Author's Note

Please be aware that this piece is a companion fiction to the ongoing story "Grey Skyes". Although I recommend that this be read in context, this companion piece may also be read as a stand-a-lone. Now, for those who do not know, in Chapter Five, As Glass Cuts, A Ruler Will Bruise, Miles Edgeworth recieved a call from his half-sister Franziska Von Karma. In this piece, we will see that chapter through the eyes of Franziska von Karma. (Please note that I have never written for Franziska von Karma and tend to see her in a very different light than she is portrayed in the games.) Thank you, and enjoy.

Keep Reading! Your Author,


P.S.: For your convience, I have translated the German language back into English for readers who have already struggled through As Glass Cuts, A Ruler Will Bruise. These changes are in bold, and the English sentences spoke between the brother and sister are also in bold. I have also decided to place an extra scene starring Franziska and her father for all my lovely readers.

Companion Piece :

He Will Always Be My Little Brother

Part One of Two:

My Brother, The Fool

October 20,

12 : 45 p.m - Germany, von Karma Residence.

"The shame! Have you no honor, Edgeworth? Defeated twice by the same child attorney. To think such stains will forever burden the von Karma name! To think father still allows you bear the title ..." Not for the first time, I, German Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, found myself chastising the foolishly foolish fool Miles Edgeworth. Having lost two coutroom trials with the same rookie Defense Attorney, a fool of a rookie by the name of Phoenix Wright, I have lost lall my patience for my adopted brother. Though likely, not for the reason he suspects.

I heard my adoptive brother take what seemed a nervous deep breath, and I rolled my eyes. What, did he think I was going to lash him with my riding crop?...Actually, on accound of my frustration at him and his predicament, I would... He spoke after several moments, in a cold, calm tone that surprised me.

"I believe Mr. Wright won both trials fairly, Franziska. As for our Father, I have thanked him time and time again for his mercy regarding my failings; I do not believe anything more can be done."

As I listened to him, I became more and more furious with him. It was not just his voice that angered me, it was his coldness. Although yes, I admit my statements before were a tad harsh, I did not mean to insult him.He countinued, "A loss is a loss, Franziska; though I doubt you would understand that."

On account of "you would not understand", I do not think he understands the danger he is currently in, the prediament I called him (something I have been forbidden to do by my father) to warn him of. My father, his adoptive father, was furious with him, and that could only spell disaster for my little brother. Worried, I felt my temper slip from my grasp for the first time in quite a while. Emotions, my father has taught me, were for the weak. I obviously was not weak. Drastic times call for drastic measures; one of my first memories was something I remember my mother, now long dead, told me.

"Foolishly foolish fool! This is not about those losses! Father may have forgiven you, but he was, and still is, in a terrible rage!"

Despite whatever my father thought of me, I was not a fool. Although it started before my half-brother began his desent into dishonor, he had been in a terrible mood. His trials were perfect wins, not a damper on his honor, yet he seemed...troubled. Our lessons left me with more bruises from his accursed ruler than knowledge. I fought back a sigh, allowing my real concern to surface in my next words, which were quiet. I was, of course, running a terrible risk of being found by my father. If he heard these words, it would likely spell end for both of us.

"...As foolishly foolish as you are, Edgeworth...I don't want to see you stripped of our name, brother. Stop taking cases if you have to. Father will be most disappointed if you fail once again- especially to that foolishly foolish fool Wright."

As he formulated his response, I quietly walked across my bedroom carpet, opening the door just a crack. I saw nothing but the afternoon light shining through the corridor windows. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, I closed my door again. I would have locked it, but if my father did happen to enter while I was speaking to Miles, it would only create more problems than it would solve. The law never stopped my father, what chance did a mere oak door have?

"I will take your advice to heart, Franziska, though you must realize that it will be much harder to do than to say. Things here in America are never as simple as they are in Germany, you see."

Before I could stop myself, I said under my breath, "Foolishly foolish Americans." My brother, the best American Prosecutor despite his dishonor to the von Karma name, is in danger, and those fools dared to tell him when he will take cases and when he will not? Foolishly foolish fools. If I were there, I would likely lose my temper with them and lash them all. From the corridor, I thought I heard footsteps.

