PLEASE HACK, SLASH AND ABUSE MY EFFORTS; FIRST TIME FANFIC WRITER. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WELCOMED ALWAYS.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY OR FINAL FANTASY RELATED MATERIAL. CUSTOM CONTENT MY OWN.
A period of calm befell Ivalice after the succession of the new Emperor of Arcadia, Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, and the succession of the new Queen of Dalmasca, Ashelia B'Nargin.
Rozarria remained silent in disarray as their throne sat in disorder. The Rozarrian King had passed away, and Al-Cid Margrace assumed the role, but found the reality of ruling such a country too intricate. Aside of this outstanding, Ivalice was at last at peace.
The Sky Pirates, Balthier and Fran, recruited Vaan and Penelo aboard the Strahl to journey to places anew and seek only the best treasures Ivalice had to offer. And as Larsa's 18th birthday approached, they were out hunting for a present.
In Archades, inside House Solidor, the young Emperor was oblivious to the fact that his 18th birthday was being planned under his very nose. Larsa was taller, but had changed very little over the years. His Aide, the Judge Ffigarro Rokszah, at his side in place of Judge Basch Gabranth who was away on business in Dalmasca, remained with him by his side. Larsa had now been the Emperor for nearly six years. Still sporting an outfit much similar to what he wore when he was twelve, but in delicate creams, rich crimsons and boldest blues with the addition of the Archadian Crest on the upper sleeving of his garments and also baring an open white overcoat, sleeveless and at a length just past his knees with the blue snaked crest on the back, Larsa appeared more grown up. His hair remained the same; his youthful appearance hardly changed with the exception of the first faint signs of stubble. Larsa was much more of a man than he knew. Though deep down he experienced a feeling, which plundered his thoughts for some time. The feeling of loneliness and the longing for freedom. But he knew it was quite impossible to act upon these, for his duties always came first and his personal life always to one side.
Judge Rokszah entered, wearing a Judge's attire. The full body armour in burnished silver and ivory, with a black cape attached to the shoulders. He had donned the armour of the late Judge Ghis, sporting the red coloured pants and wrists befitting the cream of his exposed shirt sleeves, the shoulder armour with its intricate feather detail fanning out, the small kneecaps attached to the royal red pants, matching the shin guards of his near black boots and gloves. He carried his hammerhead helmet in his right arm. He was a middle-aged gentleman; short, slicked silver hair and strained green eyes. He appeared wise in his complexion, wearing a silver grey moustache with notable stubble across his face. Deep wrinkles suggested he had seen much of Ivalice.
He presented His Excellency with much documentation to sign in his Study, as his subjects proceeded in finalising for tonight's ball in confidence. Larsa's Study was decorated with a mixture of mahogany and sandalwood panelling. Signs of greenery stood in the four corners of the room. Rows of books plagued the walls, allowing only the windows their space. The floor was terracotta stone. Standing on this expensive ground, there was a light coloured wood desk opposite the entering sandalwood door. Complete with a chair donning a crimson cushion and high green panelled back, Larsa was sat at the desk, busy with an array of documents scattered on its surface. It dismayed him when Judge Rokszah laid out further documents for signing to his already colossal pile. As Larsa sat with documents in hand, he pulled his quill from the inkwell of his desk. It was here that Judge Rokszah had to ask the question.
"Is Your Excellency troubled?" Rokszah queried, rubbing his stubbly chin with his left thumb and forefinger, "Our young Emperor is not normally so concealed."
Larsa looked up at the Judge, and sighed. He put down his quill, and left the seat of his desk. He began to wander the room in discontentment.
"I'm missing something," Larsa admitted, staring out of the nearby window. His voice had deepened over the years, yet it was clear that there was still a boyish element to his tone, "Something important in my life. It troubles me to know that I wish for something I know I cannot have."
"Your Excellency knew that Archadia came with much responsibility," Rokszah reasoned, setting his helmet down on Larsa's desk. Larsa sat down at his untidy desk once more, and rested his head in his left hand, "To question this now would mean that Archadia is without the love of her Emperor."
"To question this now would mean that I assumed the role for the wrong reasons," Larsa worried. The Judge let out an anxious grunt, "I would not abandon my duty, nor would I give up on Archadia. In spite of this, I feel that there are things which I have not yet accomplished outside the role of Emperor."
"Sire," The Judge sighed, advancing towards the Emperor in his seat, "The role of Emperor befits you perfectly. There was no other who could assume it as you have done. Should you consider it a burden now, then the Senators would question your ability to govern our country, as they did so with your late brother."
