A/n: Why are there no Valant piece on here? Where's the Valant Gramarye love? Surely I'm not his only fan... Yeah, it's pretty obvious where this is going- I come bearing a Valant centric. Kinda. It's set a couple of days before case three of Apollo Justice, though it includes snippets of the magician's troubled past, as well as a cameo from Lamirior. Why not torture the poor guy a little more?

Troupe Gramarye so needs more back story. XD

Disclaimer: The Ace Attorney series is not mine. Nope, I don't own a single right.

Oh, and there's some implied/one sided Valant/Thalassa, 'cause not only does Valant need more love, his one sided...love also needs more... love. Ha!

Chapter One: Familiar Stranger

xxxx

Weaving his way through the cluttered hallways of the stadium, Valant Gramarye couldn't keep a bounce from his steps. Today was bound to be a good day. He would be practicing one of his greatest illusions, and any day that magic was involved was a good day.

And lately, the number of good days were nearly non-existent.

Being a magician wasn't the most glamorous profession, despite it's glitzy shine, and the call for magical entertainment was becoming a rarity. Though he had once been a part of one of the most world-renowned troupes, that was a thing of the past. He was reminded of the bitter truth every time he awoke to a tiny apartment and a blank answering machine.

To be in these hallways, surrounded by workers preparing for the big Gavinners concert was like a calming balm to his soul. Tricks of the mind were his specialty, his passion, and to be hired on because of his skill brought a much needed reprieve from his usual bland days.

Continuing through the hallways, side-stepping crates full of wires and boxes of supplies, Valant glanced down at the map in his hands. He was close to the center stage, his destination for the day. He hadn't been on an actual stage in years, and even today he wouldn't be the star of the show. He didn't mind, really. His client would be the main attraction, but it would be because of his talent and that was enough for him.

Folding up the layout of the stadium, Valant turned down a small corridor, thoughts straying to his mystery client. He had never met them, or even heard their voice. Klavier Gavin had been the one to hire him, and the rock star had only told him the name and occupation of his charge. Supposedly she was a singer by the name of Lamirior, famous in her native land; some little place called Borginia, or something similar. That was the basic extent of his knowledge, and he couldn't help but wonder why someone who was apparently so famous would have so little information available.

Not that it really mattered. Famous or not, she would be learning a great trick today. Valant only hoped this Lamirior was up to the task. His illusion would not be an easy one.

Smirk stretching across his face, Valant reached the end of the long hallway, stepping out of the cluttered space and onto a grand stage. It was large. Not quite as big as some of the stages he had stood on in the past, but it was impressive. Hard concrete spanned out to the other side of the wall, an elevated platform in the middle of the area. Beams of lights hung behind him, illuminating a bandstand. Rows and rows of chairs were bolted out in front, capable of sitting hundreds of people. The sight, even devoid of excited fans, brought back scores of memories.

Booted feet thumping against the cold floor, he walked out onto the structure, gaze fixed on the empty stadium. How many times had he walked out onto a stage similar to this one, bright lights shining down on him and people cheering in the audience? He could still feel the excited tingle in his fingertips, the accelerated beat of his heart. Every time he had walked onto a stage, his goal had been the same: to wow and dismay. And every time he had walked off of a stage, he had felt as though he had accomplished his task.

Stopping near the foot of the stage, Valant lowered his staff, his trusty stage prop that had been with him since the beginning. Even though seven years had passed since Troupe Gramarye's height of fame, he still half-expected his partners to come out from the shadows and join him. Countless months had gone by, and a part of him was still looking for Zak and Thalassa.

Time had continued it's journey, yet he still couldn't silence that jolt in his chest or that spark of electricity.

"Excuse me?"

Jolted out of his musings, Valant turned toward the gentle voice, yellow cape billowing behind him as he moved. So focused on the stage, he had failed to see the figure leaning against the bandstand. Now he was so startled by the voice, he failed to notice his staff fall to floor.

That voice. It was so eerily familiar. Valant knew that he was gaping, but he couldn't gain control of his motor skills to remedy the rude gesture. In all of his forty-four years of life, he had never once heard a voice that was so kind and soft except for once. And it was impossible for him to be hearing that voice again.

"Tha- Thalassa?"

The woman standing near the back of the stage stepped forward, though her steps were hesitant. "I'm sorry, who?"

Still unable to take command of his reflexes, Valant stared, wide-eyed, at the figure before him. Her robes of blue silk nearly hung to the ground, delicate designs embroidered into the fabric. A thin veil of matching lace covered the lower portion of her face, but the material did little to hide the subtle beauty behind it, or the familiarity. As he remained motionless, a delicate hand came to rest near her chest, fingers toying with a turquoise brooch attached to her white dress. Long brown hair framed her curved cheekbones as pale blue eyes scrutinized him.

"Sir?"

