A/N Again, just a test story. I got bored one night and had a bit of creative demand. If you like it, please let me know. If you don't, please let me know. If you think there could be any improvements towards the characters/storyline/etc, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. M'kay, with love -Champ.

Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Just the Catalina family.

Dinner went better than she would have ever expected.

The hall was much brighter than the staircase, and it was much homier than the rest of the mansion. The massive fireplace lit up the entirety of the room, the heat from the fire wrapping around her even as the spring air flowed from the opened windows. She watched, almost helplessly, as the men started towards the front of the table, pulling out the long wooden chairs and sliding into them with ease. Slowly, Alyvia pulled her own chair out, ignoring the Knight of Iron's help and sitting down, swooping her dress underneath of her. Food became prominent on the table, the meats and hoards of different breads spreading out like a tablecloth, no spare piece of room laid out in front of them for their own plates.

"I hear your men have been training for a war?" Her father asked, his gaze tight as he stared at the knights greedily dug into their meals. The color that spread across the table from the candles above their heads shone against the Knight of Fullmetal's hair. Alyvia cursed at herself; she couldn't be staring at him again, could she? It was hard to take her eyes off of him, with all of the unusual things he wore or carried. That, and he hadn't said a single word to anyone, not even to her brother.

Tearing at his meat, the Knight of Iron—Alphonse—made time to answer. "Yes, my lord. Another war is imminent, sadly. After what happened in the years prior to our becoming of knights, I was so sure we wouldn't be dragged into another war. And so quickly, too." His golden gaze also met hers, his chapped lips turning up in

Jon looked like he was going to scream, looked like he was going to raise up his own banners and strike a sword through the enemy. His brow was furrowed in frustration, his gaze on his food that he'd barely touched instead of his guests. She wondered whether or not her brother would join in if there was another war. If he did, would he be a good fighter? He could easily take down Mason and Hunter, but a trained knight in the royal army? She wondered if the so called Knight of Fullmetal could defeat him, or how long it would take for her brother to defeat him.

Her own dinner was petite. A basil salad with fresh fruits hidden in the luscious leaves; something her own handmaiden had fixed, something that she disliked immensely. She wanted the meats that the men ate as they stuffed their face. She wanted the same type of ale they drank to wash down their full mouths. She wanted her own freedom, and if it was freedom she desired, she had to get away.

She hardly even realized the Knight of Fullmetal was watching her as she twined the basil leaves onto her silverware, sipping at the red wine in her cup. His head was tilted, his eyes calculating. If he hadn't been smiling, she would have figured he was angry with her. He looked struck by a force that was so calculating, so observant. Alyvia gave him a pressed smile before burying her gaze into the colorful basil as the night sky and moonlight spread over the table.

"A war would corrupt the government," Mason said after his feast was finished and the only thing in his hands was his mug of ale. "It happened like that the last time we went to war." Alyvia's gaze rose, her interest in the subject returning. This was the kind of talk she could stand; instead of prim and proper attitudes as a lady should learn, she found herself adoring the schematics of a battle.

Alphonse took his own sip of drink before setting the mug on the table. He looked completely full as he leaned back in his chair. The grim smile on his face had appeared with the topic. "Ah, but the King is so sure that the war wouldn't destroy us this time. He says that a surprise could contain the fire of rebellion and severely weaken our enemies."

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "You're both wrong."

A hush fell across the table, everyone in the room freezing with the sound of her voice. The servant pouring her father's drink once more nearly spilled his ale over the top. Her brothers stared at her incredulously, their eyes widening one by one. She felt her face grow red with surprise and shock and cleared her throat subconsciously. Idiot. She was a complete and utter idiot, and she was sure to be stuck in her room again for a longer time than she so desired.

"And you're right."

She jerked at the sound of his voice, glancing across the table where the Knight of Fullmetal sat with his arms crossed. He looked neither surprised nor full, as if he had limited himself to only so much. Alyvia's brow rose, confused, but even more surprised at the sound of his voice. Those had to be the first words he'd spoken, other than his blunt greeting. She gave him a small nod and he returned it, before turning to the still shell-shocked men. As he spoke, she found herself holding her breath. "This government uses wars as a distraction. They send their greatest knights off to do most of the killing while there is a shift. By the time the war is over, the government has shifted and the people hardly care to notice they have a different ruler. Ishval was an exception."

