Work Text:
It was not an unusual occurrence for Miles Edgeworth to, every now and again, visit Phoenix Wright’s place of work when the former knew that the latter was not inundated with a case, where they would have some coffee or tea and chat amiably and generally enjoy one another’s company.
What was very unusual, however, was for Edgeworth to, on one cold February morning, drag his sister practically kicking and screaming with him on one such visit. Phoenix knew they were coming long before they knocked on the door; he could hear that woman’s angry shouting from a mile away (as could anyone, truthfully). Edgeworth’s reasoning, upon being asked (well out of earshot of Franziska) as to why he’d brought her, his response had been “simple; she was in town and I believed it would provide me with some mild amusement.”
So here they were; sitting around, drinking tea, and having quite the awkward conversation.
“I have heard a wealth of foolish things come from your foolish mouth, Miles Edgeworth, but that is one of the most foolish,” Franziska stated, accentuating the ‘Miles Edgeworth’ in a mocking tone.
“I dunno, he’s got a point; you seem to try to outcompete him in pretty much everything.” Phoenix couldn’t help but interrupt the oh-so-sibling-like back-and-forth the two were having to interject a little jab to put Franziska on the spot.
And put her on the spot it did; “I- I most certainly do not!” If her face was steel, then judging by the colour alone, it would have been almost ready to be wrought by a blacksmith.
“The lengths you went to beat me in court say otherwise,” Phoenix fired back without missing a beat, a cheeky smile on his face.
Franziska responded by sucking in a breath to respond, but then holding it as she chose not to reply right away, her face reddening further. She’d realised the predicament she was in; if she continued to deny it, he could simply keep pointing back to their court battles and she would get nowhere. If she admitted it, she would appear as having been childish and petulant.
Then, her cocky smile returned as she thought of a better answer; “well, as you would say yourselves; it is only the truth that determines the outcome of a court ruling, is it not?”
“I mean, yeah, but you did still try to manipulate testimony to get a guilty verdict. Several times.” Phoenix wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily.
“Regardless,” she waved off his statement dismissively as she continued; “it would hardly be an accurate indicator of one’s skill to look at the outcome of a trial when the truth is properly found, as I previously described.”
Where is she going with this? Phoenix wondered as she went on.
“I am not competitive with Miles simply because I don’t have to be,” she concluded, her pompous attitude and expression back in full force. “There isn’t anything he can do that I can’t do better, prosecuting included.”
“Firstly,” Edgeworth began, finally having felt the need to step in, taking a quick sip of tea before he elaborated; “even if that were true, it would only be because every time I ever did something new, you would immediately attempt to do better.” He raised his cup back to his lips before saying; “I doubt you would have ever learned to ride otherwise, even with that riding crop you always carried around.”
Franziska merely grumbled in response.
He took another sip and went on; “and secondly, that’s simply, and objectively, untrue. It’s not even a good joke.”
“Oh, really?” Franziska questioned. “Name one thing you can do better than I can. Just one.” It seemed that Franziska’s efforts to seem on top of the situation had devolved into a silly contest of one-upmanship.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Edgeworth’s words were like a verbal shrug. He looked up at the ceiling in thought. After thinking for a few moments, he decided on “skating? I recall teaching myself to skate on the river Leine a few years after I moved to Germany with you and your father. It was one of the few things you never tried to beat me at.”
“I did not- grrr ,” was Franziska’s frustrated response.
“Anyway, that’s long in the past now, and I doubt you’d attempt to learn it now simply to spite me,” Edgeworth concluded, taking another drink of tea.
“It is also long overdue that I take my leave of this foolish conversation,” Franziska huffed, standing up. “This has been a tremendous waste of my time. Do not bring me here, or anywhere, under foolish circumstances like this again. In fact, I don’t even intend to even set foot in this accursed building ever again.”
With that, Franziska stomped out of the room, grabbed her coat by the door which she promptly opened, and slammed it as she left.
“Goodbye, Franziska,” Edgeworth said rather uselessly, taking his last sip of tea.
“Do you think she’s gonna try and learn to skate now, because of that?” Phoenix half-joked before taking a drink from his own cup.
Edgeworth brought his teacup down from his mouth before replying; “if she was younger, then I would say yes. At this point, I’m fairly confident she wouldn’t. Despite how childish she was acting just a moment ago, she’s not usually like that. Likely just a bit worked up from being here; she’s not used to this type of social interaction.”
Phoenix looked out the nearby window and watched Franziska march away down the snowy street below. Somehow, part of him doubted that.
