Work Text:
There were few things Phoenix Wright expected in his life. Ever since he was a child, he’d strived for a simple thing: content. In a cruel world he was alone to face life and despite his passion, the fire that burned beneath his veins to do something good and make but a single mark on the vast Earth, such a pathway laid unattainable. Once aged from the system he’d gotten a perfectly average job, working a perfectly average amount for an even more perfectly average salary. Aside from Charley, the large houseplant left behind from his apartment’s previous tenant, no one else entered his velocity in any meaningful way.
Truthfully, Phoenix was content to live such a life. His wage made buying the occasional tube of oil paint or a decent-quality paint brush that much easier; his free time dedicated to experimenting with his art, taking care of Charley, and partaking in the occasional amateur production the Shakespeare-centric theatre down the road put on. Needless to say, he was a perfectly average person. And yet-
And yet, Phoenix could never have expected this. A truck barrelling down the road, running a red light. Its headlights hurtled closer and closer and he was trapped by the sheer fear that gripped his entire being. Phoenix watched as it was ten metres away, then five, then three two one and closed his eyes, praying that this wasn’t happening.
Who’s going to take care of Charley, now? was his last thought before impact.
-
“I can’t believe this is finally happening.”
Phoenix opened his eyes. His vision was blurry as if he’d just awoken from a century’s deep slumber. It took a couple rounds of blinking before he could make out two blurry figures in front of him, both adorned in purple hues. He blinked again, brain only belatedly catching up to one of the figure’s voice, paradoxically both unknown and yet intimate to him. Another blink, and the sound of crunching metal filled the room.
What?! Eyes flying open, panic surged through Phoenix’s veins. He… he was making his way to work. The traffic crossing… the truck… his- his-
With a will of iron, Phoenix only just managed to hold himself back from hurling. Was he dead? Was this heaven? Or did he somehow… survive?
That’s impossible, he thought, there’s no way I could’ve survived that. And yet…
“Me neither,” A second voice said, sounding just as feminine as the first yet with a child-like tilt to the nuances of her words. “We really did it, didn’t we?”
Now that his vision began to settle, Phoenix began to take stock of his surroundings. Instead of a hospital - or even a coffin six feet under - where he reasonably should have been, it seemed like he was in some sort of wooden cabin. Rough, spruce logs surrounded him, decorated with haphazardly-placed shiny trinkets, metal blades of every kind strewn all over, and a weirdly realistic sheepskin rug. For a reason he didn’t know, Phoenix miraculously stood upright, facing what looked to be two… girls?
The one closest - and the same one he presumed had just replied - wore garments of a deep amethyst, richly ceremonial with a golden, ‘9’-shaped necklace to boot, while the other’s robes were darker; so dark that upon first glance they appeared to be black. She too wore the same necklace, though emerald in colour. She also seemed older, wiser, in a way that somehow made Phoenix feel at ease even in the face of whatever the hell was going on.
“‘We?’ I seem to remember you causing nothing but trouble, Maya.” The older one said bitingly, yet not with any real heat behind her words.
The other girl - Maya, was it? - took the bait. “Oh, go sit on a pike! You know that I-” she stopped, only then turning towards him. “Wait, Nick? You okay?”
“Uh…”
This is insane. Phoenix had no clue what was going on. Absolutely no idea. These strange women in strange ceremonial robes were talking as if they knew him. And what was with the nickname?! Who were they? And where was he?!
Concern overtook Maya’s face, just as her companion took a step closer, brows furrowed in what was questionably worry. “Phoenix, are you feeling well? You look pale.”
No. Phoenix was not, in fact, feeling well. Instead, his head pounded relentlessly and skin prickled with unease. “I’m… uh…” he stammered, yet could not get another word past his growing panic.
“Stop crowding him, Mia! It’s probably just the nerves. After all,” Maya shot him a half-grin Phoenix knew meant nothing but trouble, “it’s not every day the Cold Duke of the North interacts with lot like us.”
“Maya!” The other girl - Mia, was it? - scolded, raising a hand as if to get ready to smack Maya. “Don’t you dare say that in front of Duke Edgeworth’s company. We cannot risk him calling off the engagement.”
Duke… Edgeworth..?
Why did that name ring a bell? A vague, fleeting memory sparked inside Phoenix’s brain, only to disappear from his hands like smoke.
Alright, Phoenix realised, I’ve gone mad. This is insane. What the fuck. “Am I in hell?”
“No, you’re in Goldor.” A pause from Maya, then, “Which is really the same thing.”
“Maya!” This time, Mia did hit the girl. A soft cuff over the head was all that Maya received yet she took the gesture in good nature.
