"On your knees!"

Ezra grunted as he collapsed to the ground, his captor pressing down on his back rougher than necessary. He lifted his head and tossed aside the lengthy bangs that obscured his view of Umbrill. The man had his back to the boy, a fierce silhouette gazing out into the sunset. A soft breeze lifted the trims of his coat and carried the scent of whisky and cigars.

"Leave us," Umbrill commanded, his voice especially stern.

Ezra watched from his periphery as all of Umbrill's servants hastily left the balcony. He squirmed in his ropes, seeking out the one fray that might grant his freedom.

Umbrill turned and finally gazed upon the boy at his feet. A disappointed sigh escaped his nostrils.

"What?" Ezra spat, licking the cut on his lip as it burned from the movement. "Wasn't the one you wanted?"

"No, my son." Umbrill leaned against the rail and crossed his arms. His coat pinched tightly around his chest. "You are exactly who I wanted."

"Then why the long face? Figured your first success in a while would at least grant me a smile. I deserve that much, I think, from my own flesh and blood."

As if waking from a stupor, Umbrill hopped to Ezra's side and lifted him to his feet. He slipped a knife off his belt and through the ropes that held his prisoner before turning towards the whisky cabinet. Ezra rubbed his chafing wrists, confused. What was the catch, leaving himself so perfectly exposed to an attack?

"Why did you want me?"

"Sometimes besting your opponent is not a matter of brute force."

"Took brute force to get me here."

"Did I best you?"

Ezra flinched. "No, I guess," he mused, looking away with a deep frown on his brow. "Churn did. But that doesn't answer my question! Why am I here?"

Umbrill chuckled wryly, swirling his whisky before taking a long draught. "It's funny how you think you are my opponent." Setting aside the glass, he stood and approached his prisoner. "Ezra, my dear boy, I think you and I should... reevaluate our relationship."

"In your dreams!" Again Ezra spat, this time launching a hand towards Umbrill's face. He took the slap without flinching.

"I could give you the whole speech," he continued, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the cut on his cheek. "Threaten you, threaten your friends. A life of luxury, a life of misery. The whole nine yards. I think you know the drill by now."

Ezra narrowed his eyes, unsure where this conversation was headed.

"But I've raised you better than that. You're stronger than even I give you credit for. Not easily swayed; not easily broken. You would do anything to save them, a loyalty that I wish I could proclaim for some people in these halls. You must have gotten it from Kal--"

"Don't you dare breathe my mother's name!"

Ezra stumbled as Umbrill's palm landed squarely against his jaw. There he was! That was the man Ezra knew and hated, the man that claimed his ancestry. Steeling his nerves, Ezra hardly allowed himself a second to compose before facing Umbrill, ready for the second strike. It never came. Ezra's harsh glare melted into confusion as he looked up into the tears in the man's eyes.

"You would do anything to save them. And that is why I must do this." Umbrill smothered Ezra's yelp beneath a thick cloth steeped in heavy ointments. The boy's eyes rolled back and his body slumped, but Umbrill gently caught him and lowered him to the floor. Working quickly before the ointments affects wore off, he pinched a firm hand against the base of Ezra's skull, muttering a few words that triggered a reaction.

Ezra sputtered awake, coughing fumes as the ointment singed his nostrils. Umbrill yanked his son into an embrace, crying, "Thank the stars! You're alive! I finally found you. You're alive."

A long moment passed. Umbrill began to wonder if his concoction had worked when Ezra pulled away to gaze up at his father's worn and teary face. "Dad?"

"Yes, my son," Umbrill smiled gently, pushed aside his son's bangs and gently touching foreheads. "I am here now. You never have to fear them again."

"What, what's going on?"

"You... don't remember?"

Ezra gazed about, a child-like innocence softening his usually harsh expression. His eyes turned back to his father, and a hand instinctively reached for the cut he had delivered but moments before. "Remember what?" His eyes widened and he touched his throat and looked down at his hands, shocked at the scars and calluses that had formed over the years. He grabbed Umbrill's arms, a quiver entering his voice, and said, "Dad, what happened to me? What's going on? Why can't I remember--"

"Shh, it's okay. I have you now. And I will protect you this time. I promise. It will be a long time before you recover, but I have you now."

Author's Note: I keep having random writing prompts appear on my Pinterest page so I decided to finally put them to practice. Feedback is always welcome!

~ Dani