Lack of Gravity
During one of the long plane rides to Europe, a comment from teenage Franziska leads to a deeper, more meaningful revelation from Edgeworth.
--
"You are less of a fool than I thought, Miles Edgeworth."
Edgeworth shifted in his airline seat, the leather molding comfortably against him as he turned to look directly at his sister. She relaxed beside him, slender limbs elegantly folded into the spacious chair, a thoughtful look on her face. The plane rides between Frankfurt and Los Angeles were long, though the first-class accommodations helped ease the inconvenience of the trip, and occasionally Franziska would spend the time verbally sparring with him. Across the aisle and several seats behind them, Manfred von Karma was engrossed in his legal files, paying them no attention. Sensing the same opportunity to speak more freely, Edgeworth decided to take her bait.
"In what way, Franziska?"
Smirking, she absently stroked the length of her whip. It had recently replaced her riding crop, and the extra range had proven useful for her, if not painful for him.
"You resisted the overtures of that simpering witness."
He frowned, recalling the trial earlier in the week. "Overtures?"
Franziska rolled her eyes, a habit she had not yet outgrown. "Even you must have noticed the way she behaved. How she changed her posture toward you to show off her cleavage, and how she attempted to turn everything you said into an innuendo." She sniffed, disdain clear.
Edgeworth settled back, arms crossed, expression softening into something more pensive. "Her behavior was irrelevant. The only thing about her which interested me was her testimony."
Franziska nodded to herself, satisfied. "Good. Had you shown her any favor I'd have been compelled to rebuke you for your error."
Lips twitching into a smirk at the authoritative tone in her voice, Edgeworth pressed on. "Error?"
She threw him a stony glare. "You are not a parrot. Stop repeating my words."
"If you were more direct with your statements, I would feel no need to clarify." He returned her glare with a pointed one of his own.
The tension sparked between them for a moment, territorial and belligerent; but it quickly dissipated once Franziska glanced away. She toyed with the end of her whip, brows scrunching, cheeks tinting pink. Like her father, Franziska was loathe to admit to being less than perfect; unlike Manfred, however, she was learning to handle criticism. Quietly, she made her meaning clear.
"That woman would not befit the von Karma name. Papa would not have approved of you involving yourself in a romantic entanglement with her."
Edgeworth remained silent. His relationship with his sister was complicated, to say the least, though they were often each other's only source of support. Their conversations were usually limited to the practice of law, or the affairs of the von Karma family, or etiquette. They had rarely broached the topic of attraction. Given the difference in their age it hardly seemed appropriate.
He had been alone as he grew to understand how he was attracted to others - or more accurately, how he was not. Contrary to the stereotypes of adolescent boys and young men, he felt neither sexual nor romantic attraction to others. While he felt confident and secure in his own identity, he knew such preferences might make others feel uncomfortable; it was a knowledge he kept to himself. Not precisely a secret, but a part of himself he did not share with others. The prospect of confiding in another was… tempting.
If Franziska were mature enough to comment on matters of overtures and innuendos, perhaps he could trust her to understand what had taken him so long to realize on his own.
Mouth turning dry, Edgeworth considered how best to approach the subject. Incremental steps were needed.
"And if I were to choose no such entanglements with any woman?"
He hid his wariness behind a stoic mask, but something in his tone nevertheless caught Franziska's attention. She looked back at him, brows still drawn together in confusion, until they suddenly softened. Her face fell slack for a moment as she reached a new conclusion.
"Whether women or - men," she began, emphasizing the latter, "fools like that deserve no attention from you."
Ah. Here was the more difficult part: to disabuse Franziska of the notion that he might be attracted to anyone.
He gave her a direct look, his next words not spoken softly or with uncertainty, but with surety.
"And if I felt no need for entanglements at all?"
She met his eyes, her own flickering to and fro as she determined he was making no joke. "No entanglements?"
Ignoring her own parroting even after chastising him, he lifted his chin, and let his arms fall to his sides. A confidant posture. "None."
Her eyes narrowed in thought. "You desire no romantic relationships?"
He nodded.
She remained quiet, staring down into her lap as she turned his words over, examining them from every angle. "Then you feel no craving for any sort of emotional bond?"
"That's not quite right. I am satisfied with the types of bonds I have now and would not object to similar ones in the future. I simply have no wish to forge any romantic ones." This was the trickiest idea, and truthfully the part of his orientation that took him the most time to comprehend. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction.
