Risenfromash: Check out my profile page for information on a collaborative project I'm involved with that got posted today in the M section. Thanks for reading.
Franziska had scoured the garden for every flower she could find while Miles cut evergreen branches. It was Allerheiligen, or All Saints Day as American-born Miles still had a habit of calling it, meaning that it was time for Franziska to visit the graves of her ancestors. On that day, it was a tradition of the von Karma family to visit the graves of their predecessors. The von Karmas formed their own procession after church to go to the family mausoleum to adorn the von Karma patriarchs with flowers and wreaths and light special candles the family reserved only for this particular occasion.
As children the procession had included the servants, Manfred, Miles and Franziska but it had now dwindled to only the two siblings and even Franziska wasn't entirely sure why she still took that walk year after year. She wasn't devout and she usually had little tolerance for religious pomp, but she knew she found some sense of comfort in the ritual. So much had changed in her life, but her task on Allerheiligen remained the exact same: bow before each grave, say a brief prayer, and place upon the dead a bouquet of flowers. It was a job she had mastered and performed perfectly and so she continued to do it even after she had told the servants they no longer needed to bother with it.
Besides, November was often a nice time to take a walk through the countryside and she and Miles so rarely were able to send an entire day with one another. It seemed as though one of them always had some obligation to fulfill, but today this was their obligation, to walk together past the picturesque landscapes of rural Germany and enjoy the cool breeze circulating the unseasonably warm air. There were far worse ways to spend a day.
Franziska glanced over at her brother. He was walking beside her laden down with a large armload of cedar boughs. He looked handsome, but weary. He hadn't been getting much sleep. Yet he made no complaint about loading up his arms with evergreens and "taking a stroll." He always enjoyed being outdoors, especially in the country. He smiled at her but said nothing as they walked along.
She couldn't remember a time before he had accompanied her to the graves and she it was amusing how now she found his companionship such a comfort when as a child his presence had only served to annoy her.
In truth, Franziska had many unpleasant childhood memories of Allerheiligen. There was a lot not to like about the holiday. One wasn't allowed to sing or make music while in the processional and the church services had been long and excruciatingly boring with the same sermon every year. She was very glad that Miles and she forewent that portion of the tradition.
"Do you remember how you used to ask Papa all kinds of questions about Allerheiligen?"
Miles smirked. "It drove you nuts didn't it?"
She nodded and then paused her walking and deepened her voice in the best imitation of Miles she could muster said, "Sir, why are the von Karmas buried in a mausoleum when unmarked graves are the standard form of burial in the country? Sir, isn't honoring all dead at the same time as those who have achieved sainthood disrespectful to the special honor they have been bestowed? Why are the newwlings cone-shaped? Why do we light them only on All Saint's Day?"
Miles shook his head. "Now, in all fairness I didn't ask all those questions in one year."
"No, but those are only the ones I remember, Little Brother."
"Well, I was curious. I assure you that we don't make such a fuss over All Saint's Day in the states."
"I know, but you stole all the good questions. The only one I was left was why no women are buried in the family crypt."
Miles grimaced. Manfred had been undeniably sexist.
"Miles, did you know that women are 'foolish, flighty, and unfaithful?'"
"I had hoped you had forgotten that quote."
"I have not. I have an amazingly sharp memory. Much better than yours. That's why I don't need to write everything down in a little book like you do."
"Sister, quit making fun of my note taking. It makes me a better investigator."
"It makes you look foolish is what it does."
"It helps me stay organized so that I may draw logical conclusions."
"If you say so. I think for Christmas I should buy you a little pink diary with a teeny tiny lock and key."
Miles arched a brow. His sister was being especially feisty this afternoon.
"Those kind of journals are best left to those who need to write about their crushes."
"Well, then it would be perfect. You can write all about me."
"I don't need to write down my thoughts about you, darling. I don't loose track of things like that."
