Archive of Our Own ^beta

It felt as though a thousand trine had passed since skekUng last sat at the castle’s long table among his fellow Skeksis. What struck him most, strangely enough, was the smell. In his time spent in the swamp of Sog, he’d found himself dealing with more than one decaying corpse, but the smell of the castle was different. Musky, mildewy, and something else, something indescribable. Better and worse than flesh rot all at once. Had the castle always had such a scent to it? He couldn’t say for sure.

He’d served as an escort of sorts for the Ornamentalist, seeing as skekUng was far more capable in a fight than his travelling companion. SkekEkt was suited more to holding a fan than a sword, and skekUng could hardly imagine him fighting off a fizzgig, let alone possible marauders, spurred on by the word of this gelfling, Rian. That might have ruined his precious makeup.

Still, skekUng had no particular grievance with the Ornamentalist, and had been content to return to the castle alongside him. Although, he had to admit that he was disappointed when skekNa had declined to come as well. Unlike most of the other Skeksis, SkekNa wasn’t inclined to needless chatter and had made a very fine companion in skekUng’s time in Drenchen territory. His fascination with swamp plants was puzzling, but not annoying.

Even more disappointing was the absence of skekTek at dinner. The Skeksis at large dismissed him as a tinkerer, slight in stature, yet lacking in either combat or diplomatic skill. SkekUng found him agreeable enough, if not confusing, much like skekNa. Certainly better company than the whimpering Chamberlain, the spineless Ritual Master, or the stupid General.

And now, it seemed that SkekTek had finally made an impressive discovery, if all this talk of gelfling essence was to be believed. SkekUng had his doubts about the claims of such a powerful substance being harvested from pitiful gelfling, but he couldn’t help but listen halfheartedly to the ongoing conversation.

As he did, SkekUng busied himself gnawing at a roasted landstrider shank, taking the time to dip it in the rich liqueur coating his plate. For as much as an independent lifestyle had suited him, SkekUng had missed skekAyuk’s feasts. Fat and unpleasant as the Gourmand was, he knew how to cook.

Despite the attempt at throwing skekEkt a lighthearted dinner party, the tension in the room was palpable, and only growing more thick. The subject of Rian’s treachery was weighing heavy on all the Skeksis, but more than anyone else, the General and Chamberlain were ready to strangle one another. As far as skekUng was concerned, the two of them could go through with it. No loss either way.

Sure enough, it was skekVar who landed the first blow. “This is all the Chamberlain’s fault!” he said.

SkekSil gave a whimper before looking up to meet skekVar’s hard glare.

“It’s because of you!” the General continued, snarling his words. “Our secrets roam the countryside in the mind of a renegade! Waiting to destroy us!”

“I have turned all the gelfling against Rian!” skekSil retorted. “They believe his mind is infected! Even his own father hunts him!”

SkekVar only scoffed at that. All around him, the Skeksis were growing restless as they were drawn into the conflict, each deciding whose side they were on and enjoying the potential for bloodshed.

“Is good thing we are not all so weak as to be scared of single gelfling, yes?” skekSil said, managing to hold back a smirk on his face, but not in his voice.

SkekVar slammed his fists against the long table, sending a rattle through the plates and cutlery. “You question my bravery?!

“Keep your robes on, spithead!”

Almost every Skeksis at the table rasped out laughs as the two of them stood and marched towards one another, ready to argue face-to-face.

“Incompetent smip!” SkekVar’s shouting echoed through the dining hall. “You only dare flap your beak because you sit at the Emperor’s side!”

“How exciting!” skekEkt called out, as both he and skekOk watched with keen interest.

SkekUng found himself strangely uninterested in the petty argument. Instead, as he looked past the skekEkt and skekOk, he found that skekZok seemed to have his attention placed on the Emperor. SkekUng couldn’t see much, not with the two in his way, but something was definitely keeping skekSo’s attention from the squabble.

“Let us see if your talons are half as fearsome as your tongue!”

“I bring order!” skekSil drew himself up to match skekVar, squawking no doubt hurting his throat. “Peace!”

The spectators were beside themselves now, bouncing in their seats and pounding on the table, food forgotten by all except skekAyuk.

“There’s going to be a fight!” skekEkt laughed.