"I need no reminders," Larsa replied, standing up from his seated position. He paced himself towards another window, peering out to the bustling streets of Archades, observing the free roam of the Archadian civilians, "You know as well as I do what my brother set out to accomplish. My interests lie only in what is best for Archades and her people. Some days I feel I need room to breathe. Other days I feel I can take on the whole world, and then the rest of the time," Larsa sighed and turned to face Rokszah with a sombre expression, "I yearn for freedom from it all."
"It is only human to have doubts, Sire," He assured the young Emperor, "Pray, retire to your chamber. Your presence will be required this evening with the Senate."
Later that evening, the surprise ball for Larsa's birthday was underway in the Banqueting Hall and everyone was enjoying themselves. The Hall was decorated with vast banqueting cream-clothed tables with beautiful flower arrangements and green high-back chairs. Streamers decorated the oak-coloured panelled walls. The warm stone floor polished to a high definition sheen. Being the guest of honour, Larsa lavished in the attention, and just to keep Penelo sweet, he tossed her some flowers from one of the tables. She giggled and commented how typical he was. Penelo looked even more lovely with every day. Her dazzling hazel eyes sparkled, her blonde hair had grown longer, and she had kept it plaited even to this day. Still sporting her striking red dancer's pants with their delicate gold detail and dark grey vest top with its white collar and matching wrist wear on her right hand, she looked every inch a lady. With her gold coloured shoes to match a dainty pendant she wore, Penelo enjoyed the company of her old comrades.
With all of the guests present, Larsa asked for everyone's attention by sounding his glass with a silver spoon, tapping its body gently to attract the attention of his guests. Everyone settled in silence, and he began to make a speech.
"I would like to say thank you to everyone for preparing this superb event for me," He said, smiling at his Judges and loyal subjects. He also glanced over at Penelo. He had a feeling she had a part to play, "Thank you to everyone for attending tonight, especially to my most treasured friends, whose efforts in making Ivalice a peaceful place have not been forgotten. I therefore raise a toast."
Everyone in the hall raised their glasses in unison, as Larsa continued.
"A toast, to the heroes of Ivalice," Larsa celebrated, and the whole room toasted to Larsa's friends – Vaan, Penelo, Balthier and Fran, "Furthermore I present their courageous leader with a most valuable gift. Vaan Ratsbane, I give you the Sword of Nabradia. For your courage and outstanding labour for maintaining peace throughout Ivalice."
Larsa was handed a weapon from Judge Rokszah, and he presented Vaan with a Nabradian Sword encrusted with fine jewels. This delighted him, and didn't hesitate to show Penelo. Vaan changed very little over the years. His dirty blonde hair was very much the same, as was his choice of attire. He still wore that mischievous grin on occasion, but even he showed signs of manhood. Light blonde stubble on his chin, and well-developed muscles on his arms and torso. Vaan had grown into a strong-looking man. Larsa was then given many birthday presents by members of the Senate, who had also attended the celebration, Judges and many of the guests. One in particular proved curious to him. He opened a small mahogany-coloured box. Inside, amass its royal red cushioning, sat a platinum ring set with a large and fine princess cut diamond. Larsa's eyes widened in disbelief. He became inadequately perturbed.
"An engagement ring?" He queried, looking at the jewel in its box. It was a gift from one of the Senators, Yumeron. After the disbandment of the old Senate, Larsa employed new members to replace them, ensuring that they were trustworthy and loyal to his cause. Larsa turned to him, "Pray, tell me why I need this?"
"Your Excellency will need a good quality ring to present to his future bride," Yumeron said. Larsa pulled a perplexed face, and the whole room laughed. Rokszah placed a friendly hand to the Emperor's shoulder in jest, as did the Senator Yumeron. Larsa sighed in relief, and revealed a smirk across his reassured face. Attaching the box to his belt and concealing it under his shirt, the music then began in the background, and people started to choose their dance partners. Larsa approached Penelo, leaving some of his presents unopened and paired with her. Larsa steadied a hand on the girl's hip and took her right hand with his left. As they danced in the style of ballroom, they talked.
"I'm glad you came," He told her, "I have been receiving your letters, but I can never find the time to write back. Such other duties, I'm afraid I must put first."
"It's OK," Penelo said, smiling at him as they danced in time to the music, "I know how hard it must be to govern a whole continent. I have some news for you though. I wanted to tell you in person."
"Oh?" Larsa said with curiosity in his expression, "And what would that be?"