"Are you sure?" She stopped in the shoulder of the road and looked at him batting her eyes. "I seem to recall a time when you left me to pursue greener pastures with a certain defense attor-"
Miles glared at his sister and she shut her mouth as a self-satisfied smirk appeared on her lips. He supposed he should be glad that Franziska was able to jest about their yearlong separation, but Miles felt a lot of guilt about having abandoned his sister and she seemed not to recognize that it caused him pain to be reminded of his actions. She had cheated on him, but he no longer felt like he had been justified in ignoring her pleas for forgiveness.
He bowed his head. "Franziska, I'm sorry you had to do this alone last year."
"It's alright." She said simply. "I've done it alone before when you've been in the states without me. It isn't a huge burden to go lay flowers on some graves." But Miles knew that one of those graves belonged to Franziska's own father executed for killing his father. Laying flowers on that grave was a burden to them both. His legacy loomed like a shadow over them. In yet, here they were headed towards his final resting place.
"I did participate last year. It was after you'd already left. I saw your blue flowers."
"What foolishness would have possessed you to visit the von Karmas when you didn't have to?"
"Because…" Miles knew it was because he loved her and because there had been a time when he had loved Manfred, too, but now his feelings for his former mentor were so confusing that he believed he would never be able to sort out the tangled web of emotions. "Because…I always do when I'm in Germany."
Franziska smiled. "I love you, Miles Edgeworth…even though you look incredibly silly carrying a man diary around with you everywhere."
Miles groaned. "This from the woman who is only without her whip right now because it's not savior faire."
~xxxx~
The family mausoleum rested at the base of a small hill. Its marbled walls and Roman architecture looked out of place in the middle of the simple green meadow. Miles set down the branches he was carrying and pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the padlock that kept unwanted visitors out. The wrought iron gate creaked as he pushed it open and he looked around to see how well it had been cared for over the past year. He was pleased to see that other than being a little dusty and having a few leaves that must have blown in when the autumn breezes started that the family crypt looked very tidy.
Franziska swept past him and immediately genuflected at the sepulcher farthest from the gate. She didn't rush, but was very methodical, making a regiment of walking to each casket, saying a sentence or two of prayer, and then moving on to the next one. He found himself watching her rather than following suit. Despite the gloomy atmosphere Miles was struck by Franziska's grace. With her arms loaded down with flowers and the rhythmic pace of her steps she reminded him a bride walking down a church aisle. He was mesmerized till he realized he was lagging behind in his duties and he stepped back out of the mausoleum to grab the pile of evergreen branches he had set down when he had unlocked the chamber.
Returning to the task at hand he followed his sister's lead with only a few differences. It was branches of cedar Miles placed on the ancestors. Manfred would not allow his adopted son to carry flowers believing them to be far too feminine a thing for any man to be seen carrying even for the sake of the dead and since Franziska always brought flowers he had continued to honor the dead with evergreens even though Miles would have been happy to irradiate from his mind another echo of Manfred's biases.
Miles also left all the praying to his sister. Miles only prayed in moments of extreme duress such as when Franziska had been shot in court years ago. He could never be at a funeral or in a cemetery without remembering the terror he had felt that day. How he seen the gun, but wasn't fast enough to stop the shooter and Franziska's upper body had fallen back from the impact.
How had he not known then that he was in love with her? How could he pretend that his panic was strictly that of a brother for a sister? It seemed ridiculous now; now that he knew with certainty how closely bound they were to one another.
But she was also bound to her family, the von Karmas, and looking around the mausoleum he thought with dissatisfaction that this was her family, a collection of dead men who didn't even believe their wives were fit to be buried next to them. Miles sighed, Franziska deserved better and she needed family. What would happen if something happened to him?
Miles remembered the brief conversations he and his lover had considering the subject of possible parenthood. Perhaps they had been too dismissive of the idea of having children. They hadn't given it much consideration because the idea hadn't seemed right for them on cursory examination.
They weren't a traditional couple. Both Franziska and Miles were extremely dedicated to their careers and wanted nothing to get in the way of their commitment to their profession and though they didn't say it Miles knew they were both scared of change. As it was he and Franziska didn't have many worries. They had money and a home and they could be together whenever their work was complete.
