A/N: Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright don't belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. Other incidental characters, both Confederate and Union soldiers, are mine. General James Longstreet, General Braxton Bragg and General Nathan Bedford Forrest are real historical figures and Confederate officers. I've used Lieutenant General James Longstreet fictitiously.
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Lieutenant General James Longstreet is out for a stroll and comes across a disgruntled soldier. After finding out from him the trouble, he requests a meeting with Major General Phoenix Wright upon his return.
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Chapter 4! :) This chapter was a bit longer than I expected it to be but I'm not at all unhappy with the way it turned out! :) Originally, it was over 9 pages long so I decided to cut some of it out and put it into chapter 5. I'm very pleased that it worked out so well! :)
General James Longstreet, principal subordinate to General Robert E. Lee, is my favourite-my only favourite, really-Confederate commanding general. I had originally intended to use General Thomas J. Jackson, aka "Stonewall" Jackson, as Phoenix's commanding officer but realized that he wouldn't be the best choice for this reason: Phoenix's homosexuality is an open secret for most in his Brigade and the deeply religious Jackson wouldn't at all be okay with that. Longstreet, in contrast, seems much more open minded about that sort of thing and it wouldn't bother him. I honestly have no idea what his actual thoughts on the subject really were but I can see him as being much more concerned about matters military than those of the heart; he's more worried about Phoenix's dashing off to see his lover-and could possibly end up getting shot for his trouble-than he is that Phoenix is gay and has a male lover that fights for the Union.
I've also played about with real history as well in this piece: I've made my Longstreet younger than he actually was-he was 40 years old in 1861-in order to fit in with the timeline I've employed for my Civil War AU. I've also had him attending the University of Virginia with Phoenix and Miles to establish a relationship between the three men, who are close friends, and then going on to West Point Military Academy afterward. Historically, he went to West Point-and not the University of Virginia-in 1838 but was a poor student, and a disciplinary problem, graduating 54th out of 56 cadets in 1842. (I KNEW there was a reason I liked him! :D ) He also had the temerity to argue with General Lee AGAINST making the assault-Pickett's Charge-because he knew it would fail which it ultimately did which is something else I appreciate. *I used the same method that was used in the movie "Gettysburg" which is where I saw it: lifting his hand when asked to proceed with the attack since he was unable to speak. Historically, he apparently bowed but still remained silent.*
I'm DEFINITELY going to write more fics with Longstreet appearing. :D [Information on Longstreet taken from a Wikipedia article on James Longstreet.]
The Pickett-Pettigrew Assault, popularly known as Pickett's Charge (the reason for this is that Virginian newspapers praised Pickett's Virginia division as making the most progress during the charge, and the papers used Pickett's comparative success as a means of criticizing the actions of the other states' troops during the charge. It was this publicity that played a significant factor in selecting the name Pickett's Charge. -Wikipedia article on "Pickett's Charge"), occurred on July 3, 1863, the final day of the Battle of Gettysburg that resulted in the loss of his Division. *There were also two other Confederate divisions-under the commands of General Trimble and General Pettigrew-that made up the assaulting forces along with General Pickett's; also, their Brigades and Divisions and the commanders under their command.* Pickett was inconsolable for the rest of the day and never forgave Lee for ordering the charge. He was a very bitter man and held Lee responsible for that until the day he died. *To his credit, Lee did say to returning soldiers and General Wilcox that it was his fault for the failure of the assault.*
Anyway, hope you enjoy this latest chapter!
Thanks to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)
Thank you to my beta reader, Pearls1990, for her AWESOME beta reading! Much appreciated! :)
Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging when necessary and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!
Information on James Longstreet and Pickett's Charge are taken from Wikipedia articles on "James Longstreet" and "Pickett's Charge."
Comments are appreciated and constructive criticism is welcomed.