A day had passed since that foolish conversation with those foolish men and yet Franziska could not exorcise its memory from her mind. How dare they make such ludicrous, undignified claims about her? She most certainly did not compete with anybody, let alone Miles Edgeworth! She was a von Karma! The only one she needed to compete with was herself, to obtain absolute perfection in the field of prosecution, and in everything! And even besides that; it unquestionably was true that Franziska simply was superior in all tests of skill than her foolish little brother; there was no contest, she had no reason to try to out-perform someone she was entirely above. Those fools simply had no idea what they were talking about…
So of course she didn’t stomp around the city all day in a tantrum. Of course she didn’t storm into a sports supply store and demand a custom-made pair of skates within an hour. Of course she didn’t make haste to the Santa Clara river immediately afterwards.
…
▶️
But that’s exactly what she did.
After a short bus ride, a loud command to “pull over immediately!” when she’d found a suitable spot, and an awkward clamber down the riverbank, Franziska sat at the edge of the frozen waters, taking in the surroundings as she tied her skates.
Beyond the river lay a ridge of mountainous hills which appeared gigantic from her vantage so low in elevation. A light dusting of snow covered every surface, from the deepest dirt hole to the highest peak, the grey of the sky completing the monochrome painting of the landscape. Despite the lack of vibrant colour, Franziska probably could have stared at it for hours; there was a simple kind of beauty about wind-swept snowy countryside, Franziska von Karma was an avid lover of both beauty and nature (it helped that the two were often synonymous), but nobody needed to know that except herself.
But she hadn’t time to gawk at the scenery. With a thrust of her hands against the slanted ground behind her, Franziska pushed herself up and onto her skates; she was now on the ice.
Right off the bat, things were shaping up to be much more difficult than she’d anticipated. Franziska slowly drifted forwards from the riverbank as her skates jerked back and forth, her legs instinctively moving (as if she were walking normally) to try and gain control of her movement in vain. Her arms windmilled all about as she was constantly close to losing her balance and falling.
After a few moments, she managed to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of standing on ice with skates (having to use lateral motion with her feet against the long edge of the skate to keep her balance), and had soon put her arm-windmilling and leg-thrashing to an end. Not exactly a lot of progress, though. She’d remastered the art of standing. Now to actually try to skate.
Franziska tried to do what she’d always seen others do; angle her toes outward and push back, the force moving her forward. Unfortunately, that was much easier said than done. Taking careful, slow movements, she kept trying to do just that, but would either not angle the skate enough and her leg would just shoot back- threatening to topple her over-, or it would simply dig into the ice- also threatening to topple her over- as she’d angled it too much.
Not pushing too hard with any given kick of the leg, she continued to try and perfect the angle. Eventually, she got it good enough that- once in a while- she’d make a little (but successful) push. Unfortunately, even these little pushes came as an unexpected jar to her balance, and her free foot was still never quite able to carry her with sufficient confidence as it seemed to have a mind of its own; following little grooves in the ice and further threatening to topple her over.
For a few moments, Franziska let herself lightly glide forward as she thought of how to change her strategy (having been able to successfully change her trajectory to start moving down the length of the river, though not without much peril). Perhaps her problem was that her movements were too small, and that she needed to be more confident and convicted with her motions. After all, that’s what real skaters did; even their smallest pushes were done in earnest. So with that, she began to try again. Which resulted in her first fall. And her second. And her third…
Skiff skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish, CRASH. Swish, CRASH. “Ahh! Ooof!”
Skiff skiff, swish CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish CRASH. Swish, CRASH. “Whoaahhh! Uggh!”
After her umpteenth fall, Franziska just let herself lie on her back for a minute or two and stare up at the sky, her hair now full of snow and her coat much the same, the material matted and uneven. This was turning out to be quite the slog, and she considered just stopping altogether. But Franziska von Karma was nothing if not as stubborn as a mule, thus it wasn’t long before she was back on her feet and ready to move again.
She gave herself a moment to stand as she ran her hands through her hair to clear it of snow, as well as dust off her coat. Unfortunately, these efforts were largely in vain, as it was almost certain she’d be covered in the stuff before long once again. Regardless, she cleaned herself off and got back to it, not being able to enjoy being on her feet for long before she was soon upended again. And again. And again.
Skiff skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff, skiff, swish, CRASH. Swish, CRASH. “NooOO! Ooof!”
