So. Yet another drabblishly short piece, brought to you by the fact that I have not finished typing a longer fic. Why do I write several things at once, you might ask? Sometimes I ask myself the same thing. The answer may have something to do with caffeine. Perhaps. .
I was thinking about the Rishid x Isis pairing when I wrote this. Some people see it happening, some people say absolutely not. What think you? I tried to explore the Rishid x Isis idea here, but a good deal of the fic ends up pointing out another fact: Ishtar-sama would not win any father-of-the-year awards. Ever.
That said, on with the fic!
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"No…don't touch me…"
Isis pulled her hands back from the torn shirt, but moved again when Rishid said nothing more. "You're injured, Rishid," she said, trying not to reveal how frightened she was. "Let me help you." She began to cut away the rest of the ripped and bloodied tunic.
Rishid hissed in pain as Isis removed the tunic from his back. "Don't…please don't…"
Isis felt dizzy on seeing the whole of Rishid's back. Dearest Gods, please help him… It was her fault – they should have come back sooner, shouldn't have gone out at all. Father would have never known, wouldn't have tied Rishid down and beaten him like a dog. "I'm so sorry, Rishid," she whispered, feeling at the same time how inadequate the words were. "I'm so sorry."
Through a fog of pain, Rishid could hear Isis apologizing. For what? He licked his lips and summoned his voice. "No," he said, "I'm sorry…it's my fault…I shouldn't have been so careless. I deserve…I deserve…" His voice trailed off as he fought the blackness threatening to overtake him. "I deserve this."
Frowning, Isis used one hand to feel his forehead. Is he feverish? She dropped her hand when she felt the temperature to be normal. It must be the pain. He's confused, that's all. She took a deep breath, trying to reassure herself as she wrung out a strip of cloth, still steaming from being sterilized in boiling water. "You do not deserve this," she said firmly. "No one does."
Rishid shook his head into the blankets beneath him. "I do…I deserve it. I should have died. I can't even protect Malik…the son…I can't…"
It frightened Isis to see him this way. She wanted to shake him, to bring him back. "We need you, Rishid!" she said finally, desperately.
He shook his head again, but jerked involuntarily as Isis placed the steaming cloth on one shoulder. The howl of pain was torn from his throat before he could stop it. Gods…
Isis bit her lip to keep from crying as she placed another wet cloth over the lines of agony mapped across Rishid's back. "Please, Rishid. I…I can't do this alone."
Rishid was clinging to the edges of consciousness, panting as the pain threatened to overtake his mind. I can't do this alone. I can't…I can't…
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Ishtar-sama had already known when he called Rishid to his study. "Where is my son?" he had asked.
Rishid's heart was pounding, but he answered calmly. "I am certain Malik-sama is at his studies, sir."
"Bring him to me. Now."
"Yes, sir."
Rishid had stalled as long as he could, praying that he would round a corner and find Malik and Isis. It was getting late, and he was beginning to get desperate. Where —
"Where the hell are they, boy?"
Rishid jumped, startled; Ishtar-sama had come up behind him in the room without him noticing. "I—"
"Where, boy?" He was starting to close in on Rishid. "They didn't go above, did they?"
"Sir, I— " His sentence was cut off as Ishtar-sama struck him, hard.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
"No, sir! I—"
"Shut up! I give you the task of looking after Malik, the heir of the family, and this is how you repay me?" he roared. "You've put my son in danger once before. Now I see that it was a mistake to give you a second chance."
Rishid fell to his knees; Ishtar-sama was unstoppable when angry, and the only thing left to do now was to beg for mercy. But he already knew there was no chance of getting out of this one. I'm sorry, Malik-sama…I truly am…
The man grabbed Rishid's collar and dragged him to the next room. "I'll show you what happens to those who fail me twice, boy," he hissed. He shook Rishid roughly, like a jackal might shake a field mouse, before throwing him down.