She snapped her gaze back at him, determined, like when she found an inconsistency in a police report submitted as evidence for a trial. "But you are an adult male," she stated, eyes alight. "That must mean you have some drive for- for intimate relations with others." She stumbled as she finished, flush blossoming on her cheeks once more and quickly turning crimson.
Edgeworth wagged his finger at her. "Do not let stereotypes guide your thinking, Franziska."
Once again she fell still, inwardly focused on her thoughts. Edgeworth could sense the tension build between them again, but it was of a different caliber: not indignant or defensive, but more considering and, he admitted, more anxious.
"I am… curious, as to your thoughts." A spike of hesitation speared into his heart, and he attempted to convince himself that he merely was curious. After all, he was only accountable to himself.
Franziska drew in a long, deep breath. "It matters not to me who you find or do not find attractive, Miles Edgeworth. Nor with whom you have a relationship, or not." She turned in her seat again, back straight, decision made. She met his look head-on. "So long as you remain my little brother."
If they belonged to a different family, Edgeworth might have pulled her into a hug. Instead, he offered her a small, relieved smile. "Your consideration is noted."
She folded her arms across her chest, brow furrowed. "And perhaps you have given me… ideas, to ponder," she admitted, avoiding his surprised stare.
He would not press her. It was difficult enough to discuss his own orientation, with his preferences clearly formed. Franziska would likely wish to consider her own preferences by herself, until she had found her perfect conclusion. Edgeworth relaxed back into his seat.
And if she needed to confide in him, he would be waiting.
--
Author's Notes: This was written for the 2014 Ace Attorney Feystivus celebration on Tumblr, and the recipient wanted a story about an asexual, aromantic Edgeworth discussing his romantic preferences (or lack thereof) with Franziska. The title comes from Edgeworth's lack of sexual attraction to anyone; gravity is the force of attraction, so one could say he has a lack of gravity. Additionally, I've learned that discussing sexual and romantic preferences can be filled with apprehension and worry about acceptance. I wanted to show that despite the metaphorical weight of their conversation, Franziska still accepts Edgeworth as he is, that his confession was not so heavy after all.
--
"You are less of a fool than I thought, Miles Edgeworth."
Edgeworth shifted in his airline seat, the leather molding comfortably against him as he turned to look directly at his sister. She relaxed beside him, slender limbs elegantly folded into the spacious chair, a thoughtful look on her face. The plane rides between Frankfurt and Los Angeles were long, though the first-class accommodations helped ease the inconvenience of the trip, and occasionally Franziska would spend the time verbally sparring with him. Across the aisle and several seats behind them, Manfred von Karma was engrossed in his legal files, paying them no attention. Sensing the same opportunity to speak more freely, Edgeworth decided to take her bait.
"In what way, Franziska?"
Smirking, she absently stroked the length of her whip. It had recently replaced her riding crop, and the extra range had proven useful for her, if not painful for him.
"You resisted the overtures of that simpering witness."
He frowned, recalling the trial earlier in the week. "Overtures?"
Franziska rolled her eyes, a habit she had not yet outgrown. "Even you must have noticed the way she behaved. How she changed her posture toward you to show off her cleavage, and how she attempted to turn everything you said into an innuendo." She sniffed, disdain clear.
Edgeworth settled back, arms crossed, expression softening into something more pensive. "Her behavior was irrelevant. The only thing about her which interested me was her testimony."
Franziska nodded to herself, satisfied. "Good. Had you shown her any favor I'd have been compelled to rebuke you for your error."
Lips twitching into a smirk at the authoritative tone in her voice, Edgeworth pressed on. "Error?"
She threw him a stony glare. "You are not a parrot. Stop repeating my words."
"If you were more direct with your statements, I would feel no need to clarify." He returned her glare with a pointed one of his own.
The tension sparked between them for a moment, territorial and belligerent; but it quickly dissipated once Franziska glanced away. She toyed with the end of her whip, brows scrunching, cheeks tinting pink. Like her father, Franziska was loathe to admit to being less than perfect; unlike Manfred, however, she was learning to handle criticism. Quietly, she made her meaning clear.
"That woman would not befit the von Karma name. Papa would not have approved of you involving yourself in a romantic entanglement with her."