Rated Teen, Historical/Drama/Romance, Phoenix x Edgeworth, male x male relationships, American Civil War [1861-1865]
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May 27, 1864
Confederate camp of Lieutenant General James "Old Pete" Longstreet
Camp of the Army of Northern Virginia
Outside Henrico County, Virginia
5 P.M.
Lieutenant General James Longstreet walked slowly through the camp, smiling and saluting those he came across as he made his way to the field hospital on the outward perimeter. He did this frequently after battles to check on his men and to see the wounded; he knew that they appreciated his visits so it was never something that he took lightly, especially where their comfort and care were concerned.
He stopped by each bed, saying a good word or simply by holding a hand that was shakily held out to him. His heart ached when he saw the mortally wounded, drawing in their last, torturous breaths, crying out the name of their sweetheart, wife or dear parents as they died, often in agonizing pain while he could do nothing except hold their hand until a final, soft breath told of their demise. He would bow his head, say a silent prayer and then move on to the next bed to comfort the next soldier.
To him, the latter was more the truth as of late than had been in the previous three years of the War. In the heady days when the Confederates had scored victory after victory, it seemed that their independence was all but assured; now that the Union army had once again begun a drive toward Richmond, it behooved them to try and stop them. With the defeat at Gettysburg in July of 1863, it seemed that the sheer numbers of the men lost wasn't worth the price that had been paid for it in blood.
That rankled him even now after nearly a year after the battle. He still felt a twinge of guilt at the loss of General George Pickett's division in that ill advised march across that mile of open field that was known as "Pickett's Charge." He knew it was a suicide mission, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would end in failure and knew that it would only result in the deaths of men that the Confederacy, at this point, couldn't afford to lose.
He hadn't wanted to give the command but when General Pickett asked, he lifted his hand slowly, unable to speak and give voice to the order for the attack that he knew was futile. What else could he have done? General Lee had wanted it and although he had argued against it until he was hoarse, he was forced to concede to the General's wishes and order the attack. He knew that those brave boys didn't stand a chance against the entrenched Federal Army behind that stone wall and he could do nothing except to watch helplessly as the Confederate colors went down as the two clashed.
He shook his head hard, coming out of those vastly unpleasant memories with a start. What was done was done and there was no point in reliving the past; they had to look forward and do their duty. That was what it all came down to and the reason why he and his brave boys were there: duty. Duty to their state. Duty to their commanding general. Duty to fight to the last to ensure their freedom.
He took a deep breath, rubbing his tired eyes with gloved fingers. He stepped outside of the tent, lighting a cigar and smoking as he slowly walked down the path that led away from the hospital, thinking his own private thoughts.
He was interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Wilkes who was stomping by and muttering under his breath. Lieutenant General Longstreet stopped on the side of the path, touching his fingers to the tip of his slouch hat.
"Good evening, Sergeant Wilkes," he said in greeting and the surly Sergeant stopped in his tracks, whirling around and saluting, Longstreet's amused steel blue eyes twinkling merrily.
"Good evening, Sir!" he replied as Longstreet returned the salute.
"Nice evening, isn't it, Sergeant?"
"Indeed it is, Sir." Sergeant Wilkes took off his kepi, wiping the sweat from his forehead before he put it back on, pulling the lip down over his eyes. Longstreet couldn't help wondering how the good Sergeant could see where he was going with his cap pulled down so low like that. He reasoned that, since the late and lamented General "Stonewall" Jackson had done the very same thing, that he probably could see just fine. "Hopefully, it will be cooler on the morrow."
He nodded, taking a deep drag on his cigar, blowing out ribbons of smoke that curled and twisted in the cool night air. The Sergeant and Lieutenant General stood for a long time in silence, watching as the sun slowly set, stars twinkling in the twilight sky.
"I noticed that you were in rather a huff earlier when we met." Longstreet took another long puff of his cigar. "Is there anything wrong?"
Sergeant Wilkes had the grace to blush. "Well, Sir..." he began, deeply embarrassed if the dirty red stain in his cheeks was any indication. "I-"
"Yes?" Longstreet waited for the good man to continue. He knew that Sergeant Wilkes was a conscientious soldier and took his duties very seriously and, to see him that upset and muttering meant that there was something awry, indeed.
