This idea just wouldn't leave. It's one of the (insert number here)-times-(insert characters here)-(insert event here)-and-one-time-they-did-not things.
I decided to do it on the various scars skekLa and skekTah had. And they have a lot, and not just physical ones...
I actually might do a side piece regarding that last bit with the stars. Got a silly but brief thing in mind for Schosi and skekHak.
skekLa belongs to SkekLa, skekFer belongs to FeruFeru, skekKel belongs to SkekKel, and Schosi belongs to DarthSchosi. They're all on DA and all are awesome, so go check them out!
Scars
Every scar carries a story. Some tale of brave battle or a minor scuffle. Be it embarrassing or impressive, it does not negate the origin of such marks.
To tell these stories show trust or pride. What these are, you decide.
.o.o.o.o.
"Why do you limp, anyways?"
"H-huh?" skekLa yelped, nearly dropping her books.
She hadn't heard the Schemer awaken or rise from his corner. The Illustrator had been so certain that she had been silent so as not to awaken him, yet awake he now was. She dug back through her actions, trying to discern what she may have done to wake him up.
"skekLa?"
"Huh? Yes, Lord skekTah?" she asked, dismissing the thoughts. It was too late to lament at this minor failure.
"I asked you a question."
"You did?"
"I did. Why do you limp?"
"O-oh… That…"
skekLa put the books down and shuffled awkwardly, her skirts shifting to cover her feet. Lord skekTah had never mentioned her limp before, so she had safely assumed that he either did not notice or did not care. Yet now, three weeks into his stay, he brought it up.
Then again, maybe she should've expected this. After all, her limp was rather obvious. Her lagging step, her hunching shuffle, made it very clear that her walking style was being interrupted. The observant Schemer had probably seen it from the start but had not thought about it until now.
But why?
"Why do you ask, Lord skekTah?" skekLa questioned, skimming over a few illustrations that now required color.
"Curiosity," skekTah replied. "You don't need to answer if you don't wish to."
"…No, it's fine. I just…" skekLa sighed, turning to face him. "It's an old injury. I got it during the division."
"The division?" skekTah asked, interest piqued.
"I got in the Emperor's way, just before everyone gained sense. He struck me on my thigh. We didn't have robes or anything, so I had no defense," the Illustrator explained, a hand resting atop the thigh in question. "It never fully healed. I've been limping ever since."
"It's gotten worse with age, no doubt," skekTah guessed.
"Well, I can't really run anymore. But I used to be able to. Now…"
skekTah sighed, looking away. Then he shifted, trying to reach behind his shoulders. He fumbled for a moment before skekLa questioned him.
"Help me get my carapace off, if you could," he requested.
She quickly found the clamps beneath his shoulder armor, popping them open and lifting his carapace. skekTah had taught her how to do it now. Though thick, the carapace was lightweight. It was unhooking the back brace that was troublesome but skekLa's nimble hands made short work of the hooks. Once the carapace was removed, the robes were carefully peeled from his shoulders to hang at his waist. The Schemer then turned his back to her.
"Lord skekTah?"
"See anything interesting?" skekTah asked.
"Well…" skekLa moved closer, scanning over the expanse of his bony back. "Obviously, your back brace, Lord skekTah."
"Besides my back brace."
"Hmmmmm."
skekLa squinted, scanning over the gray skin. She could see his ribs and shoulder bones clearly accented through his sagging flesh, the obvious signs of old age. The back brace, a long thing made of two lengths of light gray material lined with black metal wire and ending in triangular parts, all bolted to his back in a manner that tugged uncomfortably at skekTah's loose skin, covered up the entirely of his spine. It was difficult to see around it.
"Lord skekTah, what am I look…ing…for…?"
Her words died as her blue eyes alit on something. She moved to her left, letting the light cover the expanse of her guest's back. No longer needing to squint, she felt silly. It was so obvious now what she had been tasked to find.
To the back brace's left, cutting across his back at a downward angle from his left shoulder blade toward his right ribs, crossing under the back brace in their journey, were a set of scars, bright white against his ashy flesh. Three were long and looked to have been deep before they healed. The fourth, likely made by a thumb claw, cut down the length of his spine and was barely visible between the gaps in the back brace.