“What? I’m not wrong! How many years have those bastards on the throne murdered people like us! Tell ‘er, Nick!”
People… like ‘us?!’ Phoenix’s head hurt. None of it made any sense. Why wasn’t he dead?! Who were these people?! All he wanted to do was climb back into bed and never wake up. Or maybe, even step in front of another truck. At least that would make some goddamn modicum of sense.
In his panic, Phoenix had completely forgotten to respond. Only when Maya leaned forward, dark grey eyes seemingly peering into his soul, that he realised his mistake. “…Nick?”
Was he alive? Was he dead? He didn’t know. Anything. Mia and Maya and the Cold Duke of the North, fucking hell was where was he?!
“I…”
Suddenly, Phoenix's knees collapse from beneath him.
“Nick!” Maya yelled in panic, at the same time Mia cried out, “Phoenix!” The former of the two didn’t catch him in time, only managing to wrap her arms around his torso when his knees were already on the floor. Her weight stopped him from slumping forwards, but did little to subdue the terror running through his veins. All the while, Phoenix hardly processed a thing. Overstimulation struck down his senses. White noise crackled all around him.
Maya shook him, once, twice, but Phoenix couldn’t feel a thing. After a third time to no avail, she turned to her sister, “I- I don’t understand. What’s going on?!”
“Oh dear…”
Distantly, Phoenix got the feeling Maya was not one to ever give up as she shook him again and again and again. Only once pain began blooming in his neck from the stress did she stop, once again turning to Mia. “Sis, I think Nick’s lost the plot.”
As ethereal as a spirit, Mia glided over to Phoenix and crouched down, placing a hand atop his leg more careful and kind than anyone had ever touched him before. “I should have expected this to happen. You always become delirious in times of stress.”
Delirious?! Oh god, he really was in hell, wasn’t he.
A look of understanding came over Maya. “Ohh, so this is what happens when his magic gets out of whack. Hey, hey sis, hey sis, mind if I try and align his quintessence?”
Phoenix startled out of his daze, heart suddenly pumping harder at the sheer mention of those things. “Magic? Quintessence?!” He yelled.
Mia gave a quick nod. “Do so quickly. This is worse than I thought.”
“Okay!” Clapping her hands together, an all-too dangerous grin appeared on Maya’s face. “Don’t worry, Nick. This won’t hurt.” A pause, then, “Probably!”
He was so going to die. And at the hands of this crazy girl, nonetheless. But before Phoenix could try and stop her, Maya’s eyes glowed brilliantly teal, plunging him into absolute darkness. For a moment there was nothing, silence, then-
All at once, information flooded into Phoenix’s brain like a tsunami onto shore. Every nueron and synapse alit with memories that weren’t, of a life that made no sense.
He was Phoenix Wright, a - born mage with the quintessence of the firebirds running through his veins - perfectly normal salaryman. He lived a - life of disorder and chaos in the kingdom of Goldor that hunted those with magic - perfectly normal life. He had - Mia and Maya Fey, two spirit mediums that had taken him in after his whole family were massacred - Charley, a perfectly normal houseplant.
Phoenix remembered. The pain of hiding who he was. The agony of cold iron around his neck when Lord von Karma discovered his magic. The political struggle, the pain and fear and the countless hours of bartering between von Karma and Mia Fey, the de facto leader of the scattered magic beings. An agreement, that in exchange for ceasing the persecution of magic and sparing Phoenix’s life, von Karma would gain their powers for his own, and his young ward would too gain something of power - a fledgling firebird’s hand in marriage.
It was all an endless cacophony of meaningless noise. Incomprehensible, two lifetimes of memories parallel with each other. A perfectly normal person, and one of the strongest magical beings in all of the lands. And yet, despite everything, all he could focus on was the Cold Duke of the North - Miles Edgeworth.
In one life, Edgeworth was a boy he’d known for three months when they were both nine. Three blissful months before the boy disappeared and Phoenix was moved to another family. In another life, Edgeworth was the ward of the fearsome king, ruthless against all those with magic. He’d hunted down creatures on his father’s behest for years, slain them without mercy, and now-
And now, they were betrothed together.
A startling image formed in Phoenix’s mind. One of a handsome man, hair and eyes a starling grey. Long robes of bloody burgundy billowed from his shoulders, decorated only with the finest golden trimmings the land could offer. A severe expression was etched across his face, highlighting his sharp jaw and cold, cold stare.
Somehow, Phoenix knew that this man was Miles Edgeworth. The Cold Duke of the North, the slayer of his kin.
And his future husband.
It hit him like a truck. Phoenix had died and reincarnated into this world, right before he was to be wedded to the most handsome strangerfriendenemy he’d ever seen.
Oh,
fuck.