“A meal and a show!” skekAyuk agreed, with his own wheezing chuckle.

That made skekZok’s head turn but only for an instant. Even as skekOk drummed on the table, joining in on the chorus, SkekUng leaned forward to get a better look at skekSo. Something wasn’t right.

“You! You are reckless!” skekSil said. “Lead us into war!”

“I welcome war!”

“Because you are too thick-headed to use brain!”

The Emperor’s jaw worked as they traded insults, but there was nothing in his mouth. He was picking at one of his talons as something dripped onto his food. Something lightly colored and viscous like one of the Gourmand’s sauces.

Whatever it might have been, it seemed to break the Emperor’s patience.

“Enough!” SkekSo’s authoritative voice broke in before the fight could progress. “Enough! The General is right. I need results, not talk.”

“But- Emperor, my sire-”

“Be silent,” skekSo said. “Or I will silence you.”

“But- but why? I did not start fight,” skekSil continued, despite the threat.

“You talk too much. Talk, talk, talk, talk!” skekSo spat. “We rot while you chatter!”

SkekUng wondered briefly at what the Emperor had meant by “rot”. None of them were as young as they’d once been, but skekUng could hardly describe any of them as rotting.

“But sire, my plan, it’s working!” SkekSil was wringing his claws now. “I just need more time.”

“More time, more words, more nothing!”

“Forgive, forgive,” skekSil simpered, shrinking beneath his Emperor’s gaze.

“Forgiveness is for the feeble. I need a new counsel, a counsel who knows how to wield power!” skekSo said before turning to skekVar. “General, you will take Chamberlain’s place.”

As satisfying as it was to see skekSil be put in his place by skekSo at last, skekUng couldn’t help a sneer as skekVar was selected instead. SkekSil was a slimy good-for-nothing, but he wasn’t wrong about the General’s stupidity.

“I am honored,” skekVar said, taking a bow.

“No,” skekSo said, allowing a weighty pause. “You are commanded. Do what the Chamberlain has failed to do. Bring this crisis to a swift end.”

“As you command,” skekVar rumbled deep in his throat, satisfaction clear.

SkekUng huffed. Before the renegades were quashed, skekSil was likely to have usurped his rival once more. Stupid General.

“Wait! Sire! You can’t!” skekSil cried in a panic, before he turned to skekVar in a rage. “Look what have done!”

SkekSil lunged towards skekVar, as though he might pounce, but it was short-lived.

With a single swipe of his talons, the General knocked skekSil over, and he fell backward. SkekUng’s heart skipped a bit, but not for excitement as he would have expected. No, this was something else. The sound of the hit echoed in skekUng’s mind and the gristly rib he’d been chewing fell from his beak. Something about it changed SkekUng. Some switch flipped in his head like on one of the Scientist’s devices.

SkekSil squirmed on the floor as he tried to stand, like a nebrie flipped onto its back.

“That’s enough from you, weakling,” skekVar said, calmer than he had been, controlled.

Yet, despite the more even tone, skekUng found himself bristling, the spines that ran down his back standing to attention.

“How dare you!” skekSil squawked.

He hadn’t thought twice about letting the two of them sling poisonous words at one another, but hearing skekSil’s pained shrieking...

He pushed himself to his feet, sending his chair scraped backward. SkekUng paid it no mind, and never once took his eyes off of the General.

As he charged towards his target, SkekUng reached deep into his lungs before letting out his war cry: “SkekVar!”

For an instant, the entire room was silent, the General included. SkekVar seemed too stunned to fight skekUng immediately. His beak hung ajar as words and talons failed him. It gave skekUng more than enough leeway to grab and shove him back, off of SkekSil’s hand. SkekUng didn’t once pay a glance the Chamberlain’s way.

“You mangy coward!” skekUng snarled. “You talk of bravery, but you pick your fight with someone as weak and spineless as the Chamberlain?!”

SkekVar’s eyes narrowed, and, though he stood his ground, he didn’t lean forward to meet the challenge. “I am the Emperor’s counsel, and you would be wise to watch your tongue, Warrior!”

“Your sire wants strength! What sort of strength does it show to crush a crawly beneath your feet?!”

