A/N: Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy 2011 everyone! I wrote this mini-fic for ygodrabble's Secret Santa exchange, and I thought it was amusing enough to share. I hope you all enjoy!
"Malik Ishtar, I swear on all that is holy, if you don't get in here and stuff this turkey I will send Ra's wrath upon you!"
Isis meant it, too. Her left eye brow was raised and her mouth was formed into an unmercifully rigid line, giving her an unnaturally furious-and-deadly look about her. For those who knew Isis well (that count being approximately two) also knew that when the normally mellow woman wore that hazardous look, only two subjects could be the cause: the end of the world, or cooking.
As the only woman of the household, Isis had been taught since birth how to cook and bake - but unfortunately, she had lacked the talent for it since the day she was old enough to hold a spoon. Within a span of a few hours, Isis was known for bringing complete disaster to a kitchen and the poor deceased creatures that were supposed to be the family meal. It was a source of much frustration throughout the years for Isis Ishtar, the Egyptology genius who rescued hundreds of ancient artifacts and made a whole nation appreciate her antique culture - and who couldn't cook a simple duck for a family dinner.
But that didn't mean she didn't try. And this year she was trying especially hard, because it was an important year for her entire family: the first year the three of them would spend Christmas together above ground. In the real world, like a real family. Isis wanted everything to be perfect. Since Malik insisted on living in Japan after the Ceremonial Duel for at least a little while ("If I ever see an Eye of Horus symbol ever again, it'll be too soon"), Isis then insisted that they have a "normal", traditional Japanese Christmas. Unfortunately for them all, that included "normal", traditional Japanese Christmas food.
She had been doing remarkably well for a little while, but as a hours dragged on, Isis was just about the tear out her hair streaming with just the sheer around of work she had to get done. She had long ago abandoned the idea as the woman of the house having to prepare the meals at total bullshit, but Malik and Rishid had been gone all day in the city. They both knew that an Isis with a cutting knife was a creature whose earth she stood on was treacherous territory.
Unfortunately, they both could only stay away for so long. It was now mid afternoon. Despite how quiet they both attempted to be, Isis still heard them come in through the back door with her catlike ears. "Malik…"
Malik peaked his head around the corner and threw his sister a nervous smile. "Yo, sis. How's dinner coming?"
Isis's demeanor didn't crack, even a little bit. She waved her figure, indicating for him to come into the kitchen. "You too, Rishid," she called, her best don't-fuck-with-me voice turned to its highest level.
With a sigh, Rishid emerged from around the corner as well. He and Malik exchanged worried looks, like two children preparing to get a torrential scolding from their mother. A part of Isis's resolve threatened to break at that look. Not from the guilty worry that they both wore, but the profound innocence that radiated from the both of them as their eyes met. Isis hadn't seen Malik look like that in almost twenty years, and she had never seen Rishid look like that.
But she straightened her back, refusing to lose her intimidation over the two men. "The turkey," said Isis briskly. "Now."
A crack of a smile formed on her lips as she watched Malik scurry over to the counter like a child fleeing from a poisonous snake. She could see Rishid wearing an amused smile as well. He was, after all, the eldest by a few good years, and had less to be afraid of from Isis (though not significantly less).
Watching Rishid smile so easily nowadays brought Isis more happiness than she cared to admit. She could tell that finally, after almost thirty years spent with the Ishtar family, he no longer thought himself a servant to the Ishtar siblings, but a brother. Of course, Malik and Isis had regarded him as such since the day of their births, but it still took him a long while, even after Battle City, to stop referring to them as "Master Malik" and "Mistress Isis". They both had insisted he stop treating them like superiors after returning to Egypt after Battle City, but Rishid had taken more time than the others to relax into the notion that they didn't want a servant – they wanted their brother.
Malik, after countless apologies to the both of them for his horrible actions during Battle City (and especially to Rishid for his thoughtless treatment of the man, which Rishid forgave with almost no effort and all sincerity), had also took to smiling and laughing at every opportunity he got. He was still sick of the burden he carried on his back weighing him down, but instead of revenge, Malik looked to living his life the fullest and happiest ways he could. He had grown into a young man with his finally accepting his ancient task and putting aside his grief for the life he was forced to miss – but that didn't mean that he didn't act like a complete child sometimes.
Malik looked like a rather disgruntled and disgusted child, in fact, as he stared down at the lump of meat in front of him. "Ra, sis, I have to stick my hand up that thing's ass?"
Isis could hear Rishid chortling quietly in his corner where he took to chopping up the vegetables, and Isis almost grinned – to Isis, Rishid's laugh, was a wonderful sound that wasn't heard nearly enough. She could say the same about Malik's innocent smile he wore often nowadays. But at the moment, the man was wearing nothing close to a smile as he examined the turkey like it was a foreign creature.
"That's the general gist of it, brother," said Isis, not a bit haughtily. Like every good older sister, Isis enjoyed the baby of the family being lightly humiliated every once in a while. Teasing was something that all three of them never took for granted, now that they were free from the suffocating restrictions of their life underground.
In their old life, everything the three of them did, every word that they spoke, could have meant life or death to one or more of them. Everything they touched was holy, everything was taken seriously. Because of this, Rishid and Isis had being depraved of a childhood, and Malik was stripped of his at too young an age. The dynamics of a "normal" family were lost to them for such a long time. Nowadays, Isis still had no clue was a "normal" family was like - she just wanted her family to be happy.
To smile at one another, to laugh and joke with one another, to eat with one another without forced silence weighing down of them. To lightly tease one another, like siblings do. And to share a Christmas dinner with one another, like a family does.
Isis's pensive thoughts must have gotten out somehow, because a strong pair of arms suddenly woke her from them. They wrapped around her shoulders tightly, and from behind her, a larger set of arms also hugged her. All of a sudden, Isis lost her hardened resolve and felt like crying for joy at the feel of their embrace - something precious she had never felt before in her entire life.
"You're doing a great job, Isis," whispered Malik. One of his heart-melting smiles was on his face as he pulled away from Isis, which caused a few tears let loose from her eyes.
"Thank you," said Rishid with a nod, as his hand gently squeezed her shoulder. None of them had to say what they were referring to. It wasn't just their first Christmas dinner that they were talking about – it was their whole new life that they had created together, that she had created for them. The life that she had always wanted for them. For the first time in a long time, with her brothers' reassurance, Isis finally felt like she was doing something right.
Isis rubbed the tears from her eyes and laughed for the first time all day. Not even she knew she had been holding so much worry in. Those cheesy American Christmas movies that Malik was addicted to weren't lying after all – the holidays can get so unexpectedly emotional. And unexpectedly precious as well.
"Mmm," hummed Isis amusedly, a teasing grin appearing through the tears on her face, "Nice try, Malik. But you're still stuffing that turkey, even if it kills us both."
"Aw, sis."
Well, thought Isis with a smile, Maybe their first Christmas together might not be as "normal" as she hoped it would be. But at least it would be theirs.