It was a fear of change that kept Miles from proposing to this woman who was the center of his life. He wasn't sure he believed in marriage, but he still would have married Franziska. As far as he was concerned, he had made his lifelong commitment to her and he believed she had done the same for him. Yet he new he would enjoy having that commitment made in a way the rest of the world recognized or, at least, claimed to understand, but he felt that their peaceful life was precariously balanced and he didn't want to do anything to upset the calm they were currently experiencing.
Miles lingered at the repository of Franziska's grandfather as she approached the final patriarch resting in the tomb, her own father, Manfred von Karma. Miles admired her strength. Being here at her Papa's grave meant she not only had to acknowledge that he was gone, but why he was. Manfred's passing would forever be linked with the crimes he committed while on earth, crimes that both Franziska and Miles would have rather not memorialized.
~xxxx~
Standing there before her father's final resting place, Franziska von Karma felt like she was swimming. She had lost her footing and was paddling around hoping to find solid ground again. She felt this way every time she made her annual visit and each year it made her angrier. How dare he do the things he did. How dare he soil the von Karma name her name. How dare he leave her and how dare he do those things that hurt Little Brother.
"You must hate me…"
The words were barely audible, but Miles heard them. His ears were well attuned to hearing the words his sister didn't really mean to say aloud for fear of appearing imperfect. He walked over to stand next to her setting the final evergreen branch he was holding on the tomb before placing a hand on either side of her. Franziska wobbled a little, tears forming in her eyes and she let Miles wrap his arms around her crushing the delicate blue flowers she had brought in honor of her father, but had not yet laid upon him.
"Miles, do you hate me?" Her words were choked by sobs.
Miles had believed her whispered comments were to her papa, but he realized now that she had been speaking to him.
He placed a hand beneath her chin to raise her head. He couldn't imagine what was going through her mind. "Darling, why would you say that?"
"Because I'm a fool! Papa ruined your life…and yet here I am every year going through this fool ritual, honoring my father on the same day the foolishly fool saints are honored. My father! He was no saint! He was cruel and mean and hated us, but for some fool reason here I am again performing a ritual for a religion I don't even believe in. You must think I'm crazy."
Edgeworth shook his head. "No, sister. I think you're sweet. I find your devotion to your father endearing. I feel no anger that you come to pay your respects to him. You are his daughter. I just wish he had been kinder to you."
"But Miles you and I both know how perverse his values had become! His soul was more sick and twisted than most of the people we prosecute."
Miles didn't know what to say, but spooned against her gently while tightly clasping her hands in his.
Franziska stared at her father's tomb. "Before he was executed a priest visited him and he assured me that I shouldn't fear for Papa because Papa's sins had been absolved. All his sins wiped away magically as though they never happened! That is not fair! Not fair to those he hurt. Not fair to us! The bastard! I hope there isn't a heaven. He doesn't belong there."
"Franziska, you don't have to hate your father because of the things he did to me."
"I would rather hate than forgive." Her nostrils flared with rage and her body tremored with anger.
Miles kissed her hand. "Darling, you don't mean that."
She snatched her hand away from him.
"Little Brother, the things he did were inexcusable! And he pushed…and pushed for me to be this…this…perfect person…yet not a person at all. People aren't perfect, Miles! He wanted me to be some kind of…machine." She struggled to find the most precise term. "A robot but I tried anyways. I tried so hard-"
"I know you did, but, darling, you don't need to keep pressuring yourself. I love you exactly as you are and you have already proven yourself to be one of the best prosecutors in the entire world."
Franziska took a deep breath and held it. "Miles Edgeworth, Papa pointed out everything we did that was less than perfect. Every flaw, every mistake as though his actions were infallible, but what did he do? He was so vengeful he killed someone! What kind of perfection is that?"
Miles turned Franziska to face him and took her hands in his and clasped them together by their hearts. He was at a loss for words. How could he explain how sorry he was that she had to deal with all this, but that she was probably the only person resilient enough to survive having a father as cruel as Manfred.
