For Aorin107, who wanted to see some in-game Larsa/Penelo fic within Ondore's mansion. Possibly some more about what occurred on the trip to the Leviathan will appear soon... but I cannot promise anything concrete here. And yes, this will serve as the introduction to a new multi-chapter bit of something I've already finished a couple of pages of...

Comments, corrections and criticism are, as always, completely welcome and loved! After all, a little encouragement never fails to add a bit of inspiration...

Title: Seedling

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII

Characters/Pairings: Larsa, Penelo, One-sided Larsa/Penelo if you squint

Rating: PG

Summary: Every man of House Solidor must eventually find something worthy of his protection.

The girl's hand had been very warm in his own when they had walked through the streets of Bhujerba ealier.

That was the first thing Larsa had noticed, strangely enough, when he had rescued her. Looking back, it was rather a strange detail to have recalled, considering how much else there had been to catch his eyes or his senses at that particular place and time. This outing to the sky city had, after all, been the first time he had ever wandered so far from the palace walls of Archades, the first time he had ever evaded the eyes of his father's empire for so long, the first time he had ever pushed his luck so far in an attempt to learn so much more than he had ever discovered by himself before. It would have been more logical for him to have locked his mind onto the more salient details of his excursions: the oddity of the party that had joined him into the Lhusu mines, the strange menace of the 'Balthier' who had questioned him, the question of just where the diverted magicite was going to, why on earth Vaan had called the eldest of the party 'Basch'…

All of the above and more would have been enough to justify Larsa's rather unorthodox and hazardous trip to the mines in order to find more of what his lord brother might have been up to in Bhujerba. But instead, he had not only bought back evidence of some serious wrong-doing with nethicite-- he had also bought back a woman-- a girl, rather-- one who was clearly older than him by quite a few years. One who was old enough, perhaps, to make questions of how they had met in the sky city and why he had added her to his cortege a little... uncomfortable to answer.

Not even quite thirteen years old, he could practically hear Drace say with a laugh at the back of her refined throat, and already my Lord Larsa is out and about and attempting to rescue fair maidens from Judge Ghis' tender mercies? At her side, he could hear the rasp of Gabranth's harsh, husky voice as he enquired as to what sort of reward said fair maiden had offered Lord Larsa in turn for such exquisite gallantries. And oh, he could just imagine what his father or-- god help him-- brother would make of it. I always knew that you were precocious, he could hear his lord brother drawl, but I had no idea that you were also advanced in this manner as well…

At the very thought, Larsa could feel a blush start to warm his cheeks and fought it down with sheer force of will. No, no, for all of their (completely imaginary-- and god willing it would stay that way) teasing, that wasn't what was going on at all. He was simply rescuing Vaan's friend in order to repay the debt he owed to Vaan's party, keeping her safe till he could reunited her with them. His mind ought to be-- and in fact was-- far more focused on unraveling the mysteries that this trip had done less to quell than to further deepen.

But still, he could remember how warm her hand had been earlier on, gently bumping against his fingers as they had navigated the alleys and narrow corners of the sky-city they had met in. They had been warm and even now, if he flexed his fingers or pressed his right palm to his left in mimicry, he could recall the heat of it, the texture and the touch, the fragrance she had left on his being.

Of course, the girl's hand were not entwined within his own now, her fingers laced through his as they had felt the sun on their faces and heard the bird-song in their ears and witnessed the eyes of all others on their figures. Right now, it was twiddling nervously with its twin in her lap as she looked up at him with her large, wide,

(rather nicely shaped)

hazel eyes in a face paled by anxiety. She had looked livelier right outside the mouth of the mines when Larsa had first seen her, face flushed with exertion and anger as she had raged at Ghis for attempting to put her in another cage after she had just escaped from her previous captors. She had looked better, if still a bit wan, on their walk to the sanctuary the Marquis of Ondore had graciously offered them both, the same judge dogging at their heels. But she looked very white and very drawn right now and possibly it was only the bed beneath her that was keeping her steady. He would need to send for some maids to help her as soon as they finished speaking. With fresh clothes and a bath and probably some lunch as well-- who knew how poorly those Bangaa bounty hunters might have treated her. They did not strike Larsa as the congenial sort by any means.

She must have been very scared, he thought, if those Bangaa had been half as menacing to her as they had appeared in the mines. She must have been frightened and alone and hurt and afraid when they had snatched her right off the streets of Rabanastre to serve as bait. She must have wanted to tell them all that-- and as if by magic, she blinked and opened her mouth to speak. Her lips were chapped, Larsa noted absently. He would have to provide some cream for her to tend to them properly.

"I," she began, and swallowed, and it was hard not to notice how dry and husky her voice was, even through the light, Dalmascan accent her friend Vaan shared with her. "I guess I just-- well. I just wanted to thank you for helping me with everything earlier. It's been-- it's been kind of a tough few days and I don't even want to think of what would have happened if you hadn't been around to get me away from that creepy, bossy, jack-ass of a judge that almost--"

She broke off and he found himself smiling. He probably should have found umbrage with her just then and told her sternly that Judge Magister Ghis was a fine servant of the empire who had been on the verge of tossing her into Archadia's dungeons solely to protect his present liege. Instead, it was all he could do not to laugh as he saw her hand fly to her mouth like a startled bird, covering its pink curve completely.

That same hand had been very warm in his just half an hour before, her flesh balmy even despite the fine, starched gloves he had worn since the age of seven to protect him from the touch of lesser beings. Her hand had been warm and so must be the rest of her presently, as he watched blood rush to her face in a mortified blush that made her look almost--

He ought to take umbrage but--

"Do not worry," he told her instead, mouth quirking again as he caught the startled look-- she never seemed to run out of them-- on her face. "Do not worry because I am with you now and as a member of my house, I shall not abide any harm visiting your being."

He had never been a protector of anyone else before-- always, always had others cast him as the dainty and to-be-protected one, not quite hardy enough to survive without a phalanx of judges attending to his every whim. But if the mines had taught Larsa nothing else, it had taught him that strength was needed from him soon-- strength enough to stand on his own, to cast aside his cumbersome protectors, to unravel his own mysteries. If fate gave him the opportunity to be the guardian of this girl above all others…

"I will take care of you, no matter what may come. From here on in, you may call on me for anything."

And the surprised but grateful smile she gave to him afterwards was just as warm and gratifying as her hand entwined with his had been earlier this evening.