Feeling just a tad bit shaky, I spoke again after a short, tense pause. "You must be very careful, Edgeworth." I felt foolish for whispering, but realizing the footsteps were not just a figment of my imagination, I knew I must speak quickly, warn my brother of the danger he may be in- my penalty be damned. "Father is very angry, although from what you have said, it would seem he doesn't show it outwardly when he speaks with you. But I am here in Germany with him, and he seems to be -"

My wooden door opened. I stopped speaking, taking a preemptive, cautionary step back. My father emerged through the light that came into my bedroom, and I cursed myself silently. Now that the penalty faced me, I almost regretted warning my brother.


"Franziska, daughter, who are you speaking to?"

There was still a chance out of this. My father had just presented my opprotunity to me on a silver plater - though I very much doubted I could pull it off. Nonetheless, for the sake of my brother and for the sake of myself, I had to try.

"Father, I am speaking to a client."

Lying to your father is not something I would reccomend if you wanted to avoid even more trouble, especially if you are not well-versed in lying to him. But then again, this was not a normal household, nor was this a normal "father-daughter" situation. Drastic situations call for drastic measures. My voice sounded calm to me. I spoke into the reciever again, intent on warning Miles of his prediament (and mine) and of just who had interrupted our conversation.

"Foolishly foolish fool, be more careful! You may be in danger, and I cannot help you if you continue to act this way." I hoped he knew just how much I have risked by calling him, by giving him my warning about my father. He did not speak, but I knew he was listening. I had not disconnected the line. My father, meanwhile, had crossed his arms. I knew instantly that he did not trust my word.

"I do not believe you. Give me the phone, Fransizka."

"Father-" I believe my gaze told him that I would not surrender it willingly. Moving faster than I would have previously thought impossible, he snatched the device from my hands and knocked me away, though not enough to injure me, or enough to send me to my bedroom carpet. I did gasp in surprise, however. Straightening myself, I stood, motionless, feeling rather defeated. What a disgusting emotion.

Was this, this defeated feeling, what my younger brother was telling me I 'don't understand'?

"What is the meaning of this, contacting Franziska so? Have you not stained her name enough, just by thinking it?" My heart sunk as my father spoke, dark malice in his deep voice.I had no choice now but to listen to my father, gather all the information I could, and hope that foolishly foolish fool could somehow placate him.

Somehow, I heard his reply, calm and collected as ever. "I meant no disrespect, father." We both knew that this call itself was of the highest disrespect. "I needed advice for my current situation in America, and I believed Franziska could provide that for me. I called her," Miles lied calmly, and I believed my father's narrowing eyes said that he knew that particular detail. He was trying to lessen the penalty he and I knew was sure to come. I was touched; but he and I knew that, in light of my betrayal, nothing could stop him completely. "And will have apologized to her when we speak again."

And the sad part was that I knew my brother would apologize, too, that noble, foolishly foolish fool.

I could not help but flinch when my father's furious voice boomed throughout the room. I have rarely seen my father so angry, and, I am ashamed to admit that it frightened me. "Your situation in America is hopeless! You will not drag my daughter down with you when you fall! I will not allow it!" Glad to know he loves me. "You have failed us, and your presense and lowly name will not be tolerated any more!" I flinched again, my eyes closing briefly as I braced myself for his next demand, one of which I knew would come following such a harsh statement.

"You will not contact Franziska again!" The blow came harder than I expected. More painful. I clenched my fists, though I did not object nor try to defend my brother. I looked away, ashamed of my father's words, and of my own weakness. "Do you understand?"

"I do understand, father." He knew it was much, much too dangerous to agrue now. His next words, however, surprised me. I fought back a tiny gasp- instead, I blinked several times. "However, I ask for one last word with Franziska. Three minutes, that is all I ask."

"Damn boy." My father spat in disgust. I was relieved that my brother did not hear him. My father tossed me the device. I caught it in some surprise, though I would wager he saw this 'final goodbye' as a painful event for us both. Quite fitting for the beginning of my penalty, I'm sure.