"Well," Penelo explained, "It's about me and Vaan. We've become an item."
"Penelo, that's wonderful!" Larsa stated joyously, "I guess this means I will have to have the dressmaker here to fit me a suit for your wedding?"
"Oh, you're awful!" Penelo laughed, "But I wanted to tell you that, you're a great friend. I hope we can still be friends. I kinda think of you as the little brother I never had."
"Thank you," Larsa chuckled, "I will not hide the truth from you when I say that I did think of you on a different level. However, it was obvious to me that you were closer to Vaan, since we really did not know each other that well, and I was only twelve years old."
"Well, you were cute at that age!" Penelo joked. Larsa gasped humorously, and he pinched her arm good-naturedly. He looked around him, observing the actions of the other guests. He decided to interact, for the sake of his majestic reputation.
"I must take my leave to speak with the other guests," Larsa said, ending their dance and bowing respectfully, "Will you excuse me, big sister?"
Penelo nodded, and Larsa left her to speak with some of the nobles. The guests danced throughout the night, and as Larsa networked with his guests, he couldn't help but notice Balthier having some luck with a group of regal ladies. Balthier remained the same. The tightest black leather pants that any Hume could get his hands on, with his golden waistcoat and pirate style shirt. Larsa couldn't help but feel covetous, and so he decided to retire to his private chamber for the rest of the evening.
On his arrival to his private chamber within House Solidor, Larsa sat down on his bed to reflect on the night. His chamber was roomy, with a super king-size four-poster bed draped in green satin throws. The cushions wearing the crest of the house. The intricate detail highlighted in a brass colour. Portraits of his family hung on the royal blue voile draped beech-coloured panelled walls. The floor was terracotta stone. Its large windows decorated with voiles and heavy wine and emerald curtains. Just as the Emperor was about to settle for the night, he heard some commotion outside of his door. One of his other appointed Judges, Judge Heisler, hammered the door, and then proceeded to burst in with urgent news. Heisler was a young looking man in his twenties, sporting the Judge Magister armour of the late Judge Bergan. Also baring a black cape with blood-red pattern, he carried his crown-shaped helmet in his left hand. Heavily armoured all over, the only sign of a weak spot was the inner leg area to his groin, where his navy coloured pants were exposed. Wine coloured fasteners held his armour together at the wrists, shoulders, legs and with the addition of a wine and armour belt at the waist. His arms and legs heavily plated, and his feet protected with weighty-looking boots. Every inch of him was protected. Even his collar was fashioned to protect his vital wind pipes. Upon his entry, the horror in his face spoke volumes as Larsa observed as he stood to greet him.
"Sire! Your pardon if I may," Heisler shrieked, saluting to His Excellency, "We have received word from Rozarria! The life of Al-Cid Margrace has been taken! The Margrace family also followed suit!"
Understandably, Larsa was shocked by the news, as he and Al-Cid were close. He gasped. His eyes widened in alarm. He became speechless. Larsa could not contemplate on who would want to take the life of the Rozarrian Prince or his family, or upset the balance of peace for that matter. He was one of the only remaining Margrace members left, after the death of the late Halhonas some four years ago. Whatever the case, it had to be investigated. Larsa straightened his face, casting his personal feelings aside for a moment to address his Judge Magister, who awaited his instruction.
"Judge Heisler, I give you authority to take charge of this matter and investigate immediately," Larsa instructed, "Send directive to Judge B'Egnan to send word to Dalmasca at once!"
Heisler complied, saluting the Emperor and left the chamber in a hurry. Larsa was still beside himself with distress. Although he had given instructions to his trusted Judge Magisters, he was sure he could do more. He decided to consult his trusted allies, so he exited his private chambers to find Vaan. Running through the oak and cream panelled corridors in a fluster, he made his exit from House Solidor from a passage onto the Highgarden Terrace in the city of Archades. He collared Vaan before he had chance to leave.
"Vaan, thank the Gods you're still here!" Larsa exclaimed. Vaan advanced towards the worried Emperor. It was clear to him that all was not well.
"What is it?" Vaan enquired, concerned, "Something wrong?"
"I've received word that Al-Cid Margrace has had his life taken," Larsa informed him, sending Vaan's jaw towards the floor like a kick in the teeth, "The Margrace family followed. They are no more. I beg you, grant me one favour and accompany Judge B'Egnan to Dalmasca from House Solidor. See that the Queen is safe, and pass on word."
Vaan agreed and hurried to accompany B'Egnan. He left Larsa in his thoughts. The Emperor's head was plagued with many nightmares and visions. Joining his hands in an unnerved fashion, Larsa began to make his way back to his estate.