As scared as Rishid was, he could only worry about Malik and Isis. Would they come back? Had something happened to them? Had they been caught by a trap while trying to re-enter the home? His mind was racing as he lay on his side, trying not to incur any more of Ishtar-sama's wrath. He cried out suddenly when the man stepped on his wrists, pinning them to the floor.
"Ungrateful bastard," Ishtar-sama hissed. He produced a coil of rope, binding Rishid's wrists tightly. He kicked him in the ribs, causing Rishid to gasp and cough. "Where are they?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Don't play games with me. Where are they?"
Rishid shook his head mutely and curled into himself as Ishtar-sama kicked him again.
The man pulled sharply on the other end of the rope, bringing Rishid up to his knees. When he spoke again his voice was flat, belying the rage behind it. "Tell me. Now. Where is Malik?" The servant shook his head again, and Ishtar-sama backhanded him, furious. "WHERE IS HE?"
When the young man refused to speak, Ishtar-sama took the other end of the rope and tied it to the base of a nearby column. He then strode purposefully to another corner and returned with several long blades. Rishid paled as they were dropped on the floor with a clang.
"Where are they?"
Rishid looked down at the floor and said nothing.
Fuming, Ishtar-sama picked up the long knives and plunged them into the flames of a nearby sconce. He took other, smaller sconces from the walls and poured the embers over the blades. The smell of hot metal began to fill the room, and Rishid tried to keep himself from panicking.
In what seemed like mere minutes later, Rishid heard the sound of metal on metal as Ishtar-sama drew one iron blade from the flames. He braced himself as the man approached, stopping in front of him. Now he could see that the blade was white hot; Rishid could actually feel the heat from it as Ishtar-sama let the tip of the blade drag over the stone floor and stop a hair's-breadth away from his arm.
"Tell me where they are."
Rishid hesitated, then drew a breath as he turned away. "I don't know."
"Liar!" Ishtar-sama hissed. He let the dull edge of the blade trail up and over one of Rishid's arms, relishing the sound the young man made as he struggled not to scream. "Have you forgotten your place?" He drew another line across Rishid's arm. "Where is my son?"
Rishid clenched his jaw to keep from yelling. I'm sorry, Malik-sama. I couldn't hold him off any longer. He prayed that Malik and Isis would return quickly. If they did, perhaps Rishid could convince Ishtar-sama to spare Malik from the terrible punishment he was sure to get. He drew a sharp breath, trying to block the pain of his left arm. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Ishtar-sama, however, was growing impatient, and his anger was still mounting. "I finally have a son, a real son, and now I find he has left." The man paced around Rishid. "He is the life, the future line of this clan!" Rishid winced, both at Ishtar-sama's tone and the kick he had received in his ribs again. "And where were you? How could you do this?" he seethed. "I'll teach you…you fucking son of a whore…you worthless ingrate!"
With these words, Rishid sensed rather than saw Ishtar-sama raise the white-hot blade above him. He put his head down as Ishtar-sama shouted at him once more. "WHERE IS HE?"
Rishid shook his head, and his world exploded in blinding white pain – Ishtar-sama had struck him full-force with the knife. Rishid screamed. He couldn't help it. The blade bit into his back, and it was made a thousand times worse by the awful pain of the blistering heat.
Ishtar-sama took up another blade from the fire, using the razored edge to draw a deliberate line slowly across Rishid's shoulder blades. Rishid yelled, his body instinctively trying to move away from the knife. But there was nowhere to go.
"Coward," Ishtar-sama hissed. "You're pathetic. You can't even be trusted to look after a child." He laid another blade across the servant's back viciously, listening with sick satisfaction as Rishid screamed again. "Worthless," he spat, kicking the young man cruelly.
Rishid groaned, trying to fight the wave of pain threatening to make him sick. No sooner had he steadied his mind, when Ishtar-sama would strike another heavy blow, screaming insults at him in his rage. He could no longer answer Ishtar-sama, even if he'd wanted to – he couldn't catch his breath, couldn't stop screaming.