As he left, I rose the phone to my ear once more, wearily watching my father. "You wanted to speak with me?" I did not speak in German, but in English, and I watched in some satisfaction as my father threw me a disgusted, infuriated glare that sent a small shiver down my spine. The slam of the oak door rang through my bedroom and likely followed my father through the corridor. I would pay for my transgressions later; but for now, I concentrated on my younger brother.

"I am sorry, Franziska." He sighed. I heard the sorrow in his voice; I heard his restrained anger at my situation. "I have just made day-to-day life with your father a bit more unpleasant for you."

I mimicked his sigh with a small, private smile. I enjoyed teasing my younger brother. "No, you have not." I answered honestly, surprising myself at doing so, closing my eyes briefly before continuing, believing it to not make a difference whether he knew this or not. "Life had already been unpleasant here; I have merely added oil to the fire. He has been in a terrible mood, even before you began your losing streak. It seems you are not the only foolishly foolish fool to foolishly irritate my father these days."

"You do enjoy that word, don't you?" I could not help but chuckle at his foolishly foolish question. I did enjoy saying that phrase. And besides, it described him beautifully. I did not respond until I was sure my laughter had subsided. My voice was quieter as I apologized, that hopeless feeling I have felt since his departure to America returning.

"I must apologize, too." I told him. Although it was obvious he has never felt love for our von Karma name, we, or at least I, was his only relative, the only family he had. I felt beyond guilty, responsible for his loss of that. "I obviously overheard what he told you. I should not have called you."

"I'm glad you did."

That silly, emotional, stupid, foolishly foolish fool of a fool. I smiled thinly, though it quickly disappeared when I heard my father speak. I knew he had heard every word I had said to him. I covered the reciever with a hand to ensure my brother did not have to hear my father speak.

"Mittags Unterricht beginnen in fünf Minuten, Franziska." He said from the corridor, and I froze at he sheer menace in his dark voice, "Sie werden in die Bibliothek kommen dann. Erwarten Sie Ihren Unterricht auf sehr späten Abend laufen, und erwarten, dass sie sich als sehr schwierig. Sie haben mich sehr heute enttäuscht, Tochter. Beachten Sie, dass, wie Sie durch diesen Lektionen."

I felt another, colder shiver run down my spine.

When she was sure he was finished speaking, she said quietly, "It is time for the noon lessons." Iwas cetain that my brother knew what that meant; it was implied, after all, and he was quite intelligent. After several moments, he spoke again, softly.

"I'm sorry, Franziska." There he went, apologizing again. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, ready to tell him he was a foolishly foolish fool for apologizing when he has done nothing wrong, when he spoke once more. "I am forever your brother."

I stared blankly ahead in surprise. It was cheesy, it was cliche- but it was perfect. I felt myself smile, and for the first time in quite a while, I meant it. I took a deep breath, and, aware that my father stood outside, able to hear my every word, I spoke just as softly. "As I am forever your sister, be damned whatever name we are under."

After a tense goodbye, I ended the call. Scarcely breathing, I made my way across my bedroom carpet and opened the door to reveal only a corridor filled with light. Composing myself, I slowly made my away down the corridor, down the stairs.

Before the oak doors of the library within what felt like an eternity later, fear growing inside of me like some sort of fungi, quick and strong, I took a small, yet somehow warming comfort in reminding myself of my foolishly foolish brother.

:: -Grey Skyes- ::

Author's Note:

I need only translate one simple statement from the above Fiction. What Manfred von Karma said to his daughter in the German language was: "Noon lessons begin in five minutes, Franziska. You will come to the library then. Expect your lessons to run very late tonight, and expect them to be very difficult. You have disappointed me greatly today, daughter. Remember that as you go through these lessons."

I would like to remind the reader that I have never wrote for Franziska von Karma or Manfred von Karma before. I hope they seem realistic, or at least that this fiction was good enough to wipe aside my mistakes.

Lastly, I will be posting a second, and perhaps a third chapter to this story. It is only a Companion Piece to "Grey Skyes", but I very much enjoyed writing.

Review and Keep Reading!