Towards midnight, when the ball had ended in House Solidor and everyone had retired, Larsa was still awake in his private chamber with concern.
Will I be next? He wondered, Will I be assigned an assassin to follow suit in close friend's footsteps? Who would want to disrupt the peace that has been welcomed so by Ivalice?
He became lost in his thoughts for a moment longer. He then decided to investigate as much as he could for himself. But first thing was first. He would have to get past the Imperial Soldiers unseen. The solution was simple – disguise! He got his hands on some wayfarer clothes from his commode, and dressed as the known commoner of Archades. Wearing black pants, a white Kilimweave Shirt with a forest green sleeveless vest, and neat black boots, he grabbed a brown leather sack from his bedside. Pulling out a Topkapi Hat from the sack, he became Lamont.
Leaving his chambers, fixing his hair sticking out from his hat along the way, and exiting House Solidor from the twists and turns of the corridors via secret exits, he successfully made it out of the royal grounds unnoticed. His exploration into the death of a dear friend had just begun.
Larsa headed into the Imperial City at the Grand Arcade, disguised as Lamont, looking for something to give him some sort of clue as to what was afoot. He entered Tsenoble, and spotted a local drunk and decided to brave him. The drunk was slumped by the Cab Attendant, drabbling on about nothing, and swigging on a bottle half full of an odd-coloured liquid. Larsa approached the man with a cautious nature.
"Excuse me, Sir?" Larsa began. The drunk gave him an evil glare.
"Ar?" He shouted, staggering Larsa and provoking him to back away, "Ya mek me sick, yow do! Yow think yer can cum up ta me an ask me ennythink ya want ta! Bluddy nobles, yow oughta do us all a faevour an sod off back ta bluddy Rozarria!"
The drunk babbled on. Larsa decide to leave him be. He was not going to progress very far with him. He nodded to the Cab Attendant, and climbed inside the Air Cab, heading on into Nilbasse. Exiting the Cab, he came across an old woman. A frail looking thing. Tall and willowy with fine grey hair, wearing a violet coloured shawl and bluish cloak. Larsa decided to approach her.
"Pardon me," Larsa spoke. The old woman turned to face him with a smile, "I wondered if you had heard of events developing in Rozarria recently?"
"Ooh, you haven't heard then?" She responded, flabbergasted, "There had been mysterious men prowling around Archades and Rozarria for some time now, you know. Shady looking so and so's, they are. There be mutterings in Old Archades about them."
Could this have something to do with Al-Cid? Larsa thinks, with a hand to his chin, stroking it in his contemplation. But his attentions were soon redirected as he heard a call for help coming from Old Archades in the distance. He decided to follow the sound of the call to investigate.
Larsa spotted two young boys in the damp and cold Alley of Muted Sighs of Old Archades, running away in fright calling for help. One blonde haired boy with shaggy hair, donning a native style headband and armbands. Wearing a long, sleeveless scarlet and zest-coloured overcoat fastened with three gold chains on the upper, exposing his vest underneath. Its length down to his ankles. Leather pants in the colour of burnt umber, and matching elbow-length gloves and knee-high boots in brown and white. He ran with one smaller brown haired boy. The littler one of the two, he wore a baby blue scarf around his throat. His hair neat though somewhat ruffled. He sported an elbow-length sleeved coat made of Wyvern skin, in an array of blacks and reds in colour. It covered the lower part of his stumpy child legs. His navy and garnet coloured boots covering his lower legs, he tried to keep up with his bigger brother. Larsa ran after them, and caught them up before they could leave the area. They called out in fright, believing that Larsa was their enemy.
"Do not be alarmed," Larsa assured them, raising his hands in a conceded manner, "I wish to help you. What is the matter?"
"Our sister!" The eldest boy exclaimed, pointing to back where they had come from, "A Zu's got her! We tried to help her, but that thing took a dive on us!"
"She's in troububble!" The littlest boy wailed, flailing his arms in the air, "Please, will you help her, Mister?"
"Lead me to her," Larsa demanded, "I will help you to free her!"
The boys nod thankfully, and they run back in the direction that they came from. Larsa following closely behind. Journeying through the sleeping slums of Old Archades, they reach the outskirts of the Imperial City. Sure enough, Larsa sees the large black bird Zu, holding a young woman by its claws, trying its hardest to grab her head with its large and sharp beak. Dark brown hair in a plaited pigtail resting on her left shoulder, a fringe sweeping left of her forehead also with a sun-kissed blonde streak, wearing a white commoner blouse tied with wine coloured leather on its sleeves, and a royal blue, gold embroidered corset. Her wayfarer pants were plum with essence of brown on the knee areas and buckle straps. Her white boots with their intricate colour detail looked new. She appeared to be noble looking, but it didn't appear that she was totally helpless. She made attempts to get herself free with a staff.