Franziska gazed into the eyes of the man she loved, the man her father had been determined to hurt and disgrace and bar her from loving. Franziska looked at her brother lovingly and then suddenly yanked her hands from Miles and spun around to slam her fists onto the marble slab protecting her father's remains.
"If Papa has been forgiven there is no justice!" Her hands hit the marble with such force that her brother knew her hands would be discolored by bruises the next day, but he was not going to make any attempt to stop her. In the five years since Manfred's execution Miles had never seen her express her anger at the man.
"I hate you! Do you hear me, Papa? Do you hear me, you bastard? Papa, did you ever love me? Even a little?" She threw herself forward upon the casket clawing at it with her fingernails as though trying to tear it apart and Miles was no longer able to force himself to stay back. He ran to her side and knelt next to her. He extended his arm slowly unsure whether she might find his touch too intrusive, but she didn't shirk it and so he pulled her toward him as she sobbed.
Continuing to hold her, Miles slid to the floor and she came to rest seated in his lap, much the way she had as a little girl. He held her marveling that for as intimidating as she could seem she was still very much stuck in perpetual childhood constantly trying to please a parent who demanded the unobtainable and then abandoned her to a life where he was no longer even around to judge her leaving instead his judgmental voice reverberating within her head.
They sat in silence, their only companions the sound of Franziska's wailing and the rustling of drying leaves in the breeze. Miles stroked her hair and occasionally, Franziska murmured what sounded like his name, but her face was so deeply embedded in his chest that he couldn't be sure.
"Franziska, he was your father. You can't expect yourself to stop loving him because of the things he did. I don't expect you to."
Franziska looked up at that moment and realized the greatest man in her life had always been her brother. He had an amazing strength of character, resolve to do what was right, and the drive to uncover the truth. He had found the true path of a prosecutor and she was glad that he had challenged her to join him on the journey, but compared to him she was nothing but a tag along, a good-for-nothing.
"Am I evil, Little Brother?"
Miles kissed the top of her head. "Of course not. What would possess you to even contemplate such a thing?"
Her hand clenched the fabric on his shoulder. "I was like him, willing to do anything for the glory of victory."
"Darling, it was the only way you knew…the only way we knew until I stumbled upon a path of higher ethics. Phoenix may be an idiot, but his earnestness enlightened us both. It's not like I was somehow a better person than you or your father."
"Miles Edgeworth, you are a better person."
"I hope you're just saying that, darling."
Miles ran his hand gently through her hair. "Franziska, the worst thing your father did wasn't killing my dad. It was convincing you that you had no worth."
Miles kissed her neck. "Believe me. You have no reason to think so little of yourself." Franziska turned her face away from him in embarrassment.
"Sister, Papa taught us many things. We both owe him a great deal, but you must believe me when I say that the only flaws you have were put there by him."
Miles lips met hers and she began to cling more tightly to him.
"I love you, Miles Edgeworth, even though I don't believe half of the nice things you say to me. "
Miles frowned. How to make her believe, he wondered. "Well, then believe this. You make me incredibly happy, sister."
She placed a hand on the side of his face and kissed him. Tears poured from her eyes.
"How could Papa have told me to hate you? You! The only person I've ever loved."
"Franziska, the only thing I can not forgive your father for is that he never treated you like the precious blessing that you were to him. The rest…I believe I have started to make peace with."
Franziska began to cry again. Her sobs sounding oddly hollow in the marble room. Mile hugged her.
"Franziska, he can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt us. He has no power and I'm not about to go anywhere. I mean that."
She pulled herself up to sit on the sepulcher and looked at Miles.
"Miles, he told me I would burn in hell for loving you."
Miles gritted his teeth, but remained silent. Nothing surprised him anymore. The extent of Manfred von Karma's mental abuse of his daughter seemed to have no end. Instead, he leaned his elbow on the marble beside her and smirked. Was she really worried about some kind of final judgment?