"Oh, Lord skekTah! What—"
"These are my scars from the division."
skekLa froze, Her talons, moving with a life of their own, lightly traced what she could touch of the scars. Like her own, they looked warped and ancient from so many hundred trine. These had not fully healed either.
"I don't know who gave them to me," skekTah admitted. "It was not skekHak and I doubt it was the Emperor. skekYi was already dead by then, so everyone else is a possible suspect. Even my own allies could've done this."
"You don't know?" skekLa asked, confused.
"skekHak was knocked unconscious. skekYi had combusted into flame and ash in front of me. I panicked, screamed…and that set the rest off. They attacked the urRu without a second thought. Someone must've struck urTao, my counterpart. skekTek recognized that we were connected and stopped us. Then the Emperor cracked the crystal and the urRu left after that. skekTek fixed our wounds…but he didn't have any of the medicines and treatments that he does now, so most of the scars that we received that day never really healed correctly."
"I'm so sorry."
"What for?" skekTah asked, carefully pulling his robes back up over his shoulders and back. "You didn't cause these. I don't know who did. Not sure I care either. It's too late to complain about it now."
"But don't you wonder?" skekLa asked, helping him put his carapace on.
"At times, yes," the Schemer admitted. "But it could change my opinion on someone in the court. I don't want it to be anyone in my alliance. So perhaps ignorance is bliss, in this case. Putting a name and face to that invisible pain won't take it away. Those are scars I will bear forever, skekLa."
skekLa stepped back, wringing her hands. Seeing those scars made her feel less pain in her own, if only in her mind. She and the Schemer bore much in common in terms of history…yet they were so impossibly different.
skekTah turned his beak to the small window. Sunlight poured in, bright and warm.
"It's approaching past noon. You'd best leave for the noon meal, skekLa, before the Chamberlain comes to fetch you," he advised.
"Oh! Right," skekLa nodded, quickly arranging her worktables so that she could jump straight to coloring when she returned.
skekTah headed back to his corner, slowly sinking down to sit back against the wall. It puzzled the Illustrator. She had told him more than once that he could sit at the table or on her bed, yet he persistently went to the floor each time. Surely it was uncomfortable to get in and out of such a position, especially with the Schemer's back the way it was. Yet skekTah never complained of the effort.
A soft knock at the door warned of a slave, likely sent by the Gourmand to summon everyone for the meal. skekLa sent it away and moved out into the hall. She paused, turning to look back at the Schemer.
"Lord skekTah?"
"Nnn?" skekTah looked up at her. "What?"
"…Thank you. For telling me about your scars." She smiled.
skekTah blinked, confused. "…No problem. Now get going."
So skekLa did.
.o.o.o.o.
"You're getting much better, Lord skekTah! I told you that you could do it!"
skekTah couldn't help it. His face flushed in embarrassment. skekLa was stooped over him, admiring the sketch he had done. The Schemer decided to practice copying a drawing on skekLa's wall, choosing the Chamberlain because of his simplistic robes and shapes. Apparently drawing rough shapes before adding detail was a good way to get the drawing to look right.
And it certainly looked right. Unlike his first attempt, one could actually identify the Skeksis being depicted.
skekLa smiled, making that strange cooing sound she was prone to making in fits of happiness. "Oh, Lord skekTah! I'll make an artist of you yet!"
"Heh… I think you indeed are," the Schemer admitted, a small smile worming onto his beak.
Apparently art wasn't just used as an item of luxury or entertainment. From what the Illustrator told him, such works could also be used in the art of blackmail. More than once, skekLa's quick hands and eyes had captured a scene that the Chamberlain would use against the victim for various means. skekTah, finding this interesting and useful, had immediately began practicing more. How useful such a skill could be in conjunction with his already deadly words.
He paused, shaking out his right hand. His fingers had begun to ache. Holding his pencil for too long tended to do that to his old hands. He sat up, deciding to be done for today.
Hands caught his right one, stopping their movement. He jolted for a moment before realizing it was just skekLa. An apology crossed his tongue. He had probably almost knocked something over again. He really should watch where he shook his hands.
