A/N: Here I am with my first story after a long hiatus from I had a previous account then, but I'm not using it any more. I'm a big fan of Larsa, and I thought, if i were to write a story with romance and Larsa in it, it would be right to make Larsa at least a little older, and of course, legal. I'm also going to make Penelo a little younger, but only a little. So here you are, the product of my mind, and my first LarsaXPenelo story. The rating might change sometime in the future, it depends. Anyway, read and review! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own FFXII or any of its characters, duh.

Commitment

Chapter One: The Splendid Plan

There were matters that were better off untouched.

And then there were matters that were better off discussed.

And those matters were the primary concern of a young lord named Larsa Ferrinas Solidor.

Or Lamont, as he'd introduce himself to those who didn't know him. He was undecipherable, unpredictable at times, and scarily mature for his age. Which was then about twelve. Other twelve-year-olds who dwelt in the streets of, example, Rabanastre, lived only to hack at the waterway-lurking dire rats for the fun of it. Or for some, for food. It was a disturbingly sad world.

Lord Larsa wanted to change that.

Peace talks, campaigns for the ending of the Archadian conquest, peaceful resolutions, everything. Larsa had a hand in almost all these matters. Most could tell that the Emperor Gramis favoured him, even more so than his elder brother Vayne, who seemed to despise the senate with a passion. Thus the wizened old men of the senate turned their eye upon the young lord Larsa, causing his guardians, Gabranth and Drace, to suspect that the senate planned to use him as a puppet once he took the throne.

But Larsa wasn't a puppet.

And there was another problem. A problem which was Larsa's power-obsessed brother Vayne. He was overly concerned about being the next Dynast-King, thus neglecting important matters of state. Following this, the Emperor Gramis was mysteriously assassinated, and Vayne had the senate arrested for treason, passing all powers of judgement over the Empire to himself. Of course, Larsa had tried to see the positive side in all of this, considering that Vayne was still his sibling. But the loss of his dear father had impacted him in ways unseen on the outside. He did not cry, no. But they all could see the morbid blankness his features took when Al-Cid took the liberty to casually announce 'The Emperor Gramis is no more. His life was taken." All Larsa could say at that point was, "Father..."

That fateful day at Mt. Bur-Omisace. It was a tragedy for House Solidor.

But for Vayne, it seemed to others that this day gave him a vital opportunity.

It was also the same day that Vayne had ordered Gabranth to execute Drace.

And thus began this complicated web of treachery, sorely labelled as Archadian politics.

This was when the young Lord Larsa realised the true workings of the world around him. Making the right decision, he chose to be against his brother, and eventually watched as Vayne died 'honourably' in battle, a lie indeed. However, Larsa did have to make it sound as though his brother was not at fault. This was to prevent further turmoil in an already war-torn world. But that was when everything stopped. Halted. And just like that, the war was over. Gabranth had entrusted Basch as Larsa's guardian before he died, and to Larsa's inner joy, peace was thus achieved.

In the weeks following, Larsa received an invitation to Ashe's coronation. The Princess who was now to be Queen. She, obviously, was not the only one to be upped a few positions higher. Larsa, previously just the twelve-year-old brother of Vayne, was now officially Archadia's young Emperor. It was a glorious event, yes. But he had restored the senate and everything to its proper position, and had travelled by airship to watch Ashe become the Queen of Dalmasca. Following that, he returned to Archades to further his rule.

That was seven years ago.

The now nineteen-year-old Emperor of a stable economy was, fairly, bored.

Basch was out on an errand of his own, visiting Dalmasca.

At least now, since the years had passed, he was now of a rather significant height, taller than most his age. Although the transition from boy to a young adult had been a rather easy one, there were those who could detect the subtle changes. But they all said these made him seem all the more attractive to the women of the Archadian court. These comments were detestable. Detestable.

It was a sleepy morning, and there was very little an Emperor could do on sleepy mornings when there were no problems to be addressed, no complaints from his subjects, nothing at all. Seated on his ornate throne where his father once sat, he started to reminisce about the old days. How every minute, there was a threat. How every second there were lives lost somewhere in Ivalice. How the late Judge Bergan had so mercilessly massacred the Kiltias on Mt. Bur-Omisace, including the Gran Kiltias Anastasis.

"Why hasn't the young Emperor married?"

It was a question that was shot at him so many times during the past years. Of course, he was aware that the Princess, now Queen Ashelia B'Nargin of Dalmasca had married young, and how, by a cruel twist of fate, her husband Rasler of Nabradia was taken from her during the fall of Nalbina Fortress. However, he wasn't sure he could deal with the aspect of marriage.

Marriage. A beneficial thing? Perhaps.

But maybe he would get married. Yes, but not very soon, he reckoned. Now he was trying to find a way to bring back the memories from his past. He wanted to dine with those he once knew, together. And together they would speak of the newer workings of Ivalice.

