Reflections

Writers: Avery
Date Posted: 28th November 2005

Characters: Ishek
Description: Ishek has nightmares and flashbacks of the dreadful days when his wife was missing.
Location: Garnet Valley Hold
Date: month 8, day 27 of Turn 3

Day 0:

Had it really been only seven candlemarks since he'd kissed Shama goodbye? Ishek couldn't believe that that little time had passed. He remembered so clearly the feel of her warm lips pressed against his, her beautiful red hair flowing down to spill against the dark runner-riding jacket that was too large for her but was the only one she could wear- they didn't have many for _females_, after all, so she had to borrow his. She had promised him that it would be a short ride, that she would be back before mid-afternoon and they could share dinner together. His work would be done by then, and they could spend the entire night alone, relaxing; something that they hadn't done in many sevendays. He had been so busy lately, busier than ever before, which was part of the reason why Shama had been riding more and more lately. She had time to take a two candlemark ride in the noon and still come home to finish her duties before he arrived back. He had been eagerly anticipating this night together.

Night was falling now, though, and still Shama had not returned. Her runner had been found lamed wandering the trails nearby around mid-afternoon. Of Shama herself there had been no trace. He had sent out Yimas to find his golden mate Ishama, but he had not returned either. Worry began to worm its way into Ishek's heart. **What could possibly have happened to her?** he thought.

A guard came and lay his hand on his shoulder. "Sir, perhaps you should go in and lie down," he began, "I'll stay out here in case she comes back."

Ishek was reluctant to go, but go he did. She would come back just as quickly regardless of whether he was here or in their rooms, so he should wait inside. Turning to head inside, he couldn't help but cast a few glances back over his shoulder, repeatedly, hoping that perhaps this time he would see a familiar figure silhouetted against the dying light of the horizon. But there was nothing.

Day 1:

It had been a day now since Shama had left on her ill-fated ride. Ishek had been unable to sleep the last night, catching only a few scant candlemarks here and there. Ishama had flicked from /between/ only a candlemark ago, creeling distress and fear- but she could project no useful images other then darkness, the faint flickering of a fire, and terrible pain. Yimas had crooned desperately, wrapping his smaller frame around her in a vain attempt to comfort his queen and lifelong mate, but she would not be consoled and had flicked /between/ from his very grasp. Dejected, Yimas had curled around Ishek's neck and had not moved since.

Ishek had done his work today, as he had yesterday, but his concentration was definitely impaired. He ignored the insistings of family and friends that he should rest or take a break- he needed the distraction of work to keep him sane. As long as he was busy, he was fine. It was only when the work stopped that he realized that his beloved wife was out there somewhere, in the chill of winter, in terrible pain. That knowledge stabbed into his heart, along with his helplessness. To stave it off, he turned to his work again.

Day 2:

Another miserable day. He had gotten through barely a tenth of the work for the day, and what he had not finished for the other days was still piled up on his desk. It was staring at him, accusing him. He knew he needed to do it but he just. couldn't. concentrate.

Finally he shoved back from his desk. **Yimas?** he thought, concentrating on his brown in his mind and sending thoughts of warmth, love, and food- thought, admittedly, it was hard to conjure up any sense of emotion. He was either overwhelmed, lying in bed at night sobbing desperately as he tried to comprehend how his wife, his companion, could be missing and gone and in such agony as both Yimas and Ishama could project, or numb, as he was in the daytime when he worked or put up the brave front to his family.

The worst part was the stares of the others. By now everyone in the Hold knew that she was gone, of course. Some stared at him with pity evident on their faces and on their eyes. Some chose to mask it, only staring at him with such gazes while he was away, while others left it visible in his presence. They were trying to be sympathetic or nice, he assumed, but in truth it hurt. They weren't the worst, though, not by a long shot. Others stared at him or after him accusingly. Oh, he knew the whispers that were going out- all the rumors that it was his fault, the accusations that his permissiveness was what caused it. There was perhaps some truth to that, which hurt him deeply; had he been more traditional, less inclined to giving her her way, she would not be gone right now, most likely taken by bandits. And, even worse, the rumors that he was _glad_ she was gone, that he was so permissive in hopes that she would leave. Those rumors were spread by those who loved to imagine or perceive disloyal relationships or conflicts among the leadership. There was no truth to them. Ishek loved his wife desperately. The accusations that he was deliberately delaying or misleading the search for her stung deeply. He would give anything to have her back.

Yimas appeared from /between/, Ishama with him. She fluttered to a perch on his desk and stared at him reproachfully, as if she, too, was accusing him of being unable to find Hers. He knew there was no truth to that statement- or at least he hoped so, firelizards couldn't be accusing, could they?- but he felt a pain in his heart nonetheless; seeming accusation from this unexpected quarter was almost too much for him to bear. He sunk back in his chair and put his head in his hands, tears sprung to the corners of his eyes and threatened to blur his vision. "Faranth, you too?" he cried, sending an agonized look to the golden beauty on his desk. Would the stares never cease?