“If you intend to take the Chamberlain’s place beneath my feet, then so be it!”

“Why don’t you try?” skekUng challenged, sneering his disgust. “You flap your beak as much as he does!”

Finally, skekVar had had enough. He struck skekUng just as he had skekSil, but skekUng took the blow without hardly a flinch. With a roar, skekUng lunged out to grab his foe, only for skekVar to mirror his movement. In an instant, the two of them had locked talons.

The laughter at the long table had since returned, with even more excitement this time.

“A real fight, excellent!”

“About time!”

SkekUng wasn’t paying attention to who was speaking anymore; his mind was entirely on skekVar as they pushed and shoved and twisted each other’s wrists in an attempt to knock one another to the floor. Their weights were even, they both were among the fittest of the Skeksis, and they could have kept themselves firmly planted in a standing position for a very long time. But this game wasn’t about endurance; it was about risk, about using that weight to either seize moments of weakness or fake one another out. It was about keeping skekUng’s opponent guessing while he made all the right predictions. And, as with most things Skeksis, it was sometimes about playing dirty.

The two of the made tight circles around the dining hall, in something that might have resembled a dance if not for the snapping and snarling.

In the background, it seemed that sides were being taken, and skekUng seemed to be the unpopular choice.

“Tear his throat out, General!”

“Punish the insolent Warrior!”

“For the Emperor!”

With neither skekNa nor skekTek present, skekUng was without support, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered here was his own strength, and he would prove it to all of them.

Still, skekVar wouldn’t allow that without a decent fight. Hard as either of them seemed to try, neither would falter for long enough to end the duel. Their strength was near even, their wills unbreaking. It seemed that the deciding factor would be endurance. Unless, of course...

“General!” came skekSo’s sharp command. “You keep me waiting!”

For a split second, skekVar’s focus was broken as he glanced away. A perfect window of opportunity. With one last roar, skekUng kicked out towards where he knew skekVar’s knees were placed before twisting his arms at the same time. SkekVar yelped before finding himself toppling sideways and onto the ground, solidifying skekUng’s victory.

SkekUng held his head high as he regarded skekVar from above, but he didn’t step on the General’s hand or other such gloating. He had some sense of honor.

SkekVar squirmed as he untangled his limbs, just as pathetic as the Chamberlain had been. He sent a nasty glare up towards skekUng.

“You- filthy cheater!”

“There’s no cheating in war, General,” skekUng said, curling his lip. “Just who lives and dies.”

SkekVar’s beak hung open as he searched for words. All the while, their eyes burned into one another, neither of them wanting to be the one to break eye contact. Bidden to the Emperor as he was, it was skekVar who ultimately submitted, pushing himself to his feet and turning from skekUng to hurry after skekSo.

The other Skeksis had become eerily silent, no doubt as they realized that their wager against the Warrior had been unwise. SkekUng regarded them with bared teeth, but was silent. None of them would have put up half the fight that skekVar had.

SkekUng grunted once more before he turned and exited the chamber. His appetite was long-gone.

Though he was done with dinner, skekUng didn’t retire to his chambers immediately. Instead, he found himself wandering about the castle, contemplating his victory and all the words that had been exchanged.

We rot while you chatter! skekSo’s words echoed in his mind. He wouldn’t have shunned skekSil if matters weren’t dire, wouldn’t have been so brash. The only thing that could make skekSo be so hasty was a threat to his rule, and a threat to skekSo’s rule was an opportunity as much as it was a threat to the Skeksis rule as a whole.

“Mmmmmm,” came that familiar sound, breaking skekUng out of his thoughts.

SkekUng turned and found skekSil, just around the bend on the path he’d been taking. Just what he needed.

“I hate your whimper,” skekUng snarled, a familiar phrase to his beak.

SkekSil whimpered no more, but his smile remained, perplexing and annoying. “I only wanted to thank you, good Warrior.”

“Save your words,” SkekUng bit back at him, already pushing past the Chamberlain on his continued crusade to nowhere in particular.

Unfortunately for him, skekSil insisted on following him.

“You protected me from most grievous harm,” skekSil continued, as though he hadn’t heard. “A noble act for a noble Skeksis.”