"Where is he?" Rishid shook his head, half-blinded by the pain. The rain of blows continued in burning, bleeding agony, and Ishtar-sama was no longer pausing to hear a response. "Where is he? Where is my son?" he yelled.
Rishid squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop the pain. Malik-sama…I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I have failed you… Suddenly, though, a frightened scream cut through his dulled thoughts.
"RISHID!"
He couldn't even turn his head to look, but he knew it was Malik. There was a terrible pause in the blows as Ishtar-sama turned to face his son in the doorway. His voice was hard and flat as he spoke. "Malik. This is what happens to those who disobey me." Then he struck Rishid again with the white-hot blade.
Rishid screamed in agony. Stay back, Malik-sama. Stay away. I have failed you…Forgive me…worthless…I'm so sorry… He wasn't even sure if the last words he spoke actually came out of his mouth or if they, too, had been caught in the fog of pain slowing his tongue, the blackness closing in on his mind. "Malik-sama…I'm sorry…I have failed you…" Then all was darkness.
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He didn't know how long he was out, but when he came to again he almost didn't believe it. Had he died? Was this the underworld? "Malik-sama…" he rasped.
"Rishid? You're…you're alive. Rishid!"
"Malik! Rishid!" Now it was Isis's voice that he heard as he struggled to sit up. The pain was so great he could barely breathe, but he forced himself up, steadying himself on the cold floor. He saw the body almost immediately.
Oh, Gods. "Don't look, Malik-sama," he warned, looping his still-bound arms around the boy, trying to shield him. "Don't look."
"At what? Rishid…?" There was silence, then a shriek from the small boy. "Rishid!"
"Malik, it's OK, calm down." Isis spoke bravely, but Rishid could see she was shivering.
"What happened? What happened?" Malik was starting to grow hysterical. "Rishid!"
"Isis," he said quietly, "can you take him?"
Isis nodded, then scooped up the boy as Rishid released him. "Shh…it's alright, Malik…"
Rishid tried to get to his feet but found he was too dizzy and sick with pain to move. Isis locked eyes with him. "I'll be right back," she whispered.
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled, sinking again into oblivion as Isis left.
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When he awoke for the second time he was lying in an actual bed. Isis, he had thought dizzily. How in the hells had she gotten him in here?
It didn't matter now. What mattered now was the fact that Isis was speaking with him, sounding rather desperate.
"Please, Rishid. I can't…I can't do this alone."
He clenched his fists in the blankets as she continued to tend to his back. "I am of no use, Isis," he said, gritting his teeth. "Even if I tried, I would only fail you. I…am worthless," he finished.
"Don't say that, Rishid. Don't say that." She had to convince him, drag him out of this. "Rishid…" She leaned closer. "Please…I need you. I need your help. Malik needs your help—"
"—I have failed Malik-sama," he said, almost mechanically.
Isis shook her head. Why did he have to be so stubborn? "You didn't fail him, Rishid. If anything, what happened was my fault."
Rishid's throat was dry, and he swallowed before he spoke. "No. No, it was in no way your fault. It wasn't."
She began applying a salve to the worst of the wounds, silent. "There's no point in finding blame here," she said finally. "The point is that we must take care of Malik first and foremost."
Yes. That was what they had to do. "I…I'm not sure that I can…" he faltered. …pathetic…can't even be trusted to look after a child…
"You can," Isis said, discarding a bloody rag. "You must. We both have to. Please, Rishid," her voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm scared. Don't leave me alone."
For a moment all was silence, save the sound of Rishid's shallow breathing. Finally he spoke. "I won't leave you to do this alone, Isis. I swear it." He closed his eyes then as Isis leaned over him, her lips brushing the scars on his cheekbone in a gentle kiss. "Thank you, Rishid."
He sighed as she returned to bandaging his back. She was right, as usual. The only thing left to do was carry on…
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Fin.
So. What think you, dear readers? Feel free to zing a review my way if you'd like. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. XD