He was also often asked from where he received his seemingly neverending supply of hi-potions. But these sort of questions he would decline to answer. It simply wasn't necessary.

A layer of dust rose from the carpets of the throne room, the tiny grey specks illuminated faintly by the soothing rays of morning sunlight seeping in through the large glass windows. Larsa felt his eyes start to close, but then convinced himself that he would have to stay awake. He wouldn't want a subject to come bursting in and finding him fast asleep, would he? Definitely not. Putting on the sternest face he could muster, he stared daggers at the double door that faced the throne. Why he was doing this, he wasn't really sure. Concentrating on something sometimes helped.

Then it hit him.

A brilliant idea, splendid in all its worth. A tad unlikely, but possible.

A reunion feast. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? It was a great way to bring together all the friends, and perhaps some foes of his past, to discuss the events of the old days, the seven years past that had fleetingly flown by as fast as a Zu at the Ozmone Plains. In fact, he now wasn't really sure if there were still Zu's at the Ozmone Plains, considering they had become a favourite target of avion hunters.

Or perhaps it was just revenge for the unfortunate people who had so unluckily died due to a Zu attack.

Brushing thoughts about creatures of the Ozmone away from his mind, Larsa immediately got up from his throne and exited to the left into his cloister of private chambers, where he called forth some messengers. Handing them a large roll of parchment, he said, "Go, deliver messages to these people, wherever you may find them. Tell them I will be hosting a feast the next week at evening." With that, the messengers left on their duty, and Larsa returned to his throne. Still no subjects and their complaints. Good.

Feeling satisfied with himself, Larsa gave a faint smile to nobody in particular. Of course, he hadn't forgotten to invite Vaan and company, wherever they were, whether still killing dire rats or sailing through the skies. He had gotten word that Vaan was a sky pirate now. Larsa didn't particularly approve of sky pirates, but as long as they didn't do anything that was against his values, he would not bother himself with such matters.

It was at this time that Larsa realised he was late for a meeting with the senate.

Their strict on-time policy was something the young Emperor could never get used to. No matter, he hurried to the meeting hall immediately. And there they were, seated in a circle. A large throne lay empty, waiting for him. Sitting down gingerly, Larsa cleared his throat. "Apologies for my lateness, I was planning a reunion feast. We may begin now." The bearded faces swathed in hoods nodded. The first senator took the liberty to speak, gesturing with a withered hand in the air.

"A reunion feast? That sounds...intriguing."

The senator said slowly, dragging the word 'intriguing' such that it sounded sarcastic for a moment. He gave a dry cough, and shot a disgruntled look at another senator, who continued what the first was about to say.

"Yes, Emperor Larsa. It seems that you are old enough now...to be wed."

Larsa felt a horrible sinking feeling somewhere in the reaches of his stomach, but tried his best to ignore it. There was that mention again. That horrible, horrible mention of marriage. He couldn't just pick a random girl from noble Archadian blood and marry her in some grand, fancy ceremony. Despite it all, yes. Larsa Ferrinas Solidor believed in something called love.

Love. Yes, love. How cliched and boring and utterly stupid. But it did exist. He had seen it happening a great many times, when walking in the midst of his subjects, or travelling across Ivalice. Or even when he saw couples give each other an adoring peck on the cheek. When he was younger, even then before he had met Vaan, he felt a ping of disgust every time he saw these public displays of affection. Now, he felt a different kind of ping. Was it jealousy? Longing? He couldn't identify it. Such was the product of years of being a slave to quills, ink and parchment. His mortification must have shown clearly on his face, as a third senator spoke dryly, his voice cutting into Larsa's endless stream of thoughts.

"Yes, yes. You do not know the ways of marriage, young Emperor. Which is why we, the senate, encourage you to take this reunion feast of yours, and use the opportunity to invite some fine ladies of the court, and women from abroad. Marriage will greatly boost your power."

Mumbling something incoherently under his breath, Larsa gave a loud sigh and lowered his head, tacking his gaze to the polished wood on which he rested his elbows. "Fine. I will invite some others to the reunion feast. It will be up to you all, then."

"The senate will do its best." The hooded men said slyly as Larsa got up stiffly from the throne and exited.

"Entirely ruined. This was supposed to be a reunion feast, not some sort of...matchmaking party."

Larsa muttered under his breath as he returned to his main throne.

Sighing for the hundredth time that day, memories glided above his gilded crown. Memories of the time he was out hunting with Vaan, Ashe, Balthier, Fran, Basch...all of them. Royalty hadn't mattered then. And then there was one more. She had left the most impression in his mind. He had written her name first on the list of people he would invite. He definitely wanted her to come. Picking up a feathered quill lying on a table next to him, he picked it up and absentmindedly wrote an invisible name on the throne's armrest.

Penelo.

Perhaps the reunion feast would not be that spoiled after all. There was still some good in it.

And then Emperor Larsa Ferrinas Solidor was sated.