Franziska’s ardent determination had become tempered by ever-growing frustration and anger. She knew that skating was difficult, but surely it wasn’t this difficult? If Miles Edgeworth could teach himself to do it as a teenager at the oldest, why on earth couldn’t she do it as a grown adult?! She stood for a few moments, trying to think of what in God’s name she was doing wrong so she could finally start doing it right.
Perhaps if she just shifted her weight just a little bit forwards when she pushed with her skate so she would- CRASH .
Okat, that didn’t work, what if she tried to stay perfectly upright like she was walking, that way she wouldn- “Whoooah! WHOOAH! AHHH!” CRASH.
Franziska drifted on the ice a bit more as she let herself catch her breath, clear off some snow, and try to calm herself down. Unfortunately, the last of those three things did not go all terribly well. She tried to relax a bit by taking in the scenery for a little while, but inevitably her mind went back to thinking about her constant failure at the foolish endeavour she had undertaken, and she stiffened up with irritation again.
Before long, Franziska dispensed with her sightseeing and resigned herself to get back to it. The fact as cold and hard as the ice itself was that the only way she was ever going to get this was to keep doing it; keep trying. Well, Franziska was going to try alright. Perhaps a little too hard; her own vexation working against her and causing even more stiffness-inspired falls.
Skiff skiff skiff skiff skiff, swish CRASH. Skiff skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff Skiff, “Waahh! OOOF!”.Skiff skiff skiff skiff skiff, swish CRASH. Skiff skiff, swish, CRASH. Skiff Skiff, “Woahhh! Agh!”
“Why can’t I do this?!” Franziska shouted to nothing, her fiery rage manifesting as a cloud of steam in front of her face as she threw her hands up in the air. “It’s not like this is rocket science, why on earth is this so… impossible?!” As her mind was occupied with letting out her fury, her legs went into a sort of autopilot as one does when walking and doing something else at the same time. They kicked off the ice with great, but coordinated force, trying to skate harder as if to offend the ice itself in resentment.
Wait. Wait. Wait.
Skate?
Franziska looked down at her feet when the realisation hit her. Had she been… skating just now? Without even realising it? Perhaps she had been trying too hard and her stiffness and anger had actually hindered her efforts. Now that she’d calmed down and her muscles had relaxed, she decided to test the waters.
With a few gentle swishes of the legs, Franziska pushed off the ice and began to move, her motions guided by the muscle memory she’d been developing over the last several hours or so (maybe more, though it was difficult to tell). Her balance remained intact, her movement was smooth and coordinated; she was actually skating, at last.
She clasped her hands behind her back as she'd other skaters do and pushed a little harder to move a bit quicker. To her immense surprise, her legs and feet actually obeyed her commands, and she was now practically floating over the ice. She’d done it. Despite herself, she’d done it; she’d taught herself to skate. The thought was very liberating.
Her confidence renewed, she tried to skate in a big circle like she’d seen some skaters do. She moved quickly and angled to turn more sharply- CRASH .
Franziska smirked a little to herself as she stood to continue skating down the river; perhaps she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
Then, something happened that hadn’t happened in a very long time; Franziska von Karma started to laugh. A gentle chuckle, at first. It quickly turned into a great, mirthful belly laugh. Long gone were the thoughts about proving Edgeworth wrong, and that she could do anything better than he could; now she was simply delighted to enjoy the new sport she’d learned, only wishing that she’d tried to learn it sooner, as she was now quite enjoying herself.
Hot on the heels of her newfound success, Franziska was content to sail over the ice with great zeal and energy, her hands behind her back and her voice full of laughter. She soared forwards with great speed, but expended minimal effort, the closest one could possibly come to flying with their own two feet. Franziska looked forward to many hours of enjoying her new passtime; with so much to see and so many places to go, she was practically bursting with excitement as she skated in an excited rush down the ice, down the river, and towards a corner.
The great Franziska von Karma had been reduced to a laughing, jaunty fool as she began to round the corner. But so long as no one was around to see her like this, she felt no need to restrain herself, and although she would probably scold herself for letting her guard down so severely later on (even if she was alone), those thoughts were far from her mind. For now, life was good, and the day was young; thus Franziska looked forward to spending the rest of it cheerfully exploring the frozen Santa Clara as she finally whizzed around the bend.
⏹️
And nearly crashed head-on into Phoenix Wright.
Franziska quickly turned her skates perpendicular to the direction she was moving in to try and stop, but dug them in too sharply, thus all her momentum was transferred into her upper body and she was subsequently sent smashing into the ice below. After a brief moment of confused stillness, she immediately sat up, dusted herself off, and got to her feet.
