Title: Daddy's Footsteps

Title: Daddy's Footsteps (1/1)

Rating: PG

Characters: Armand Isard, Ysanne Isard

Category: drama, POV

Summary: While waiting for his execution, Armand Isard receives a visit from his daughter.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Iceheart (or anything Star Wars, for that matter), but since her Daddy (Stackpole, that is) has neglected her for so long, I've decided to adopt her for my own fun and the fun of other fans. No money is being made out of this, no infringement intended.

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"Isard? You have a visitor."

Isard. Not "Director Isard" anymore, of course not. I'm a disgraced men, sitting in a cell, waiting to be executed for high treason.

You have a visitor. I knew who it would be even before she walked through the door of my cell. Just like I know who framed me. And I can't even blame her for it. After all, the urge to save one's own skin is part of human nature.

But then, with my Ysanne, that shrewd, icy being, I'm not that sure whether she's still human.

There she is, standing steel-spined straight as always, her poise radiating energy and elegance and hardness. I wonder whether she still remembers how I used to tell her, "Don't slump. Don't be ashamed that you're tall." Nowadays, Ysanne is not ashamed for much.

I wonder why she has come. I doubt that it's absolution she seeks, my girl is not afraid of guilt. In fact, she's always been too proud to be afraid of anything. Except for the Emperor – he can still make her sick with fear if he likes to.

She looks at me without a word, without even her face telling me anything. I wonder whether she expects me to speak to her first. But probably, she doesn't think I have the right to. I'm just a condemned man.

So I merely return her gaze that tells me nothing, until she finally says, "I've been made the new Director of Imperial Intelligence. I thought you would like to know."

That's what she's come here for. To tell me that she has taken my place. That was to be expected, wasn't it? The winner takes it all.

So, she's following in her daddy's footsteps. Does she expect me to be proud of her? In a strange way, I actually am.

There she is, my grown-up girl who has come into her own. Proud, smart, determined, ice-cold Ysanne; she doesn't owe me much these days; and I wouldn't be surprised if she knew that. No doubt she will serve the Emperor well.

I give her no reply, not even when we reach a point where I'm almost sure that my silence annoys her. Not that my Ysanne would ever allow herself the weakness of admitting to being annoyed. That would be too petty for her. Even her anger is as cold as ice.

And besides, I don't care whether I annoy her. I will be executed anyhow, she can't do any more to me than she already has. So I remain silent until she turns to walk out the door, turns so that I can see only one of her eyes, the one that's the color of glowing embers and freshly spilled blood.

Only then do I speak.

"Ysanne?"

She turns back and looks at me. Her gaze is steel and glacier and blood, this being that I've raised and that I don't understand. I'm almost surprised that I find enough of my voice for the next broken word –

"Why?"

She says it under her breath, it is only for our ears.

"You taught me, father."

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