I'm not armed, Larsa thought, but I cannot let this girl be subjected to the claws of this fiend!
Larsa readied for combat bare-handed. The boys, concerned for their sister, decided to give him a hand. The Zu spotted the group, and with its prey in its claws it swooped down for an attack. Larsa collared its free foot, and sunk his teeth deep into its flesh. Screeching out in discomfort, the two boys latched on to its other foot, and tried to help their sister free. Without warning, the Zu left the ground with the three holding on for dear life. Larsa bit into the fiend's clawed foot once more, prompting it to screech out further. Eventually the Zu shook the three boys off, falling to the cold and damp ground on their backs. Dropping its prey as it decided to flee, she landed on Larsa's front with a thud. His hat flying off. Her staff bouncing on the ground until it became still. The boys shot up and ran to her. Larsa lifted his head to address the girl. She raised hers to look at him.
"Are you hurt?" He asked her. She shook her head.
"I'm OK," She replied. She appeared to have a somewhat Rabanastran accent entwined with another native tone, though it was clear that she was not from Rabanastre, "But I'd like to know where that Zu came from. Old Archades doesn't see many of them."
"She's right," The youngest boy commented, "There are some weird things happenin' around here. Monsters appearin' outta nowhere, people looking shifty-like….super-spicious if you ask me!"
Helping himself from the ground, Larsa aided the girl onto her feet at the same time. Taking her hands, he pulled her to stand. She stumbled briefly, and Larsa found himself catching her by her waist. For a moment, they gazed at each other as her hands rested against his arms. They both smiled and recollected themselves after releasing one another. But looking at the stranger's face prompted the girl to realise exactly who she was addressing.
"Wait a second," She gasped, "That face! You're the-!"
"No, please!" Larsa panicked, pleading with the girl, "Do not say aloud! I beg you, my identity must remain anonymous outside of House Solidor!"
"Why's that?" She asked curiously, arousing her brothers' suspicions also.
"I'm supposed to be inside House Solidor," Larsa whispered to them, "But I received news of the death of a friend in Rozarria; Al-Cid Margrace. I could not sit and let my thoughts dwell, so I disguised myself to investigate the matter."
"I see," She nodded with a bold smile, "Don't worry. I won't say a word."
"I thank you," Larsa breathed, sighing with reprieve with a steady hand to his chest, "Can I ask for your names?"
"I'm Domeno!" The littlest boy responded cheerfully in a bound.
"Name's Bronin." The blonde boy replied, nodding respectfully with his arms folded. The girl pulled a wary face. She appeared slightly uncomfortable.
"And you? Please, do not be shy," Larsa assured the boys' sister, "I'm not someone likely to break my word when I say you will not be in trouble."
"I'm not the shy type, just cautious. My name's Ellice," She replied brazenly, "Ellice Zemnaru."
"Ellice," He whispered, taking her hand to shake it, "Such a lovely name for an unusual flower. You know of who I am, but I prefer to be known as Larsa."
His words drew a brief smile from her still face. Shaking her hand, Larsa's head turned upon hearing the calls of Imperials. It was time to leave.
"I must leave you," He urged, "I must return to House Solidor before dawn."
"Tink we'll ever see you again?" Little Domeno enquired bountifully. Larsa smiled.
"I hope so," He replied. Ellice advanced the Emperor, twiddling a signet ring from the middle finger of her wine gloved right hand, where she bared a gold and a silver ring. Her armguard on the right arm looking somewhat crushed and old. She removed the gold ring from her person.
"Thanks for helping me," She said, placing the ring in the palm of his left hand, "A token of my gratitude. I hope we'll see you again someday."
Larsa nodded with a smile, as Ellice took her brothers' hands and began to lead them away. Larsa looked around for Imperials, and he cautiously made his way back to House Solidor.
After getting past the Imperials again using his secret routes, he proceeded to rest in his chamber at House Solidor. Larsa removed his wayfarer clothing, and instantaneously placed them back inside the commode. After changing into his navy coloured nightclothes, he settled on his bed. He examined the signet ring given to him, and became lost in his thoughts once more.
That girl. I wonder if I will ever see her again.