To her horror, it was, indeed, Phoenix Wright who was standing there, dressed for the winter weather, and his nose and cheeks a little bit redder than she was used to seeing. He wasn’t wearing skates, however, which lead Franziska to the first of many questions she wanted to ask him:
“W-what are you doing here?!” She got out. Unfortunately, part of her- truthfully- already knew the answer.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” he replied, sounding amused, and one corner of his mouth upturned a little.
“What I am doing here is none of your business!” Franziska retorted defiantly, pointing at the ground with dramatic force.
Wright did not reply immediately. Instead, he just looked at her, his mouth still upturned into that strange smile. What was so amusing about all this?
“You know, in a way, it’s kinda cute.”
Franziska was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘cute’?!” She demanded, her shoulders raising up and her neck stiffening.
“I mean how hard you’re trying to learn to skate,” he elaborated. “It is also kinda childish; trying to beat him at it just for the sake of saying that ‘you're better than him in everything’,” Wright went on, scratching the back of his neck for a moment before returning his gaze and focus to Franziska. “But it also shows how much you care about him.”
Franziska blinked. “What?” She said, nonplussed.
“If you didn’t care deeply about what he thinks of you, you wouldn’t be trying to one-up him so much.”
When Franziska simply stared on in confusion, he continued: “all siblings do it, especially younger ones. The whole ‘hey, look at me!’ routine. It’s just attention-seeking, of course, but you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t value what they thought of you. You want their approval. That's normal.”
For a man without siblings (as far as Franziska knew, anyway), Wright’s words hit eerily close to home. She didn’t think about it long, however, before she realised something:
“Wait, you were watching me?! How long have you been here?!”
“Well, I was out for a walk this morning, and I happened to glance upon a very angry-looking figure storm into a sports shop on the street in front of me, and when they came out, I had a feeling the box they were carrying had skates in it.”
“So… you followed me all the way here?”
Wright shrugged. “Didn’t have much better to do; I don’t have a case right now.”
“…and you’ve been watching me this entire time?”
“Yep. Even got a couple pictures,” Wright said triumphantly as he reached into his pocket, presumably for his cell phone. Franziska was horrified to see, once he’d pulled it out and rooted through it, that he had- indeed- taken several photographs of her during her escapades over the last several hours. There was one from close to when she’d first started; her arms in the air, her face full of surprise, and her body on its way to the ground. There were a couple more like this, but the most embarrassing one of all was one that was quite recent; a photo of Franziska on her way towards the camera at the corner of the river, skating with her arms behind her back, and you could see her glee as plain as day. All the photos looked to be taken from the riverbank, behind the cover of a leafless tree.
“I will say though; you’re pretty good. Takes most people a long time to learn how to skate; you’re a natural.”
“G-give that to me!” Franziska lunged at his phone in a desperate bid to grab it so she could delete those horrific photographs. Unfortunately, she only succeeded in faceplanting, and Wright simply sidestepped to avoid her.
“No way, José,” he teased as Franziska got to her feet. Realising that her great disadvantage of being on skates would make it impossible to take his phone from him, and knowing he would never delete them of his own accord, Franziska admitted defeat, defaulting to glaring at him like a bull.
“You swear to me on everything you hold dear that you will not share those putrid photographs with anyone. Do I make myself clear?!” Franziska growled, pointing her finger at Wright’s face. This only seemed to amuse him, however, as he let out a little chuckle before replying with “alright, I won’t.”
Well, at least he was actually going to keep it under wraps. Hopefully.
“Well, I have wasted enough of my time here,” Franziska said, following up with “and been humiliated enough for one day” under her breath. “I shall be taking my leave.”
With that, she turned around to begin skating back to the place she was before so she could climb up the riverbank. She’d likely have to call Gumshoe to come and pick her up, considering she didn’t plan for the return trip.
“Wait,” came Wright’s voice from behind.
Franziska turned to face him, crossing her arms stiffly. “What? Not finished with trying to make the great Franziska von Karma look like a fool?” She dropped her arms in a quick, forceful motion, balling her fists tight and shouting; “then go ahead; laugh! Laugh! Laugh at the foolish, childish prosecutor!” There was a few moments’ pause, and Wright’s amused smile faded. When he said nothing, nor laughed, Franziska turned away.
“You don’t have to be like this, you know,” he said at last.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Franziska spat, bringing up her arms and crossing them again, though this time a little higher up.
