A/N: I do not own Miles Edgeworth or Phoenix Wright; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine.
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For NaruMitsu Week 2018 Day 1: Rings Fidelis Ad Mortem: Faithful Unto Death (Latin) I have used a real Civil War battle fictitiously. This was written for NaruMitsu Week 2018 on Tumblr, which starts July 1st, and I'm posting it here early. ^)^ *I'll be posting this same fic on Tumblr Sunday, July 1st.*
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November 28, 1864
Outskirts of Franklin, Tennessee
Forested area
9 P.M.

Miles waited, his back pressed up against the tree, his dark grey eyes scanning the pitch black darkness for any sign of movement. He'd taken a terrible chance coming here-knowing that Union and Confederate forces were about to square off in battle in two days' time-but he had to see his lover, Confederate Major-General Phoenix Wright, before that happened.

It was going to be ugly and well he knew it. Both sides, Union and Confederate, were digging in and he knew that the coming battle would be a terrible one and one in which perhaps he or Phoenix might not survive. It was a forlorn hope, at best, to think that they might both escape unscathed due to the ever changing machinations of the Wheel of Fortune so his decision had been made some time before: he would pledge his troth to Phoenix and seal it with a ring.

He was well aware that he had no time to waste and he had waited for his chance to come but Fate seemed to be conspiring against both himself and Phoenix for they, until now, were unable to meet due to changing circumstances. Only this evening had it been possible for him to slip away from the Union line to come here to the outskirts of Franklin to meet Phoenix in secret.

I hope he comes soon. I don't want to miss the only chance we may have to meet again before War comes in-between us once again. His senses were on high alert, small puffs of air twisting in the air around him as he inhaled and exhaled, shivering slightly in the cool, crisp air. It was chilly this evening and he couldn't help but shiver, drawing the corners of his overcoat together with chilly fingers.

Where are you Phoenix? He chewed nervously on his lower lip as he stared hard into the darkness, looking about anxiously for that comforting presence that never left him even when they were forced apart by circumstances and War. You're late.

He sighed impatiently, his hand dipping into his pocket and fishing around inside for a few moments, taking out his gold pocket watch which had been a gift from Phoenix two years earlier. He flipped it open impatiently, staring hard at the numbers. 9:30 and still no sign of Phoenix. Miles sighed as he closed the lid with a harp snapping sound before placing it back in his pocket, his mouth twisting into a sour grimace. I can't stay out here all night...

A crackling sound to his right startled him, his head snapping around, fully expecting to see a Confederate sentry but it was only a passing fox that had stepped on a rotten tree branch that lay on the ground, as the creature's glowing eyes plainly showed before it bounded off into the forest, disappearing into the gloom. He slowly let out a breath, his racing heart slowly calming down.

Stand down, Miles, he told himself sternly, resting his head against the tree trunk and closing his eyes, there's no need to be jumping at shadows.

Difficult to do, he knew, since he was right in the middle of enemy territory. It would be absolute suicide if he didn't keep a close watch on his surroundings lest he fall victim to a Confederate picket line, but, at the same time, jumping at every little sound wasn't a good thing to do, either.

There was a reason he was here, waiting with baited breath and that reason was a small silver box that he carried in his overcoat pocket. He smiled as he reached down, feeling the square outline through the wool of his coat.

I can't wait to give this to you, my love...

A thin slice of moon shone dimly in the pitch black sky, casting watery moonlight on the trees below. Miles was still staring out intently into the darkness when he heard an unexpectedly soft whisper come from close to his left.

"Miles?"

Miles smothered a startled oath as he whirled around to see the shadowy figure of his lover, Phoenix Wright, standing adjacent to him, his white, plumed hat pushed forward slightly over his brow.

"Good lord, Phoenix," he gasped out in mingled anger and annoyance, coughing slightly to hide his discomfiture, "make some noise next time will you!"

"I'm sorry, Miles. I didn't mean to frighten you." He smiled faintly, reaching out white-gloved hands to him and, after a moment, Miles took them in his own, squeezing them affectionately. "It's... good to see you." His voice was hesitant, his back rigid with concern.