Day 3:

Ishek set aside the hide he was writing on. He couldn't _concentrate_ anymore. The hidework was piling up to dangerous levels on his desk, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't, couldn't work anymore- not until this was over. He wasn't expected to, hadn't been, he knew, but he had tried to do it anyway, just to prove he could- and also to distract himself from the horrible ache in his chest, the miserable pain he felt whenever he had time to think about the fact that what he loved most on Pern was missing, was gone. But now he couldn't continue any longer, had to set aside even this distraction. He cursed his own weakness even as he realized the futility of working any longer. He was too distracted, making too many mistakes. He was worthless right now, worthless- and alone.

The accursed stares hadn't gone away yet. There were more of the pitying kind, far fewer of the accusatory; the people who had been casting accusing glances in his direction now gave him glances of pity, finally, _finally_ realizing the agony that he was going through. It could have been vindication, he thought- but it wasn't. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Shama, and she was missing, she was gone.

He put his head in his hands, but he did not cry. He would not cry, he would be strong. He was a good man, of good blood, and would not disgrace himself with sobs and tears- not until he knew for sure what had happened, one way or the other.

Day 4:

A winter storm was coming now, and Ishek found himself consumed by worry. Shama, wherever she was, could not possibly hope to survive this unprotected. He was near-frantic now, pacing around, continually heading out and asking the guard in charge of the search for updates- and it wasn't even the peak of the daylight yet!

Finally the guard, who had patiently been putting up with Ishek because he knew how distressed he would be if his wife was missing in the same way, could take no more. "Good sir," he snapped, "either join the search or get out of my hair!" Realizing that he had been harsh, he quickly corrected himself. "I apologize for my rudeness, sir, but it's hard for me to work like this."

Ishek had been stunned by the guard's vehemence. Another man might have taken offense and backhanded the guard or sharply dismissed him; Ishek, however, saw the correctness of his statement. Realizing how he was behaving, he stopped and calmed down. "It is I who should apologize to you," he replied quietly, "for it is I who am in the wrong." He looked up, eyes hopeful. "Could I really?" he asked, showing the first sign of real life for days.

A lesser guard might have been surprised by the non-sequitur, but this one was not. "Join the search?" he asked. At Ishek's confirming nod, he pondered. "I don't see why not." he said.

"Thank you." Ishek said sincerely. "This will give me a sense of purpose, a way to help. I...thank you." Ishek was usually far more sure with his words, but his emotional state was in such turmoil that he found himself unable to seek the correct words out.

Day 5:

Ishek had participated in the search yesterday, but it was in vain. He couldn't find his beautiful, his beloved. In fact, he felt like he'd held back the search, so today he stayed home and dealt with work while waiting.

The guard entered. Ishek jumped to his feet. "Do you have news?" he demanded.

The guard bowed his head. "We found your wife, m'lord." he said softly. "She was dead." Without looking up, he continued. "We can take you to where we found the body.

Ishek nodded, stunned. **Shama, dead?** he thought numbly. Intellectually he had known it was a possibility of course, but he had cling to the hope that she would survive somehow. He allowed himself to be lead and rode the runner to where she was, but his mind and thoughts were consumed in memories of himself, and Shama, and all the things that they had done and the time they had spent together and the time that they should have spent together and the time that they would never again have.

He dismounted and followed the guard to the gravelly ravine with the rocks. There he saw her, pale flesh easily visible against the grey rocks, red hair spread around her in a halo much like it had been spread on their pillows the night before she disappeared. Alone he continued down, slipping and sliding down the slope. He picked her up and cradled her tenderly in his arms. Her porcelain flesh was marked with bruises and cuts, and from her body and clothes he knew that the bandits must have done terrible things to her before she died. She was smaller then he remembered, far weaker and more fragile. The tears slipped down his face.

How long he mourned alone he did not know. Finally he straightened up and looked lost. "Will one of you..." He couldn't finish.

The sympathetic guard understood. He called over some others and asked them quietly to bring her body back to the Hold, while he stayed there to deal with Ishek's grief and help bring him back to the Hold.

Now:

Ishek woke up, shaking. He still dreamed of Shama, but usually it was of the lovely days they had had together. This...this was a nightmare, a horrible dream born of moving. He looked around, remembering. It was his first night at Garnet Valley Hold, where he was the Lord Regent. He was here, with a grand position... and Shama was still gone, as his nightmare had brought home so vividly. He was alone, without her. He wished she could have seen this, she would have loved it, he knew.

He got up and paced around the unfamiliar rooms, finally ending up at a window, staring out over the unfamiliar landscape. **Shama, come back to me.** he thought desperately to a wife who would never return, never again stir and part those lips and open those eyes. Only the howling winds answered his plea.

Last updated on the November 28th 2005

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Reflections