Title: In The Wake of Tommorrow, Chapter 1

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII

Pairings: Primarily Penelo X Larsa, some Penelo X Vayne and Penelo X Vaan later

Rating: R, NC-17 Later

Summary: The House of Solidor has always bred extraordinary men, as Penelo learned to both her joy and regret. An AU fic that takes place in a slightly altered version of the main game story line and centers around Penelo, Larsa, and anything and everything they managed to do together.

Disclaimer: Nothing but the particular combination of words in this piece belongs to me!

Author's Note: So here it is at last, the full-length, multi-chaptered Penelo X Larsa fanfic I promised myself I'd sit down and write one of these days. First things first, I want to thank all the kind reviewers of my earlier PXL fic, "The Blossom Upon the Bough." If you hadn't taken the time to review, I wouldn't have taken the time to try and revise this enough to post it up on the internet without expiring of shame. So thank you again for taking the time to send a little encouragement my way. :)

Second, I'd like to note that this fanfic is an AU that takes place in a slightly altered version of the game's main storyline. The main alteration is that Larsa is now 15, soon to be 16, in this fanfic, which will hopefully make the future NC-17 scenes a lot less nerve-wracking to write. (You can see what an older version of Larsa looks like by going to this piece of LXP fanart from this wonderful Japanese fansite.) Additionally, he doesn't return Penelo to Vaan and his party until he rejoins them in the village of Jahara, after the Dawn Shard loses its power. What they do until they rejoin the main game party makes up a substantial party of this fic...

And third, I'd like to say that reviews for this are MOST appreciated! This is my first potentially epic-length fic and I would love, love, LOVE to have some feedback over what's working and what ought to be killed with fire within this first chapter here. I wouldn't post my writings up online if I didn't think I could entertain someone besides myself. So please, even if you hated this piece, let me know. I'd very much appreciate knowing someone out there is interested in me continuing this.

And without further ado after this monstrously long opening note... the actual fanfic!

When Penelo met Vayne Carudas Solidor for the first time since she had seem him speak his way into her city's heart, she had initially been more surprised that alarmed.

It had been about two months since she had met Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, since her life had changed utterly. Though really, the changes to her life as a Dalmascan street urchin had probably happened long before-- since her parents died, since her friend Vaan had lost his mind and taken up stealing royal treasures with dashing air captains, since she had found herself stumbling away from the less than gentle hands of her Bangaa kidnappers into the arms of actual, honest to god royalty. And much like the princes she had read about in fairy tales, the one who had taken her hand in his that day also took her under his wing out of some strange sense of chivalry. From the moment they had first found each other stumbling out of the Lhusu mines, Larsa had acted as her guardian and protector, shielding her from the law and protecting her until she could reunite with her friends. Now, thoughtful as ever, he had taken her with him to the Archadian capital with him when he left the sky city of Bhujerba, having her stay by his side until he could gather enough evidence to justifying reuniting them both with Vaan's strange new party.

And so days upon days had passed sluggishly by in the kingdom Penelo found herself within, in a palace thronged by guards and courtiers and strangely helmed judges that stared at her as she wandered by and spoke of her as soon as they thought she was out of hearing distance. Some nights, it was all Penelo could do to not get out of her room, sneak down the long corridors that linked everything within the palace together, slip through the guards that kept a watch on the perimeter of the city and simply walk back to Rabanastre, unarmed and defenseless. Some part of her-- the sensible young lady that her parents would have been proud to raise, the one who always reigned her friends in when they went too far or got in over their heads-- knew very well that the very idea of instant freedom was madness. But when she looked up at the night sky through the grand terraces of Archadia, she could only wonder if the stars looked as beautiful to Vaan wherever he might be.

Penelo knew she didn't have anyone else to blame but herself for the strange sadness that always stirred within her at those points. Larsa, after all, did all that he could to alleviate any loneliness she might feel. He took his duty as her protector seriously, so much so that his devotion unnerved Penelo at times. He had given her his word as he had knelt down before her beneath the skies of Bhujerba and little dissuaded him from his duty now. He spent most of his day meeting with his advisors and gathering information, but as the month had gone on, he had also spent more and more time with her.

At first, he has spent only a few hours with her during the evenings, busying himself with paperwork as she lingered beside him like a forlorn, voiceless ghost. But as days and then weeks had gone by, they had grown closer-- first as acquaintances, then as companions, and finally as something approaching friends. She grew to know well that Larsa had no real people of his own age to be with; his closest companion, after all, happened to be a terrifying judge in silvered armor that called him Lord Larsa and attended to his every wish.