Edgeworth remained silent. His relationship with his sister was complicated, to say the least, though they were often each other's only source of support. Their conversations were usually limited to the practice of law, or the affairs of the von Karma family, or etiquette. They had rarely broached the topic of attraction. Given the difference in their age it hardly seemed appropriate.
He had been alone as he grew to understand how he was attracted to others - or more accurately, how he was not. Contrary to the stereotypes of adolescent boys and young men, he felt neither sexual nor romantic attraction to others. While he felt confident and secure in his own identity, he knew such preferences might make others feel uncomfortable; it was a knowledge he kept to himself. Not precisely a secret, but a part of himself he did not share with others. The prospect of confiding in another was… tempting.
If Franziska were mature enough to comment on matters of overtures and innuendos, perhaps he could trust her to understand what had taken him so long to realize on his own.
Mouth turning dry, Edgeworth considered how best to approach the subject. Incremental steps were needed.
"And if I were to choose no such entanglements with any woman?"
He hid his wariness behind a stoic mask, but something in his tone nevertheless caught Franziska's attention. She looked back at him, brows still drawn together in confusion, until they suddenly softened. Her face fell slack for a moment as she reached a new conclusion.
"Whether women or - men," she began, emphasizing the latter, "fools like that deserve no attention from you."
Ah. Here was the more difficult part: to disabuse Franziska of the notion that he might be attracted to anyone.
He gave her a direct look, his next words not spoken softly or with uncertainty, but with surety.
"And if I felt no need for entanglements at all?"
She met his eyes, her own flickering to and fro as she determined he was making no joke. "No entanglements?"
Ignoring her own parroting even after chastising him, he lifted his chin, and let his arms fall to his sides. A confidant posture. "None."
Her eyes narrowed in thought. "You desire no romantic relationships?"
He nodded.
She remained quiet, staring down into her lap as she turned his words over, examining them from every angle. "Then you feel no craving for any sort of emotional bond?"
"That's not quite right. I am satisfied with the types of bonds I have now and would not object to similar ones in the future. I simply have no wish to forge any romantic ones." This was the trickiest idea, and truthfully the part of his orientation that took him the most time to comprehend. He watched her closely, gauging her reaction.
She snapped her gaze back at him, determined, like when she found an inconsistency in a police report submitted as evidence for a trial. "But you are an adult male," she stated, eyes alight. "That must mean you have some drive for- for intimate relations with others." She stumbled as she finished, flush blossoming on her cheeks once more and quickly turning crimson.
Edgeworth wagged his finger at her. "Do not let stereotypes guide your thinking, Franziska."
Once again she fell still, inwardly focused on her thoughts. Edgeworth could sense the tension build between them again, but it was of a different caliber: not indignant or defensive, but more considering and, he admitted, more anxious.
"I am… curious, as to your thoughts." A spike of hesitation speared into his heart, and he attempted to convince himself that he merely was curious. After all, he was only accountable to himself.
Franziska drew in a long, deep breath. "It matters not to me who you find or do not find attractive, Miles Edgeworth. Nor with whom you have a relationship, or not." She turned in her seat again, back straight, decision made. She met his look head-on. "So long as you remain my little brother."
If they belonged to a different family, Edgeworth might have pulled her into a hug. Instead, he offered her a small, relieved smile. "Your consideration is noted."
She folded her arms across her chest, brow furrowed. "And perhaps you have given me… ideas, to ponder," she admitted, avoiding his surprised stare.
He would not press her. It was difficult enough to discuss his own orientation, with his preferences clearly formed. Franziska would likely wish to consider her own preferences by herself, until she had found her perfect conclusion. Edgeworth relaxed back into his seat.
And if she needed to confide in him, he would be waiting.
--
Author's Notes: This was written for the 2014 Ace Attorney Feystivus celebration on Tumblr, and the recipient wanted a story about an asexual, aromantic Edgeworth discussing his romantic preferences (or lack thereof) with Franziska. The title comes from Edgeworth's lack of sexual attraction to anyone; gravity is the force of attraction, so one could say he has a lack of gravity. Additionally, I've learned that discussing sexual and romantic preferences can be filled with apprehension and worry about acceptance. I wanted to show that despite the metaphorical weight of their conversation, Franziska still accepts Edgeworth as he is, that his confession was not so heavy after all.