"I'll be right there with you, sister. You don't need to worry." He patted her hand reassuringly.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a silver flask with ornate engravings and took a sip.
"Last year, I found that this helped."
"Oh, so that's how you got through doing this without me." He teased.
"Miles Edgeworth, I do not get drunk. I just had a little something to take the edge off."
"Well, do share, dear sister. This place still creeps me out. It reminds me of the haunted house at Gatewater Land."
Franziska laughed and relinquished the flask to her brother who hopped up onto the tomb with ease.
"You know what I can't figure out, Miles Edgeworth?"
"How I got to be so good at crime scene investigation? I examine every nook and cranny and take copious notes in my 'man diary.'"
Franziska swatted him and snatched the flask back. "No, fool. I wonder why Papa didn't cut you out of his will. It's not like his detah was unexpected. He knew he was going to be executed."
Miles had often wondered this.
"He was a very odd man. Perhaps he felt I won and deserved the money or maybe on some level he loved me…or maybe he didn't want a foolish fool woman getting all his fortunes."
Franziska laughed despite her disgust. Hearing her father's sexist words come from Miles was so preposterous it made it humorous.
Miles leaned forward knocking the tomb with his knuckles. "Yeah, a lot of what he did defies any logic I can fathom."
"A lot of life defies logic, Miles Edgeworth."
Franziska took another swig of whiskey and looked over at the entryway to the mausoleum. Through the wrought iron gate a gracefully gnarled plum tree was visible its boughs bending in the cool breeze.
"Miles, do you remember the year I got locked in here?"
Miles did remember. The von Karma procession had been heading back to the estate when Miles had become aware that Franziska wasn't with them. Manfred had assured Miles that Franziska was a highly capable girl and could care for herself and
that there was no reason to fuss over her foolishness, but Miles had remained concerned and retraced their steps until he had found Franziska locked inside the family mausoleum.
"When I found you locked in here you insisted you weren't scared even after I confessed to you that this place gives me the creeps. Instead, you laughed at me and proceeded to call me weak."
Franziska turned her eyes away from him. "I did?"
"Yes. But I was rather used to it." The smirk on his face was just like it had been in his youth. Franziska felt herself getting wildly aroused seeing it. How that cocky little crooked smile of his could do that to her was one of life's mysteries.
"Papa was so mad that you broke the lock instead of going to get the key from him."
Miles hadn't wanted to leave her, not locked behind the iron bars like she was, not ever. In hindsight he realized that perhaps there had been hints of his intense affection for her even when she was a child. It would have made more sense to go get the key. Why had he insisted on finding a large branch from the nearby plum tree and working for half an hour to pry the lock open instead? Had he been showing off? It was embarrassing to think he might have been trying to impress his ten year-old sister, but it seemed like a distinct possibility.
He held his hand out for the flask. She obediently handed it to him and he took a long sip and swallowed.
"I remember the incident a little differently," Franziska mused.
"Hhhmm?" Miles asked as he took another large swallow of alcohol. He could swear that there was a naughty grin dancing upon her lips.
"I remember how handsome you looked." Franziska was giving him a look he knew all too well. That worshipful gaze she got whenever she remembered the longing she had experienced for her brother when he was unattainable.
Franziska leaned over and whispered in his ear, "One of my favorite fantasies was of you that day." Miles felt himself getting aroused by the sensual way she articulated each syllable saying them into his ear like they were each a passionate kiss, but he tried to resist.
"Franziska, you were ten."
In a more normal voice she defended herself, "It wasn't graphic. I didn't know enough for it to be, but," she leaned toward him again. "We did make love."
Miles coughed a little. The whiskey was strong.
She gazed fixedly on the plum tree visible through the door of the crypt. "In my fantasy, I was older, of course, with a body that was appropriate for such actions. You got the gate open and I threw my arms around you and you didn't want to let me go and I said that I had a reward for you and I led you to that tree and we sat at the base of it and kissed."
Miles smiled. It was not an entirely unpleasant image. "And we made love?"