Sergeant Wilkes got even redder, his mouth working but no sound emerging which only served to confirm his suspicions: something was definitely amiss and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Longstreet frowned.
"Sergeant-" He had the sneaking suspicion that he was afraid to say what was on his mind for fear of reprisal from his commanding officer and wondered which officer had so offended his sensibilities - "you can speak your mind freely with me. In fact, I'd prefer it if you and all the enlisted men did. If there's a problem, its my duty to find out and fix it, if I can, but I can't do that if I don't know what's going on." He waited a few moments for Sergeant Wilkes to compose himself. "Please."
"Well, Sir... it's..." He stopped again, swallowing hard.
"Yes?" Longstreet waited impatiently for the man to speak.
"It's the... the... Major General, Sir."
Longstreet's eyebrow rose in surprise. There was only one person he knew in his Brigade that held that title.
Did he just say who I thought he said? Major General... Wright?
He had been expecting a name like General Braxton Bragg who was well known for his tart tongue and monstrous ego or even General Nathan Bedford Forrest who also had a short fuse and bullying ways but he hadn't anticipated hearing that particular name.
Sergeant Wilkes hastened to explain once he saw the Lieutenant General's poleaxed expression.
"Oh, no, Sir, it's nothing like that!" He stopped a moment, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. "He... he..."
"Slow down, Sergeant and start at the beginning." Longstreet did his best to soothe the agitated man, trying hard not to let the smile he could feel tugging at the corners of his mouth spread over his face.
It was common knowledge that Longstreet and Major General Wright were close friends, along with Colonel Edgeworth, a friendship stretching back to their time at the University of Virginia before he went on to West Point and Phoenix and Miles went on to a law career.
"Now, tell me what the good Major General did." He grinned wryly, putting the good sergeant at ease almost immediately. He had a good idea of what Sergeant Wilkes was going to tell him but he wanted to hear it from him personally.
I suspect that Phoenix badgered him into saddling up his horse in order to go and see Colonel Edgeworth. He chuckled quietly to himself. He'd been antsy for some time and I knew that he would probably go to see him at some point.
"Well, Sir," Sergeant Wilkes began again, "it's like this." And it all came pouring out: Major General Wright had insisted that he saddle up his horse, Samson, so he could go to the Union picket line some miles distant in order to visit Colonel Edgeworth; Major Shaw had insisted accompanying him since he was afraid that he would get himself shot and there would be hell to pay if Longstreet himself found out; that Major General Wright was certain that they would be well received by the Federal forces since they carried the flag of truce and now, since they hadn't returned as of yet, he was fearful that something had happened to the both of them and that he would be held accountable.
"At any rate, Sir," he concluded, "those damned fools may very well have gotten themselves shot and I'm worried that they have." He fell silent, looking at the ground. "That's why I was muttering." He paused. "Sir."
Longstreet smiled, placing his hand on Sergeant Wilkes' arm. He could feel how tense the man was although he slowly started to relax.
"It's quite all right, sergeant," he said cheerfully, squeezing his arm affectionately. "I know Major General Wright and have for many years, as you well know." Sergeant Wilkes nodded. "I know damned well that he is headstrong and impetuous or, as I have often heard both enlisted and officers alike say of him, a 'damned fool.'" He chuckled, as did Sergeant Wilkes who nodded vigorously in agreement.
"I wouldn't worry too much about those two." He smiled, clapping Sergeant Wilkes on the back who looked relieved that he wouldn't be punished for ratting out the Major General or the commanding general holding him responsible if something happened to both he and Major Shaw. "I'm sure that the two of them are fine and already charming the Federals." Longstreet grinned. "Major General Wright does have that silver tongue, after all, and I've seen him talk himself out of many a sticky situation before over the years. Major Shaw is in good hands; I wouldn't worry about either of them, Sergeant Wilkes."
