian or Ishvalan cultures- he looked Ishvalan, but did not grow up with the rituals and religion. Similarly, Olivier was looked down upon for her goals. She was meant to breed and look pretty, just as her wealthy ancestors had done before her. Nonetheless, she joined the Military Officer's Academy as soon as she was old enough, despite the nasty looks she received from everyone who knew her. Fools, Miles thought when Olivier shared her past with him. I bet they all feel stupid, now that their perfect and delicate Armstrong girl has grown into one of the most powerful military officials of Amestris.
That's partially why he loved her so. She knew the heartbreak that accompanied the breaking of barriers. Even she was able to break his negative disillusionment with the military upon their meeting. She was strong, and beautiful, and intelligent, and she was the definition of independence.
Still, he couldn't help but sneak sideways glances at her every once in a while. He would smile gently at the thought. He probably saw more of what she kept guarded than any other human ever had, simply because he was her adjutant and she trusted him with her life. Sometimes, he would catch a smile pull at her lips when he'd make a dry joke about the officials down in Central, or he'd pull a grimace as he sipped some nasty coffee. Sometimes they would talk quietly in her office when no work needed to be done, sharing goals and aspirations and stories from the pasts they'd both wish to forget. When the heating in the fort was in a good way, sometimes she'd shed her coat as they did paperwork in her office, and he'd catch a more accurate glimpse of her figure. Sometimes, she'd complain quietly about how her uniform wouldn't fit her anymore and she should lose some weight. He'd gently reassure her that she's an officer in the military, and thus she has muscle that doesn't give the illusion of a thin form. She'd grumble to herself, "supposing he was right", though in reality he berated himself for wanting to instead tell her how beautiful he found her to be. Being so close to her even on a platonic level was an honor. Even being able to feel like they were actually friends sometimes was as well.
His eyes drifted a little lower, to her legs which were also covered by her long coat, to her boots. Her feet were small compared to everyone else's, but then again, this fort was full of men.
"Finally you show up, Major," she spoke, her voice sharp as she turned to him, his red irises snapping up to meet hers. They were an icy blue, her thin eyebrows furrowed as she made eye contact. Miles swallowed the lump in his throat. "Where were you," the general frowned, her tone not even a question.
"You didn't give me any exact orders, sir," he replied quietly, still saluting. "I know you prefer me to be near you in times like this, but I had to make sure the child was taken care of first. I gave her to Doc and called in a few things for her from North City."
"What, like a good book and some tea, Major?" Olivier growled. "We have cannon shells in our walls and you were making a gift registry for some unidentified kid-"
"Sir," Miles spoke, his tone calm. It was moments like this where Miles served as a foil to the general, and she'd suddenly realize how angry she sounded. Normally, she wouldn't care, but she honestly hated yelling at her adjutant. Her shoulders visibly relaxed slightly as she waited for him to continue. "I was simply calling in some formula for the baby, sir. We don't know how long she's been without, she could die."
Olivier blinked, the soldiers on either side of her stiffening as they expected her to roar at the major again. Instead, she broke eye contact for a moment, something she rarely did, "I see. I apologize, Major."
The other officer's mouths almost hit the floor. The general never apologized.
Miles nodded, dropping his salute.
The shorter woman paused, glared at the officers, then spoke again, her stark tone returning, "Don't just stand there, you idiots. Clean up this shit." She waved a hand to the spent shells that littered the floor around them. They scrambled around as Olivier motioned Miles to follow her back into the fort.
"How is she?" She asked all of a sudden as they descended. "I couldn't tell, General," Miles replied as he followed her closely. Her classic blonde curls bounced with every step. "She seemed distressed, but I don't think she was hurt or anything."
Olivier nodded, silent as they continued. She wordlessly led him to the infirmary, where the doctors waited. They had all returned from checking the soldiers, and luckily, no one was hurt. They quietly made their way over to a bed in the corner, which the head doctor had made a small makeshift crib for the baby. Olivier peered into the bundle of brown furs, and Miles' heart fluttered for a moment. He had never seen this look on her face. Normally, the general was so sure and confident, and for the first time, her blue eyes were wide with piqued and genuine curiosity. She had talked to Miles about how she had watched her mother have all four of her siblings, so the sight of a baby shouldn't be new to her.
He stood straight as the doctor made her way over. Sensing his question, the doctor spoke up quietly, "Her vitals are good and her stomach seems full, from what we can tell. She's just a little cold, is all."
Miles breathed a sigh of relief, but stiffened when the doctor cleared her throat. "But, you may want to see this," she began, the sentence causing Olivier to straighten as well. The doctor stepped lightly over to the opposite side of the bed and carefully pulled the furs away with delicate fingers.
The general's and major's eyes widened. On the baby's loose wrappings sat bright, intricate reds and purples, but that wasn't the most surprising part. On her chest sat a detailed crest, sporting a bear and wolf motif locked in battle.
It was the Drachman Royal Crest.