Despite his better sense, pride washed over skekUng. He was quite noble, but he knew better than to take skekSil at face value. “I want no part of your games.”

“No games, Warrior, simply politics.”

“Then I want no part in your political games.”

SkekSil clicked his beak, his annoyance palpable. “You and the General, such literal minds, both of you. Surprising that you took my side, not his.”

“I am not on your side!” skekUng bellowed, turning to face skekSil. “We are not allies, and I’ll fight you like I fought skekVar if you have any doubts!”

SkekSil hissed, but it wasn’t aggressive. Instead, it was merely a hushing whisper.

“Keep voice down. Bad enough we talk out in the halls where voices carry.”

The Chamberlain was right about that much. SkekUng didn’t care to have gossip about the two of them being heard talking together.

“If you have something to say, then say it,” skekUng growled deep in his throat. “Don’t waste my time.”

SkekSil finally ceased his smiling, but followed with another whimper, lower and more contemplative. “You challenge the General, yes?”

SkekUng could only scoff. “He wanted a fight, so I fought. His only mistake was challenging a pathetic worm with a real Skeksis present.”

“Real Skeksis you are, of course, much stronger than whimpering Chamberlain.” SkekSil allowed no time to reply before he leaned in to continue in a hushed tone, “Difficult tidings ahead. All Skeksis need friends.”

“We will never be friends, skekSil,” skekUng said, shaking his head as he turned to take his leave.

“Allies!” skekSil corrected himself, moving to block skekUng’s way. “Temporary only, but allies we could still be. A strong alliance, clever words and brute strength, yes? Annoying General could be- neutralized. You take his place, no more stupid fights, focus on extracting essence.”

SkekUng only scoffed. “I’ve seen none of this “essence”.”

“You could. Scientist and I have an- arrangement. Could offer a small sample, only for you.”

“You and skekTek?” SkekUng let out a guffaw. “Whatever you’ve stolen away, I’d wager it’s some concoction of nebrie milk and ground windsifter wings.”

“Your suspicion is wise, yes, yes, but not needed. Essence is no trick, else the royal sire might not be so- dour. Cruel to myself.”

Slimy as skekSil was, he wasn’t wrong. SkekSo was normally far more amicable to skekSil’s sneaky, underhanded tactics.

Still, it would have been a mistake to allow skekSil to sink his hooks in.

“I’m not your sword,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, no, not mine, you’re your own Skeksis, of course. Would never want to force you. Only asking for help against stupid General.”

SkekUng was silent at that. Despite himself, he had to admit that skekSil was making sense for a change. And it seemed that skekSil was very much aware of that as his smile returned.

“You think on it, yes?” he said, stepping out of skekUng’s way. “Get good night’s rest, clearer head in the morning.”

SkekUng couldn’t imagine that his head would be any clearer then than it was at that second. He knew skekSil’s ploy, he knew that he was likely being used, and yet it had the makings of a deal with plenty of opportunity for his own benefit.

It seemed that skekSil had said all he’d wanted to say as he turned and made his way off. SkekUng did the same, intending to finally retire to his quarters. Before either of them could get far, however, skekSil spoke up once more.

“SkekUng.”

The utterance of his name was enough to make skekUng turn and face skekSil one last time. SkekSil looked back at him, smiling, but different, not quite the same devious smirk that everyone in the castle was familiar with.

“Forgot how not unpleasant it is to look at you while you were gone. Skeksis often very ugly, especially stinking General, but not you,” skekSil said, a strange kind of glow in his beady eyes. “Welcome back home.”

SkekUng gave a grunt of sheer confusion. It was such an odd statement that, before he could so much as start to formulate a reply, skekSil had already turned and started to wander off. The last skekUng heard from him was one final whimper. A whimper that was full of- satisfaction? It was close to impossible to read.

But then, if they were to be allies, interpreting those Thra-forsaken whimpers might just save both their hides from the wrath of the other Skeksis.

SkekUng refused to turn his back to skekSil until he disappeared entirely. Off to sink his hooks into some other poor soul, no doubt. Damn that skekSil. He already had skekUng thinking in exactly the terms that suited him. With one final spit of disgust at himself as much as the Chamberlain, skekUng turned and strutted to his chambers. He’d had more than enough intrigue for one day.