"Yes."
"I would never have done that, even if you had been sixteen or seventeen."
"It was a dream. Don't you ever have fantasies, Miles Edgeworth? But even in it you resisted. You were worried about my honor."
Miles chuckled. "And what, Dear Sister, did you do to convince me that I shouldn't be and that such intense expressions of our newly found love would be permissible?" He spoke directly to her face in a voice no more than a whisper and she felt herself beginning to physically ache for him.
"I told you that as a gentleman it was your job to do as I wished and that I desired you and it would be wrong for you to leave me unfulfilled."
Miles laughed. "In other words, the routine you used on me years later was well rehearsed."
Her eyes narrowed. Was he teasing her? She was opening up to him and he was teasing her?
"Miles, are you ashamed of me?"
Miles Edgeworth's head whipped around from his reverie.
"Is that why you don't tell people about us?" She looked frightened and he immediately wrapped his arms around her to reassure her.
"No, Franziska. I thought that was what we both wanted. Darling, people are unintelligent. Facts don't matter to them. It doesn't matter to them that we aren't biologically related. It doesn't matter that for large portions of time in our youth we weren't even together. All that matters to people is that you were young and I was older and I was told to treat you as my sister and we became lovers instead."
"Not 'instead,' Brother. Never 'instead'. Always 'in addition.'"
"Yes, that makes it so much better." He glugged more whiskey. She touched the side of his face tucking his hair behind his ear. "Does it bother you?"
"Not really. Maybe a little. I don't know. I'm sorry that I'm not being decisive. I don't know how to react when you tell me you wanted me. You were just a kid. I feel-"
"Miles Edgeworth, you did nothing wrong. If anyone is perverted it's me. It's not your fault you were such an attractive teenager. I'm the one who led you to this. It's all my doing. I'm the deviant one. The one who will burn while my father is forgiven for his sins."
"No! Franziska, don't talk like that. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps if God does exist there's a reason he sent you a brother who wasn't really your brother?" Miles eyebrows were arched suggestively.
Franziska's ice blue eyes sparkled. "But, Miles Edgeworth, you don't believe in destiny."
"I didn't, but when I think of you I feel different. I feel like somehow we were meant to be. It isn't your fault you were born late and were the daughter of my mentor."
"And your father's murderer," she added with disgust. She grabbed the flask back from him with such carelessness some of the liquor sloshed out of it before she was able to take an unladylike swallow from it. She proceeded to wipe her lips with the back of her hand and Miles eyes lingered on them.
"Anyone who claims our upbringing was normal and that we should therefore act like typical siblings doesn't understand. We were forced to war against one another like pit bulls, for God's sake."
"Miles, I love you. I always have, but I'll never speak of the crush I had on you as a child if it make you uncomfortable."
He shook his head. "It only disturbs me because I find it flattering. It makes me want you." He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back upon her father's final resting place. Miles was on top of her desiring her with every bit of his heart and body and she wanted nothing more than to give herself to him.
"We should go," he said with a hint of regret in his voice at the thought of releasing her from his grasp.
Franziska shook her head and with a hint of deviance in her voice said, "No, Miles." Her lips attacked his shocking him with the ferocity with which they pulled and tugged on his own. Her hands were roaming his body fondling every curve and angle as though she were blind and wanted to see him for the first time.
Miles still felt the nervousness that always accompanied him in this place but the eerie sensation was melting away with the heat of her lust and he thought that as she had said, it was wrong to deny a lady her desire. Manfred had been cruel, but he had been her father. The only parent she had. Franziska had been cheated by the world of any semblance of a normal childhood, even more so than he and if there was anything Miles could do to make that inequity less grievous he would do it. He had long since given up his ability to deny her. Anytime or anywhere he was hers and she knew this as her hands came to rest upon his butt pulling his body closer to her as she slid her tongue down his earlobe.
Miles held Franziska ever tighter. "Franziska, I love you."
They kissed. Their arms and legs tangling with one another trying to entwine in such a way that they would never again have to part.