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, relief evident in his voice. Despite them oftentimes being at loggerheads, Sergeant Wilkes genuinely loved, and respected, Major General Wright and Longstreet knew it. He wasn't tattling to him to be cruel; on the contrary, he was because he was worried about his welfare and that of Major Shaw.
"Sergeant," Longstreet said just as Sergeant Wilkes was starting to turn around and he craned his head to look at his commanding officer curiously.
"Sir?"
"On your way back, would you find Lieutenant Markham and tell him that I would like to speak with Major General Wright once he returns?" Longstreet smiled as he took another puff of his cigar. "Tell him to come to my quarters at his earliest convenience."
"Yes, Sir!" Sergeant Wilkes saluted smartly as he turned on his heel and marched off down the path. Longstreet watched him until he was lost to sight, chuckling to himself. He sighed, taking a deep breath and continuing to puff on his cigar, watching the curls of smoke twisting as they slowly spiraled upward.
He knew very well why Major General Wright had gone to the Union picket line: he knew that his friend, and Union lover, Colonel Miles Edgeworth, was camped out nearby with his Brigade. He had to give Phoenix credit for chutzpah; he'd never known anyone else with so little sense of self-preservation to hare off to the Federal's camp in order to see his lover.
He surmised that the Federals were probably surprised to see two Confederate officers in their midst although he did worry that even his glib tongue wouldn't be enough to stave off the trouble he could see coming from their impromptu arrival.
It's more like they won't know what hit them when he comes storming in to see Miles... He chuckled heartily at the thought, taking a long puff on his cigar, blew out the smoke in rings and started to make his way down the path that led to his quarters. I wish I would be there to see the commotion although I have the feeling that I'll hear about it soon enough.
He couldn't help but laugh as he walked back to his quarters, drawing the curious stares of those he passed by.
I do have to tell him to reign it in somewhat...
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May 27, 1864
Confederate camp of Lieutenant General James "Old Pete" Longstreet
Camp of the Army of Northern Virginia
Outside Henrico County, Virginia
6 P.M.
We arrived back around six o'clock that evening, both Major Shaw and myself startled by a shout and the sight of Lieutenant Markham, Lieutenant General Longstreet's aide-de-camp, rushing over to greet us as we rode into camp. After we had dismounted and exchanged salutes, he informed me that the Lieutenant General wanted to see me in his quarters at my earliest convenience.
Both Major Shaw and I exchanged glances and I nodded, telling Lieutenant Markham that I would be happy to see the Lieutenant General after I finished stabling Samson and had a chance to wash up and change my uniform. He nodded, saluted and hurried away, leaving both Major Shaw and myself looking after him. He looked at me and I shook my head; he shrugged and turned away, Nemo following behind him.
The last thing I needed was for my aide-to-camp to tell me "I told you so." I hated that phrase and couldn't imagine why he wanted to see me.
I wonder what he wants to see me about...
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, chewing on my lower lip. I had the sinking feeling that I was to be taken to task for racing off to see Miles, my Union lover; there wasn't any other reason that I could think of why "Old Pete" would want to see me.
I made my way to the stable and, after I'd groomed and fed Samson, I went to my quarters, washing up quickly and changing into a new uniform, strapping my ceremonial sword onto my belt and picking up my hat as I walked out the door, closing it behind me.
I walked down the path toward where Lieutenant General Longstreet and his staff were housed, returning the salute of Corporal Stuart who was passing by. I could feel my stomach churning with nervousness the closer I came to his quarters, my mind whirling with the implications.
Why does he want to see me? I chewed on my lower lip as I walked, thinking hard. Is it because I went to see Miles yesterday? Why now? My brow furrowed. Who tattled?
I had a pretty good idea I knew the one who told Longstreet about our excursion to the Union picket line yesterday although I cut off those thoughts with a hard shake of my head as I turned the corner and started walking up the cobblestoned path.
I opened the gate, walked through and strode up the sidewalk and onto the porch. I stopped at the door and stated my business to the young Corporal that was standing guard duty at Longstreet's quarters who nodded and disappeared into the building. I waited for a few minutes until he reemerged, telling me that I could go in and that Lieutenant General Longstreet was waiting to see me.