It didn't really surprise her that Larsa seemed to feel just as lonely within this gilded cage as Penelo did.

Each day, he seemed to spend more and more hours with her, doing more and more things: taking her out shopping, encouraging her to go through his personal library, even engaging in friendly spars with blunted weapons. Each day, Larsa seemed to grow more and more content with her company, and more and more inclined to warn her of how dangerous the world outside the palace gates was. And each day, Penelo both looked forward to and was just a little afraid of Larsa's growing sense of responsibility for her, as well as his impending visits.

Sometimes, Larsa reminded Penelo of the princes she had read about in stories, young and beautiful and kind and noble-- and completely, unfairly isolated. And just like those princes, Larsa seemed always in search of someone to rescue, someone to care for, someone to constantly help him over his solitude. Penelo felt thankful to Larsa, she really did. But the way he had of looking at her at times, with a strange yearning that would gather on his face and mist up his eyes, made her feel intensely uncomfortable. She didn't know him well enough to know what it was he wanted, but she knew the world well enough to know that it would be no use giving it to him.

He had his station play in life and she had another, completely different. She could not even begin to imagine a future where the two of them could stay friends after she found herself at home again.

And despite his many kindnesses, Penelo still longed terribly at times for the streets of Rabanastre. She knew she'd never again have the opportunity to live as grand a life as when she had Larsa beside her, tending to her needs and soothing her worries. She'd never again have the chance to attend an actual theatre, or try on dresses that cost Migelo's entire salary for a year, or even just linger about the palace he lived in, marveling at the treasures stored within. If she went back home, the most excitement she'd receive would be from running errands for shop customers or boxing Vaan's ears for "sampling" merchandise he should have delivered.

When she was with Larsa, it was easy enough to put aside her worries, to focus all her attention on the bright animation of his face, the graceful motion of his arms when they sparred together, the buoyant words of hope he always offered her about her future. But when she was without him, as she was too often, Penelo felt lonelier than she had at any other point in her life.

Still, she knew that Larsa didn't know how she felt and, out of a mix of guilt and gratefulness, did her best to turn a cheerful face to all of his escapades and diversions. And when they were together, she usually didn't even need to fake her enthusiasm. Though Larsa was younger than she, the breadth of his intelligence could take her breath away. Unfortunately, his unending enthusiasm in having her share all of his interests often did the same. And so she had been so busy quietly puzzling over some strange political text he had handed her earlier that evening (one of his favorites, he had told her, for preparing him for a future serving his empire) that she had not even seen Vayne coming for her until he was looming ahead.

Life had been so strange as of late that the sight of the Consul of Archadia striding down the halls of Larsa's private quarters seemed almost normal. He looked blasé, in fact, as he made his way over to the bench she perched upon, as if children from the city he oversaw were regular visitors here. But then Vayne turned his luminous eyes to Penelo and she remembered again that strange charisma that had led even die-hard patriots to consider him their best hope for the future.

"I need to speak to you," Vayne said, quietly, and something about the sheer power of him froze Penelo as effectively as a viper could ensnare a hare. But then he smiled and the unexpected gentling of his features, so reminiscent of Larsa's face, put her a little at ease. This close, Penelo could see clearly how many features the two of them shared together-- not merely the darkness of their hair or the color of their pupils, but also the narrow shape of their eyes, the slant of their eyebrows, the aristocratic curve of their lips. Even the way Vayne stood in front of her now, with his hands genteelly at his sides, reminded Penelo irrepressibly of her friend. At the age of fifteen, Larsa had not fully grown into his body yet, but Vayne was an enticing preview of what could come in the years ahead.

Larsa had been kind to her, had listened to her, had scandalized his guardian by sleeping on the floor beside her bed during the first nights, when she had been most scared. Larsa had been kind and surely his brother, whose praises he sang to the sky, would be as well. Vayne might have frightened her in Rabanastre-- his voice, his poise, something about the man was just uncanny-- but he was still Larsa's brother and she was more an intruder in his home than vice versa now. No matter how uncomfortable the discussion Penelo anticipated receiving would be, she knew nothing worse than a headache faced her at its advent.

And so, smiling nervously, Penelo offered her hand to him, letting him draw her into his arms to escort her to his private rooms for an intimate discussion.

A worse fool than she, Penelo later realized, had probably never lived.