"Oh, Miles, I wish my first time had been with you."
Miles internally cursed Klaus, the rapist that stolen Franziska's virginity, and cursed her father for not being more supportive of her through her recovery and for not telling Miles that his sister needed him, but most of all he cursed himself for pretending it was okay to leave her behind. What an enormous amount of arrogance he had back in his youth to have done whatever he wished with no regard to her situation. It was as though he had been desperate to prove that he didn't need her and that his heart wasn't hers when really he would have loved to have never been without her.
"Darling, we could pretend…out by the plum tree." It was getting to be twilight and everyone else would have already headed back to their homes, but Franziska shook her head.
"No, here, brother." The words were said gently but were clearly an order. Miles was to set aside his usual gracious manners and do as his sister wished and he knew there was an intention behind her command. It wasn't that she was too in the moment to take his hand and dash to somewhere else with him or that the air was too cool for them to be away from the shelter of the mausoleum. No, she clearly wanted him to ravish her here in case Manfred kept watch over his remains. She wanted to show her Papa that she had won; she had bested both her father and her brother by winning Miles' total devotion.
Miles trembled a little. He and his sister had done many crazy things in the throes of passion and not always in the most appropriate of locations, but this was in a class by itself. He started to shake his head, but she was giving him that pleading expression that he was powerless against.
"Don't be nervous, Little Brother. He won't jump out and get you."
"How can you be so sure about that?" Miles whispered in her ear in between kisses as his body pressed into hers. "If he could read my thoughts I'm sure he already would have," he said as his hand slid up her leg.
Franziska smiled at him. "Please, Miles Edgeworth. If Papa can see us I want there to be no doubt that we love each other-"
"And that we can't manage to go through a day without-"
"Something like that, yes."
Miles released one hand from her to grab the flask off the floor, chugged from it, capped it, and let it fall to the floor as he leaned over her feeling her delicate fingers massage the back of his neck. He closed his eyes and focused on her touch, her scent, and the craving he had for her. She could feel his hard arousal pressing into her through his pants, aching for her.
"Miles, don't worry. No one comes in here. The von Karmas are not well liked."
"I know one who is," he said as his lips began to make their way down her body. "Franziska, I will always be with you. I will always be yours. I don't care what people think or say. If you go to hell I'll be right there with you."
"Well, if hell exists we're definitely going to be headed there after tonight." She said pulling his shirt out of his pants and undoing his belt and like two lovers brought together in some primitive fertility ritual they began to make love onto of the altar that was Manfred's final resting place.
~xxxx~
Yes, Papa. That's Miles Edgeworth inside of me. You thought you were so clever adopting the son of the man you most hated but you didn't count on this did you? You didn't realize you were bringing me my savior. So, thank you. Remember how you told me I had to hate him? Each time you made me say it I desired him more, because I saw the differences between the kind of man you were and the kind of man he is and Papa should I ever decide I do want a child it will be his. Your voice can echo in my head all it wants but I don't care. I would do anything for him and he would do anything for me. So, I hope you're watching. I hope you see this isn't revenge or a plot. It's love. He's pleasuring me here so you can witness how you no longer have power over us. We're together and there's nothing you can do to stop us.
Franziska rolled over to take a turn on top her eyes locked with her brother's as he moaned and gasped with satisfaction. She would take her time and indulge him, because she knew he didn't really want to be here. He was here because he loved her and because he had vowed to never leave her.
She thought about what he had said. Maybe a sibling was the only person who could reach her and see her for who she really was. Maybe God had sent her Miles because of that or maybe there was no higher power in which case she was just very, very lucky. She thought about that as she rolled him around inside her thighs. Being with him was better than she had ever allowed herself to imagine it could be.
Miles was quivering with the sensations her gyrations were generating. His quaking arms reached up and pulled her head towards him and as she bent forward he rubbed her in an especially thrilling spot and her jaw fell open her breath seemingly being held for the moment when she would let out a tremendous shout indicating that her body was overloading with excitement, but he wasn't yet ready. He rolled her over and climbed on top of her and she took a gasp. He thrusted himself into her and Franziska moaned in delight. Her head leaned back as she let out little gasps of pleasure as she panted out words to her lover.
