...I'm not sure where this chapter came from. It's a bit more serious then the previous two, but I hope you (the reader) still find it as enjoyable. I altered the story summary to hopefully describe the story better. Does it?
And yes, I do have a camo for Ashe in this one, Riaeth. See, told you I would have her in later chapters. ;) Thanks goes to my sister for beta-ing. Best ever!

Ultimate Technick
Fallen Stars

Why?

The question, so deceptively simple, had been plaguing him. During the day he was able to push it away, distracted by the duties of an Emperor and the work he and Lady Ashe had to perform. And if that wouldn't do, there was always Bashe to talk to. And -- he had to smile briefly -- there was also Vaan and Penelo.

Why?

But it always came back, relentless in its search for an answer, haunting in its need for a reason.

Why?

Why had Vayne acted the way he did? Why did I have to pull a sword on my own brother? Why?

He let out a choked sob as tears escaped his eyes to run down his face. He made no move to wipe them away. He was tired of having to fight them the whole day, tired of having to wrap the mantle of emperor around himself to keep them at bay. Besides, it was the middle of the night; no one was around. Here in his silent room, he was alone.

From now on, he would always be alone.

He buried his head in his arms, letting the tears fall as the truth of the words hit him full on.

WHY!

He had always felt his brother would do what was right to uphold what was honorable, even if it was just the honor of Archadies. He had trusted Vayne! Despite the rumors of Vayne's involvement with their older brothers' fates, Lasra had trusted in him.

To have that trust shattered had been a devastating blow to Larsa, and he wasn't sure he would ever recover.

Deep in the coils of sorrow, he didn't hear the sound coming from the open balcony at first. Finally he lifted his head, blinking to clear his vision. He twisted in his chair to peer out the open balcony doors. The silk curtains fluttered in the night breeze, and beyond them he could see a figure climbing over the stone railing.

Before he could become alarmed, the figure slipped over the rail and landed in a patch of moonlight with hardly a sound. The ash blonde hair, even paler under the moon, was a dead giveaway. He knew only two people with hair like that, and somehow he doubted that she would be climbing about where she had no business in the middle of the night.

"...blast..." Vaan's quiet voice carried through the cold air, crystal clear. "Wrong balcony. Again."

"Vaan?" Larsa called, his voice cracking with emotion. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What are you doing?"

As far as Larsa could determine, Vaan's erratic activities were driven by motives incomprehensible to just about everyone but the street rat himself. He'd often tried to puzzle out what the older boy was up to only to give up and learn by watching events play out to an often uproarous conclusion. Tonight, he wasn't even up to trying.

"Larsa?" Surprised, Vaan brushed aside one of the curtains. "You're awake?"

"Yes," Larsa answered him, swiping at his cheeks as the Rabanastren let himself in.

"What are you doing still up?" Vaan made himself at home, leaning on one corner of the desk to study his friend.

Larsa raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't sure Vaan would see it in the dark, and forced himself to speak carelessly. "I could ask the same of you."

"Yeah, point." Vaan rubbed the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. "But then, that's me. People aren't too surprised when I do something like this. But what about you, Larsa?" Vaan paused, looking at Larsa with sharp eyes. "Anything bothering you that you want to talk about?"

Larsa flinched. Vaan was smarter than he looked. Sometimes. "Nothing I can't deal with. Really, Vaan, what are you doing?"

"Oh... nothing... just, uh, well, Basch confiscated something from me earlier today."

"And you were trying to get it from him?" Larsa was momentarily at a loss for words. "Vaan, the man sleeps with a battle-axe beside him."

Vaan shrugged. "And I sleep with my sword on."

"And he can throw the battle-axe too." Larsa pointed out. "I don't think I need to remind you of a that night when a certain monster wandered into camp."

Vaan shifted his feet and muttered under his breath. "All right, all right. Enough about my sand-brained plans. What about you?"

Larsa blinked. "What about me?"

"Come on, I told you my reason, now tell me yours."

"There is nothing to say," Larsa protested, turning away from the older boy in a dismissive gesture. "Thank you for the inquiry."

Vaan sighed. "Larsa, stopped deflecting the question. I know you're good at that, but I'm here if you need to talk. So talk."

Larsa bit his lip and shook his head. "It's nothing."

Vaan was silent for a minute, head cocked as he studied Larsa. The boy's hunched shoulders and nearly hostile aura triggered painful memories.

"Is this about... Gabranth?" Vaan asked.