Miles took a deep breath, staring into those beautiful cerulean blue eyes and slowly felt his fright, and resulting anger, slipping slowly away.

"It's good to see you, too, Phoenix. I've missed you."

The sweet, seraphic smile that spread over Phoenix's face, a relieved expression etched plainly on his face, was so dazzling that it fairly took his breath away. He tugged slightly on Miles' hands, pulling him toward him step by slow step until he was standing close to him.

"I've missed you, too, Miles," he said softly, a soft blush creeping into his cheeks. "So very much!"

They stood there looking at each other for a few moments before Phoenix let go of his hands; before Miles could protest, he put his hands on his shoulders, drawing him toward him, Phoenix's eager mouth meeting his, his lips curving under his into a saucy grin.

Miles hesitated only briefly before his arms rose, wrapping around Phoenix and holding him close to him, his mouth moving eagerly on his. They shared a tender embrace that lasted for many long, wonderful moments before they parted, staring into each others eyes, their foreheads resting together.

"It's been too long, Miles." Phoenix's voice was tender, though sad.

"It has." Miles' grip tightened on him. "I've missed you these past few months."

"As have I." Phoenix lifted his head, a pensive smile gracing his lips. "I've wanted nothing more than to see you again and now, I have." He chuckled slightly. "There's never been a moment when I haven't thought of you..."

"Nor I." He sighed ruefully as he looked up into his lover's face. "It's this bloody War that's the..."

"I know." Phoenix pressed a quick buss against his mouth, silencing him. "Let's not talk of that now. We're here together; let's enjoy the time we have."

Miles sighed and nodded. "You're right, Phoenix. I'm just so damned tired..."

"As am I, beloved." Phoenix's grip tightened and then relaxed. "I wish it was all over so that we could be together again."

Miles nodded, his throat so tight that he couldn't speak. He didn't want to say what was more than likely on both of their minds at this moment: there were no certainties in War and there was a very real possibility that they wouldn't make it out at all. He remained silent and simply lay his head on Phoenix's shoulder, feeling his lover murmur endearments, his left hand lifting to cradle the back of his head tenderly.

They stood there in silence for some time until Phoenix broke it, a curious expression on his face as he stepped back slightly.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He had a mischievous grin spreading across his features as his hand lifted to cup the side of Miles' face, his thumb making slow circles on his skin. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but I am curious."

Miles grinned. "I have something for you and I thought that it would be a perfect time to slip away in order to give it to you, now that I finally had the chance to do so."

"Oh?" Phoenix's voice was curious but held a note of excitement, and eagerness, in it. "What is it?"

Miles released him and stepped back, his hand slipping into his pocket and pulling out the silver box. Phoenix's eyes widened in surprise as he saw it.

"Is.. Is that..." He paused a moment, swallowing hard as he pointed a gloved finger at it. "Is that what I think it is...?"

"Yes." Miles' heart was beating double time in his chest as he looked uncertainly at the expression on Phoenix's face. His lover's surprise was so complete that he was worried that Phoenix wouldn't like it but the smile that was now spreading over his surprised features comforted him at once and he relaxed noticeably.

"Miles..." Phoenix's voice was soft, subdued, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, beloved...!"

Miles' eyes never once left his face as he held the box in the palm of his hand, slightly trembling fingers opening the lid, Phoenix's mouth in a silent "O" as he stared at the silver ring nestled in its black velvet heart.

It was a beautiful piece: a 5 mm thick silver band, a 1 carat square sapphire set into its heart, two smaller square cut diamonds cradling it on both sides and vine scrolls etched onto both sides of the band.

Phoenix's eyes misted as he looked up at Miles, who had now gone down on one knee, and was holding the ring in his fingers.

"P-Phoenix..." Miles' voice trembled with emotion as he looked up at him, holding the ring out to him. He swallowed hard before continuing. "I love you and only you. You are the reason for my happiness and, although I know that we can never marry officially, I want this to be a symbol of our love and commitment to one another. If you will have me." He paused again, taking a deep breath. "Will you accept this ring as a pledge of my troth?"