Valant felt his breath leave him and his heart kick into over-drive as his mind screamed at him to stay something. This woman couldn't possibly be Thalassa. If wishing someone into existence was feasible, then seven years would not have gone by without her. If thinking of someone would make them appear, then Zak should come strutting out onto the stage and claim his place at her side. It was simply impossible for this woman to be Thalassa, no mater how much she looked like her.

Trying to ignore the heaviness of his own tongue, Valant regained use of his body, stuttering out, "I-I'm sorry, Madame." Realizing his hands were empty, he fumbled for his fallen staff, quickly retrieving it and walking towards the baffled woman, common sense telling him that she must be his client and not his long-lost partner. "You must be Miss Lamirior," he greeted, his usually strong voice wavering just a bit.

With a slight bow, cape outstretched with his staff, he offered her his free hand, adding, "I am Valant Gramarye, your guide into the world of tricks and illusions." Shaking of the potent feeling of deja-vu, he offered her a smile, voice once again it's natural active.

Though her intent gaze was still focused on him, Lamirior returned his smile, resignation dawning on her features and lighting up her face. Fingers sweeping over his hand, she grasped it in greeting.

"Oh, Mr. Gramarye. I was beginning to wonder if I had wound up on the wrong stage." Her words were not condescending but friendly, and Valant nearly found himself blushing, something he hadn't done in a good fifteen years.

Or since he had met Thalassa, a tiny voice murmured. He tried to tune it out, reminding himself that he was here for business and that he had a job to do.

"Forgive me," he interjected, "I thought you were... I was simply mistaken. And please, none of that 'Mr. Gramarye' non-sense. It makes me feel older than I already am."

Lamirior continued to smile, nodding her head in understanding. "All right then, Valant. But only if you drop the 'miss'. I can't even remember the last time someone referred to me as that."

"Someone as lovely as yourself?" The words left his mouth before he could even think them over. The familiarity and gentleness of the woman tugged at him, and the result made Valant want to pull his top-hat over his face. To his relief, however, Lamirior didn't seem to notice the crimson streaking up his neck.

"Tricks and illusions, indeed," she quipped, brushing away his comment as her fingers once again found her brooch. Glancing away from him, she muttered, "Though there is quite a bit that I can't remember." For a brief moment, a shadow passed over her face and the tranquility she emitted faltered, a sad air washing over her presence.

Though as quickly as it appeared, it fled, and she left Valant with little time ponder the sudden change in her demeanor. Offering him another kind smile, she looked directly at him, softly adding, "I thank you for the compliment, but I must be frank with you, Mis- Valant. My position in my native country is fragile, and I have an image that I must maintain. Mr. Gavin tells me that you are a great magician and I know that to perform this concert, I will need your assistance. But I must be able to trust you, do you understand?"

As her gentle, yet strangely unnerving, eyes continued to rest on his face, Valant felt his heart steadily pick up rhythm. His throat felt as though it was full of cotton and his tongue felt like it was velcroed to the roof of his mouth. It wasn't because she was a lovely women, though beautiful she was; he had encountered many women in the seven years since his troupe disbanded. It was the familiarity of her. It was the way he was reacting to her, a woman he had just met but felt as though he had known forever. It was the emotions she evoked, emotions that only one other woman had made him feel.

And it was simply impossible for this woman to be her.

Tampering down every jumbled and confused thought in his mind, Valant focused on the question Lamirior had asked of him and reminded himself that he was here to work. That he was simply mistaken and that the women standing before him was his client, nothing more and nothing less. Knowing that Lamirior was waiting for his response, Valant forced himself to nod mutely. When that didn't seem to suffice, he manged, "I'm a magician. Keeping secrets is my job."

Lamirior continued to stare, weighing his words. She didn't seem fazed by the slight shake of his hand or the equally hard stare he was giving her. Instead she appeared relieved, a small grin turning up her lips as she admitted, "Good, because I'll need you to truly be my guide into the worlds of tricks and illusions. You see... I'm blind."

xxxx

Shuffling down the dimly lit side-walks of his familiar neighborhood, Valant felt as though his feet were tied to sandbags and his shoulders weighted with heavy stones. The positive, jovial mood he had left home with was as extinct as his days in Troupe Gramarye. He longed to recapture that bright hope he had felt hours before, but it simply eluded him, tauntingly outside his grasp.

Just like everything else in his life.

Just like her.

Today should have been a happy one. It should have been a day full of magic and joy. In a way, it had been. Lamirior, despite her blindness, had been an excellent pupil and had caught on to the routine swiftly. She had been a pleasure to work with, her gentle voice never once complaining about the difficulties the trick required. In fact she had been rather excited, despite having to crawl though a cramped air-duct while singing effortlessly all the while.

As skilled and willing as she was, however, the illusion required more practice, so they were to meet tomorrow at the same location and time. The prospect of continuing his work should have filled Valant with the same peace he had felt earlier that day. The prospect of bringing in some money that would actually amount to something while performing his trade should lighten his steps, not cause them to falter.