I nodded, thanking him and strode into the room, the good corporal closing the door behind me with a soft click. I could see the Lieutenant General deep in discussion with his adjunct and stood back in silence, a thousand thoughts rushing through my mind. I still wasn't certain why he wanted to see me but I was determined not to buy trouble before it was warranted.
I knew him well and had for many years although my anxiety was rising the longer I stood there. I also knew that he would wait to discuss matters in private and, should he feel that a dressing down was necessary, he would do that as well. He was a soldier through and through and I knew that I could count on his discretion should it come to that.
His adjunct saluted and I started when he looked up, nodded and motioned to me to come in; swallowing hard, I obeyed, inclining my head to him momentarily as he saluted and left. I stood quietly in front of his desk, noting that he was busy reading something; I assumed it was something official by the seal in the corner of the parchment.
Presently, Lieutenant General Longstreet looked up from some papers that he had spread out in front of him, an enigmatic expression on his face and I felt my heart plummet in the direction of my boots once again. His steel blue eyes were cool and gave no hint as to what he was thinking or feeling. I felt like a schoolboy in front of the schoolmaster and couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking and what he was preparing to tell me.
"Yes, Major General Wright," he began mildly, his fingers interlocked on top of his desk, his eyes never once leaving mine. "I heard that you and Major Shaw had quite the adventure the other day."
I couldn't help it. I blushed.
"Well, Sir... I..." I started to say, my cheeks a dirty crimson color.
I knew it. Who told him that I went to the Union picket line yesterday?
"I see all and know all that is going on around my camp, Major General Wright," he continued in that same mild tone of voice, "and it caused quite the to-do yesterday when you and the good Major went down to the Union picket line." He chuckled, a rich throaty sound while my cheeks burned red, a foolish smile plastering itself on my face. "It was quite the talk of the camp, I own."
"Yes... Sir..." I tried to speak but my throat was tight and I had trouble getting the words out.
"I'm not angry with you, Phoenix," he went on, his voice a mix of firm tenderness for a favorite officer and I sighed inwardly with relief, my shoulders slowly relaxing. "I know, and have known, that you and the good Colonel have been romantically involved for many years; that doesn't concern me." He waved his hand lazily. "You're a damned fine officer and a good friend although I do expect you to keep your head about you and not go haring off on the Devil's own mischief. We are in a time of War."
I let out the breath that I had been holding with a loud whoosh, my shoulders slumping in relief. Thank you, Sir.
My face flamed. I couldn't help but wonder once again who it was that had ratted us out although I suspected it to be Sergeant Wilkes. What on earth had he told Old Pete?
In the ensuing silence, I noticed that his eyes flickered over to the open window, a far away gaze appearing in them as he did so and I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking of his own loved ones and how much he missed them. I could certainly understand that feeling, missing Miles like I did.
"How is he?" he asked after some moments of silence had passed.
"He's well, Sir," I replied, "and very happy to see me although he kept repeating that I was a damned fool."
He chortled. "Well, he's not wrong there, Major General."
I chuckled in return before I sighed, longing in my voice. "I miss him very much, Lieutenant General."
He nodded, his eyes distant.
"I can understand that well, myself, Major General," he reiterated quietly. "I miss my own loved ones and I wish more than anything that I could see them again, just once before this damned War starts up again." He was silent for a moment, his eyes misting and I wondered again if he was thinking about his beloved wife, Louisa, and his children before he came back to himself with a start, smiling at me. "You have my permission to go and see him, if you like."
Did I hear him right... Did he actually say what I think he just said..?
"Thank you, Sir!" I said excitedly.
Longstreet smiled at me, waving his hand. "Say hello to Miles for me."
"I WILL! Thank you, Sir!"
We chatted for some time before I saluted him and left, walking quickly to my quarters and locking the door behind me, my heart beating madly in my chest.
I put my hand against the my pocket. It was time.