"Brother," Alphonse interrupted, his golden eyes stern. Alyvia broke her gaze from the Knight of Fullmetal's and met the younger brother's wrath. Before anyone could comment on it, however, his smile was back, as if pressed and forced. His older brother was still stoic on the top, his control on his emotion returned.

"May I be excused?" Alyvia asked, even though she wanted to get more immersed in the politics and talk of war around her. There was an obvious lull in the talk with her in the room and she didn't want to keep them from talking, to be a bad host. Her father gave a stern nod, his eyes narrowed angrily. With a gulp she turned back to the guests. "Thank you for your interesting discussion over dinner. I'm afraid it's time I retired for the night."

That wasn't what she was going to do, and Jon knew it. From one simple look in his eyes, she knew he understood where she was going and why she was going to do it. She couldn't stand to be around her father when he hosted guests; he was much more cruel than normal. She stood from the table, brushed off the orange silk that clung to her, and moved out of the room. She wasn't three steps up the stairs when they began to discuss the war once more.

Alyvia had dismissed her handmaiden before her climb and snuck into her room. Even the person closest to her couldn't comfort her when she was angry. Furious, she slid out of her dress and tugged on the leather tunic and pants that didn't contain her, which gave her just as much freedom of movement than she could ever feel. There was a quiet lull in the room as she flung open the balcony door and climbed onto the stone surrounded the balcony. With a heave, she grabbed onto to the stone of the roof and dragged herself up. Her muscles screamed as she felt the bruises she'd acquired from the day earlier make themselves prominent. But, thanks to that exact muscle, she was able to stand on the edge of her world, staring out at the beauty of her home.

It wasn't really something she hated. She loved her family and loved her home. It was just the level of control that had over her. The entire world was at her grasp as she stared out at the world. She could leave. She could take her horse and abandon the family and die a free woman. But she couldn't, at the same time. She was born into a family of wealth and riches, she'd been trained a woman of royalty. Even if it didn't fit her, it was what she was born to do.

"You planning on running away?" Jon's gruff voice scared her more than it should have. She glanced down at him standing on the balcony, leaning against the stone. His eyes were on her, the light from her bedroom casting flickering shadows across his narrow face. Even the color of his eyes was vibrant in the darkness of the night, the brown in the showing no other emotion but sadness. Alyvia tucked her legs underneath of her, unable to meet his gaze. "Come on, Lyv, tell me what's wrong."

"I hate this." She spat, her green eyes meeting his as she slid to the edge of the roof. "I hate the thought of being prim and proper and I hate everything this family has become. I hate it when Father gets pissy because I speak my mind. I hate not being able to do what I want when I want to." The unspoken anger she felt as she hissed at him laced her words, the frustration and anxiety spilling from her lips as the wind ruffled her words away. "I won't run away though. I'm not a coward."

Another stoic silence from her oldest brother, his eyes crinkling in thought. Alyvia cursed in her head. She hated when he got quiet because she always ended up with a lecture about family responsibility. However, this time, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his gaze meeting hers once more. Exhaustion poured from around him. "You know I check your room every night before going to bed?"

Confusion spread through her like a wildfire, and intrigued, she hopped off of the roof and onto the balcony railing. Jon flinched, leaning forward to catch her before she fell, but Alyvia trusted her balance and managed to stay straight without his help at all. When he found her standing above him, he smirked- something she rarely saw from him- and shook his head. "Why do you do that?" She asked, swinging her legs onto firm ground.

"Because I'm the most worried you'll run away. You're my little sister. I care too much about you." His smirk changed to the pressed smile he wore around guests. Alyvia's heart fell as the humored glint in his eyes disappeared, and the worn down man she knew to be her brother returned. It was another thing she hated about her home; everything around her was so fake. "It would be different without you around here."

Before thinking, she threw her arms around him. Screw everything in the world. Screw the Knight of Fullmetal and his infatuated brother. Screw her tightly nerved father who wanted to marry her off for his own gains. Screw her handmaiden who would throw herself at the nearest man possible just out of belief that he would love her and protect her. She couldn't stand to see her brother so tired, couldn't stand to see him losing his mind just for her. He was the only one she could stand in this house, and losing him would be the death of her.