But it didn't. Because though Lamirior was a joy to work with, she brought back too many memories. She evoked thoughts and feelings that he hadn't felt in years- things that he didn't want to feel or think. He had spent these last seven years trying to forget the past and move on. He wanted to forge anew, not live in the shadows of something that was to never be again. Today was supposed to finally be the start of something grand.

Now he could only think of the past.

And the past was not a pleasant thing to think on. Admittedly, it did have it's bright patches, and Troupe Gramarye was a very big part of his happiness. Yet at the same time, the one place that he had been a part of something good was also the source of his downfall. When the Troupe had been at the heights of it's fame had been some of the most amazing days of his life. They're had constantly been a show to perform and a crowd to wow. And amaze them he had.

He hadn't been alone; Zak and Thalassa had been right beside him. Or, in actually, he had been beside them. Zak had always been the brightest star in their little group, and Valant had always trailed along behind him. It hadn't bothered him too much, Zak had always been a friend. They're had always been a bit of rivalry between them, but it wasn't bitter. Not in the beginning. It was just unspoken. Thalassa had been the quieting factor, she had been the glue that kept them all together and in line.

The Troupe had been his family. Magnifi Gramarye was a genius in the field of magic and he and Zak had been the pupils. Thalassa had grown up in the world of illusions, she was just as much a teacher as her father. His days had been full of activity and enjoyment, and he had learned so very much in those seven years.

To know that those years were behind him, never to be captured again, left an ache in his chest. To know that she was no longer here...

To know that it could possibly be by his own hand...

He treasured his days in the Troupe, but sometimes he wished they had never happened. During the height of their career, when they'd had multiple performances every day and happy guests after each curtain close, they had lost Thalassa in a rehearsal shoot. It had been such a routine trick- one they had performed countless times. Yet, somehow, something had gone terribly wrong and left a irreparable hold in Troupe Gramarye. With Thalassa gone, the seam that had held them all together unraveled, and the Troupe never recovered from the blow.

With the passing of Thalassa, Zak changed. He was no longer the same jovial, loud, slightly egotistical Zak he had once been. With his wife no longer around, he seemed to care about little. Valant knew that he had been no better than Zak. Thalassa had always been the brightest star in his eyes, and with her gone, the Troupe just wasn't the same. Magnifi had always been a demanding leader, but without his daughter, he had gone on a tyrannical rampage, even using the circumstances of Thalassa's death over them and forcing them to continue in the field.

Her death... Thalassa's death had been horrible. And he still didn't know exactly what had happened. He and Zak had been practicing the routine as usual, blank shells in their guns as they fired the bouncing shots, Thalassa in the middle of the stage as always. One moment she had been standing there, the next she had crumpled on the concrete. Seconds later Magnifi had been there, shouting that they get out and call an ambulance. It had all happened so fast, yet it was something Valant would never forget.

Not that Magnifi had ever given him an opportunity. And though they had continued performing, as instructed, their act had never been the same, and slowly the days of Troupe Gramarye had trickled away like a light bulb slowly losing it's glow.

So many things happened after Thalassa's accident- a falling out between Zak and Valant, Magnifi's blackmail and eventual death, Zak's disappearance, the missing rights to Magnifi's magic, which Zak took along with him- it all resulted in a bitter fall for Troupe Gramarye. And it all began the day Thalassa died.

His days in Troupe Gramarye held his happiest memories, but they also housed his most terrible. Memories that he didn't want to relive anymore. Memories that he tried his best to escape, but followed him relentlessy nonetheless. Memories that he thought he would be able to escape with his newest job, but were now just as clear as the days he lived them.

Digging his keys out of his pocket, Valant turned the lock on his door, suddenly very glad to be in his tiny home and away from the darkness of night. Kicking his door shut, he all but threw himself on his couch, closing his dark eyes and trying to silence his mind. He didn't have time to dwell on the past; his future was still stretched out before him. He still had a job to do. Magic was still his livelihood, and he still had tricks left to perform.

He didn't have time to live in the shadows of his past.

No matter how bright those shadows were.

xxxx

A/n: I could have gone on with the back story, but... I don't wanna go crazy. Troupe Gramarye has so much potential to be a soap opera. Think about it! It's such a cheesy drama. But I love them just the same. Writing angsty Valant was fun, even though I feel sorry for the poor guy. Lamirior was hard to pin down, and I probably failed, but I enjoyed it anyway. Heh!

About Lamirior telling Valant she's blind... I can't imagine him not knowing. I mean, he had her crawl though an air duct. She'd need a little help. I even played case 4-3 over again to see if it's ever implied he knows, and they just leave it alone. So... I took some liberties. Thanks to laughafterpain for sharing her thoughts with me on the subject.

I'm really tempted to make this a two-shot... And I probably will. Feel free to let me know how you felt about this here, and if you enjoyed it, stay tuned for another chapter. I do loving hearing from readers.

- L2G