Larsa drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. He didn't want Vaan to continue his line of questioning, but he didn't trust himself to speak. Gabranth... Of course he missed Gabranth, Basch's twin brother. The Magistrate was one of the few men whose loyalty was unshakable and Larsa missed him sorely. But it wasn't the same. Gabranth had never let him down. Not like--

"It's Vayne, isn't it?"

Larsa pressed his hands against his eyes, willing the images to cease appearing. The ones of his brother, before the whole war. And the ones that scared him most, the ones of him on Bahamut, with something akin to bloodlust in his eyes.

why?

He heard Vaan slid off the desk and with a pang thought that Vaan was going to leave. But instead the Dalmascan grabbed his arm and tugged him gently to his feet.

"Come on. This room is too small for your problem. You need to go somewhere bigger."

Larsa allowed himself to be led to one of the balcony's stone benches.

"Sit," Vaan ordered, sitting down on the other end of the bench himself.

Larsa, having nothing better to do, sat. "What does this have to do with Vayne?" he asked miserably.

Vaan tilted his head back and breathed in deeply of the clean night air. "Everything."

Larsa swiped at his cheek, which was wet again. He was surprised to see a faint wet streak on Vaan's face as well. "Vaan?"

"My brother once told me that the sky was the only thing that could bear the weight of our pain without shattering..." Vaan sighed and ran his hands through his hair, paying no attention to his own tears. "I don't know how else to say this, Larsa, but trust me. When the questions start plaguing you, the best way is to just talk them out. I'll listen."

"There's nothing to talk about," Larsa sniffed. "He's gone."

Vaan was silent for a moment, dropping his head and tugging at his hair. "When I lost Reks... my world came crashing down. For weeks I kept seeing him there on the hospital bed... I couldn't get it out of my mind."

Larsa pulled his knees against his chest. "I... I keep seeing Vayne on the Bahamut... when he fought you and Basch and... Gabranth." He took a shuddering breath. The memory still gave him shivers. "I was terrified. In all my life I had never been terrified of my own brother."

"...I hated him."

The quiet admission startled Larsa. "Hated him? Why?"

"After Reks died, I started to hate a lot of things. The army for losing. Basch - or Gabranth, whoever -- for killing my brother. The Imperials... for everything. I couldn't see it, but it was eating me up. And when Vayne got elected as consul for Dalmasca, it just gave me a figure to focus all my hate on."

"Penelo said he frightened her... but how could that be? Like me, Vayne was taught that the duty of House Solidor was to place the need of others before ourselves. He would not go out of his way to harm you."

"As long as you weren't his enemy."

"But even then Vayne was not one to use brute force. I can't recount the number of times he's smoothed the ruffled feathers of one consul or another with his words. It was so unlike him to go after power like he did on the Bahamut."

"It seemed he was content with wanting power," Vaan observed. "Even before Bahamut."

"What would you know?" Larsa snapped, suddenly angry. "You didn't know him. I did."

Vaan counted to ten. Then to twenty. Then to thirty.

Then, very carefully, he spoke. "So... why don't you tell me?"

Larsa, braced for a biting retort, blinked. There was nothing but compassion on Vaan's face.

It was as though a dam broke and the words tumbled out, memories buried so far inside that he hadn't realized how deep the pain went.

Vaan didn't say anything. He just patted his shoulder. And listened.

xXxXxXx

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop. But she had been restless tonight, her room bringing back too many memories. Painful memories. She wished they would stop haunting her... but at the same time, she was terrified to let them go for fear of forgetting. She had gone out to the open-air balcony in an attempt to escape them. Her balcony was a good five stories above the one that Larsa and Vaan were on, but the palace walls channeled their voices up to her with crystal clear clarity.

She suspected that they'd been designed that way.

Once she realized what they were talking about, she moved away from the railing edge to a place where she could no longer make out their words, respecting their privacy. But the words she couldn't help remembering struck a chord deep within her.

They were healing.

Maybe... maybe it was high time she did some healing of her own. Wouldn't Lord Rasler want her to do that?

Tears sprang into her eyes and she quickly swiped at them.

"Please, dear Rasler... I too must move on."

Unable to keep the tears back, she let them fall as she looked up at the night sky and its tapestry of stars. Yes, she would start healing. And it would start tomorrow, with the person she owed it to most.

A streak of white flashed across the sky, its vivid trail outshining the stars as it lingered for a moment. Then, as if it had never been, it faded away.