“I mean you really don’t have to compete with him like this,” Wright elaborated. “I know Edgeworth’s not exactly a big bundle of joy, but he’s not heartless either.”
“What do you mean?” Franziska’s words came out a little softer than she’d intended. Her attempt to hide her conflicting emotions was not going as well as planned.
“I mean you don’t have to try to one-up him in everything for him to care about you. You don’t have to beat him to earn his respect. I know you don’t really hate him; you wouldn’t be doing this if you did, like I said before.”
Franziska turned her head to scowl at him from the corner of her eye. “And how would you know any of this? What gives you the right to make any of these claims?”
“Because I’m his best friend.”
“And I’m his sister!” Franziska shouted, turning back to face him. “I know him better than anyone!” She asserted, pointing at her chest repeatedly and leaning forward to enunciate her words.
“You know him as a von Karma, and how he was after DL-6,” Wright went on, seeming not the slightest bit impacted by her outburst. “I knew him as he was before that, and I know him as he is now.”
Franziska thought about his words for a moment before she went on. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“Edgeworth is… a bit like a cat.”
Franziska raised an eyebrow. Wright continued. “When it comes to expressing emotion, he’s a bit hesitant. You just have to make yourself known to him, show him you care, and let him come to you. And he will, I promise you.”
Franziska continued to glower at him, but Wright offered a compassionate smile in return, and soon she felt her guard slip away. It would likely be a very foolish decision indeed to genuinely bare her soul to this fool, but his words really hit home, and it was true; he knew a side of Edgeworth that she truly didn’t. Perhaps…
“…”
“…”
“…”
Franziska looked away. “…I don’t think so. He doesn’t look at me the same way he looks at you.” Her words came out soft and unguarded, but Wright hardly changed his own tone of voice, if at all.
“Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” Wright said.
Franziska mumbled under her breath; “I don’t think he’d look at his sister the way he looks at you …”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Wright paused for a moment. “Anyway, my point is, I think you’d be quite surprised. Try and spend some time with him one of these days. Not for work, just the two of you, and keep an open mind and be open with him.”
A pause. Then, Franziska turned her head just enough to look back at Wright. Her brow had furrowed a little and her eyebrows had bowed down a little in uncertainty. “Are… are you certain?”
Wright smiled a little wider. “I’m sure of it. Give it a shot. It never hurts to try.”
Franziska allowed her shoulders, arms, and forehead to relax, and couldn’t help but give the faintest hint of a smile. “Thank you,” she breathed.
“No worries,” said Wright.
Franziska faced Wright once again, but said nothing. The two simply stood for a few moments as neither party was sure of what to say. Eventually, however, Wright did a strange gesture with his arms; he lifted them up and extended them out and to the side, as if holding some great weight in front of him.
“…What are you doing?”
Wright just blinked with confusion, as if shocked that Franziska didn’t know what this odd gesture meant.
But rather than reply with words, he opted to smile, step forward, and pull Franziska into an embrace.
Oh.
That’s what it meant.
“I…I thought you hated me,” Franziska breathed.
Wright chuckled a little. “I don’t hate anyone, at least not anymore. If anything, I thought you hated me,” he said, pulling back to look at her.
Franziska looked away. “I…” She began, her voice unsure. “…I must go.” She turned and began to skate off back around the bend.
“Take care!” Came Wright’s voice from behind. Franziska did not reply.
After she took off her skates, climbed up the riverbank, and called Gumshoe, she waited for him to arrive by the top of the riverbank. She looked down the road to see Wright unceremoniously plop onto the ground after an awkward upward battle with the terrain. He then stood and began to walk down the road away from her.
“Didn’t plan for a return trip either, did he…” Franziska mumbled out loud.
…
…
…
“Wright!”
He stopped in his tracks, paused for a moment, and turned around.
“Come here!”
He obeyed her command, and after a moment, he was within reasonable earshot. “What’s up?”
“You didn’t plan for your return trip, did you?”
“Uh, maybe. Maybe not.” Came his sheepish reply as he scratched the back of his head.
“I have called Scruffy, he should be here in a few minutes. Will you come along?”
“Sure, thanks.”
The ride back into the city was quiet and uneventful. As they rolled along and Franziska watched the beautiful snow-kissed scenery pass by, one thought permeated through her mind: for all his irritating, foolish qualities, for all the things that man represented, perhaps Phoenix Wright wasn’t so bad after all.
And perhaps his suggestion would be worth trying out.