"I…I….can't…see!"
"It's alright. I won't let you fall."
Franziska tipped her rear upward trying to eliminate any gap that existed between their bodies. She wanted him to be as deep as he could go and he obliged extending himself into her over and over again faster and more vigorously as his hands gently held her breasts.
"I…love…you,… Miles Edge…worth." She panted and her words of adoration made hi wish he could crawl up inside her and he let out a guttural groan as he pushed into her so hard she moaned in response and her arms flew forward grabbing the edge of the marble crypt.
Miles found himself lurching erratically as he released into her over and over again feeling as though he might never stop and all he could think of was that he and his sister had and would continue to circumvent any and all moral codes, societal rules and ideologies that attempted to keep them apart. They were together now and he would see that they remained so forever.
~xxxx~
"My goodness! You should have called. I've been so worried!"
Miles and Franziska had returned home looking disheveled but unusually happy for Allerseelen, All Soul's Day.
"Helga, Miles Edgeworth and I are more than capable of caring for ourselves." Franziska scolded wishing she had her whip back in her hand.
"I am aware, but don't underestimate the number of enemies you two have. Criminals don't like to see how hard you work to lock their cronies up in jail. Next time you decide to do whatever it was you were doing" at this her eyes lingered on their less than perfectly kempt state and both Miles and Franziska knew that Helga knew exactly what they had been doing. "Please give me a call so I can get a restful night of sleep."
Franziska opened her mouth to continue arguing with her, but Miles bowed his head politely and said, "I agree. It was thoughtless of us not to consider that you would be concerned, but I believe that liquor may have clouded our judgment. In future, we will make sure to notify you when we unexpectedly decide not to return home."
Franziska pulled Miles down the hall into the music room. "Clouded our judgment? Are you saying you wouldn't have?"
"Franziska, darling, I will pleasure you anywhere anytime, but I believe we did worry Helga and like the expression says good help is hard to find. Look at those idiot subordinates we have at the courthouse."
Franziska nodded. Lately, it seemed like the courthouse had ceased to have any kind of a screening process before hiring.
"Brother, I think we are foolishly lucky."
"Oh, really? And why is that?" Miles said smiling.
She grabbed his arm and leaned toward his ear and whispered, "Because no one else gets to fuck their brother."
Miles smirked. "Yes, well it may be that the nasty rumors and comments are all a form of jealousy."
"They should be," Franziska said wrapping her leg around him and smiling. She thought that perhaps they had started a new Allerheiligen tradition, one that only she and her brother would observe.
"And sister, I have a secret. I think that perhaps there were times when I wanted you, too."
"I know that Miles. It's always shown in your eyes, especially as you spent all that time working at prying the lock off the mausoleum when you could very well have just run to Papa for the key."
Miles shrugged. "It wasn't a conscious thing," he said simply.
"No, of course not. Only a very foolish seventeen year old would be trying to show off his muscles to his ten year-old sister as though she were a princess."
"Darling, you are a princess."
"Hmph! I am not. I am a prosecutor of world-renown genius. I do not appreciate the insinuation that I am similar to a spoiled rich girl who sits on her duff all day and does nothing but attend parties and bat her eyes at her subjects."
Miles laughed. "Well then can you explain to me, Prosecutor-of-World-Renown how exactly you got yourself locked in there to begin with?"
Franziska straightened her back proudly. "I hid in the corner to get some extra studying in while Papa ordered the servants about. I wanted to make sure I beat you in the mock trial the next day…and I fell asleep."
Miles laughed. "How could you even see to study in there?"
"Well, obviously it wasn't easy or I wouldn't have dozed off."
"Speaking of which that walk has me terribly tired. Care to join me in bed?"
Smiling, Miles bowed his head, ever the servant to his Prosecutor-of-World-Renown.