Phoenix was silent for a moment before he nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak. Miles smiled and scrambled to his feet, reaching out for Phoenix's left hand which he took once he had removed his white glove, slipping the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand.

"Miles..." Phoenix's voice was choked with tears as Miles held his hand tenderly in his own. "I..." He stopped again but Miles only smiled at him, Phoenix clutching his hand rightly in his own.

They stood there for a few moments, the wind whistling through the naked branches the only sound present in the eerie silence, the dim moonlight seeming to glow on the two men below. Miles was happy; he had at last pledged his troth to the man he loved and he felt peace in his heart. No matter what happened from here, or wherever they would go, he had at last made his love and devotion known in a tangible way.

He was so lost in his own happy sphere that he didn't even notice that Phoenix had also reached into his own pocket and pulled out a similar colored box until he happened to look at Phoenix's face, wondering why his lover had such a mischievous expression, his own eyes widening when he looked down and saw the same silver box nestled in the palm of his hand.

Am I.. am I...dreaming?!

His mouth worked but no sound emerged as Phoenix gently tugged his hand out of his and opened the box, seeing the same silver band with the same designs and diamonds with the same 1 carat square cut gem but, instead of a sapphire gracing its heart, this one had an amethyst.

To Miles' shocked glance he said softly, "I bought this some time ago. I had wanted to give it to you last year but..." He took a deep breath. "...but I couldn't so I kept it a secret until I could see you again." He smiled sadly as he took Miles' hand in his own. "You have captured me in a way that no one else ever could and I have lost my heart to you. Will you also accept this as a pledge of my troth?"

"I will." Miles' voice was soft though solemn, his breath hitching as Phoenix slipped the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, and clasped it tightly in his own before drawing Miles to him in a close embrace, kissing his lips tenderly.

They stood there for some time, a veil of frosty stars twinkling dimly overhead in the night sky as they embraced. Though they were loathe to let each other go, they knew that they had to go back to their own lines soon lest they be caught by a Union or Confederate picket line which would end either either side possibly hanging them both as spies.

With a last kiss, Miles watched Phoenix turn and begin to slowly walk away, disappearing into the gloom, his heart going with him. He stood there for awhile before he turned and made his way back to his own lines. He didn't know what would happen in the future but at least now they had a firm commitment to one another.

It was enough.

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Two days later, the world exploded with the Battle of Franklin. Both sides, Confederate and Union, dug in, canons exploding, rifles crackling as the bullets did their deadly work, men falling and dying on the blood-soaked grass, men shouting and crying out for help as they writhed in agony on the ground.

The battle was over but at a frightful cost, with bodies of the dead and dying scattered in every direction, lying like grotesque, broken dolls on the blood-soaked ground. Thin rays of watery moonlight illuminated the ghastly scene below, a stiff breeze beginning to blow across the battlefield, scattering dead leaves across the ground, mussing the dark grey bangs and plume on two of the dead, one dressed in Union blue and one in Confederate grey.

The soldiers who found them after the battle was over were subdued, taking their hats slowly off of their heads, and pressing them to their hearts in a gesture of respect for fallen comrades and fallen enemies. One of the two dead men lay sprawled face down on the ground, the man in grey sprawled protectively over the body of the man in blue, a broken sword lying next to the bloodied white gloved hand, dead fingers extended, but not quite touching, the hilt. The Confederate Major-General's left hand was surprisingly bare, and the soldiers noticed that the two men wore identical blood spattered silver rings with a sapphire and amethyst gemstone in its heart, glittering with a soft light.

It was clear to them that one of the men had died protecting the other and it was with silent respect that they interred the two men together. Men in grey and blue, mortal enemies on the battlefield, gathered around the grave, praying for the repose of the souls of the two soldiers as one as they were placed side-by-side in the ground.

With a last whispered prayer, the men started shoveling dirt on top of them, two of the men singing a hymn as they buried them.

Fidelis ad mortem

Faithful Unto Death

It seemed, to those gathered silently around the grave, the most appropriate epitaph of all.

.:FIN:.