The apology barely started leaving his beak when it was abruptly swallowed, replaced by a sharp hiss. Talons were crossing the back of his right hand. Not just any spot on his right hand either.
"Where did you get these?"
skekLa's voice sounded so small. skekTah turned to look at her. Her eyes were huge, following her talons as they traced the sharp white lines that cut across the back of his hand. There was fear and sadness in those eyes, along with desperation to know.
"A punishment," skekTah replied.
skekLa withdrew, clutching her own hand close. The one with the metal talon. The Schemer recognized the Scientist's handiwork anywhere.
"What did you do to deserve such scars?" skekLa asked, bristling.
"…It was not a punishment for me," skekTah corrected. "I gained these while giving mercy to an ally who was receiving a punishment."
"Do you have them on both hands?"
skekTah lifted his left and held both hands out, backs facing her. Each bore three long white scars along the backs with a shorter fourth one cutting between his index and thumb, curling around to his palm. skekLa puffed, a half-sob escaping her.
"I received these willingly, to protect the pride of my ally," skekTah replied, lowering his hands. He eyed her finger critically. "I'm guessing yours was an intentional punishment."
"…I refused to punish a Podling that was working too slowly," the Illustrator replied, glancing at her metal-encased finger. "So the Emperor had skekNa crush my finger. I could not draw, so I had skekTek fix it."
"I'm guessing it's permanently attached?"
"Yes. It's screwed to my finger."
"As my brace is bolted to my back." skekTah chuckled darkly. "It seems the Scientist likes to make his fixes as permanent as possible."
"…Why did you do what you did? To get the scars, I mean," skekLa asked.
"…Why did you do what you did to get your finger crushed?"
skekLa looked away.
skekTah sighed. What a strange Skeksis, skekLa was. Happy, supportive, loyal, and merciful. Nobody he knew would spare a Podling from punishment.
…Perhaps that didn't mean it was wrong.
.o.o.o.o.
"Did you always have that?"
skekLa turned to look at the Schemer in confusion. "Have what?"
"On your eyebrow. That scar," skekTah asked, leaning nearer with squinted eyes. "I don't believe I ever noticed it until now."
"Well, most don't," skekLa admitted, eyeing the floor evasively. "They pay attention to my art, not me. I doubt most even know it's there."
"What happened?" skekTah asked.
"Um…" skekLa blushed, looking away. "Well…it's embarrassing…"
"Tell me this and I'll tell you something embarrassing about myself," the Schemer offered.
"…Really, Lord skekTah?"
"I promise," skekTah said.
"…Well…I saw skekUng and skekSil arguing…and decided that I would help skekSil out against him," skekLa began, looking toward the ceiling as she collected her thoughts. "I pounced on skekUng from behind in the hopes that I could drive him off…and…"
"It failed?"
"…Pretty much…" skekLa nodded.
"So skekUng gave you that?" skekTah asked, indicating her eyebrow scar.
"…Him and skekSil did," the Illustrator admitted.
"…I feel I'm missing part of this story," skekTah pointed out, not quite understanding what he'd heard.
Would skekSil, who had shown great care and loyalty toward the Illustrator, actually have the gall to strike her?
"When I hit skekUng, I didn't drive him away. I shoved him forward…into skekSil…and made them…"
"Well, obviously, they didn't kill each other," skekTah guessed.
"…Replace those L's with S's…"
skekTah thought before he stiffened, eyes widening. He looked up at skekLa, who smiled nervously. He suddenly understood.
"…Oh…"
"Yeah…" skekLa looked away sheepishly. "They both struck me after that. I got knocked out and woke up in skekTek's lab. They never told anyone why I was bleeding…and I never mentioned what I made them do…"
"Oh, the irony," skekTah muttered, a hand on his face. "I was about to tell a similar story."
"…You made skekUng and skekSil kiss too?" skekLa asked, jaw dropping.
"…Switch the roles around and you'll have my story," skekTah admitted, a blush crossing his cheeks.
"Tell me?" skekLa begged.
"Well, I promised, so…" The Schemer groaned, clearly uncomfortable. He forged on, though. "After we completed our pact with the Gelfling, we held a celebration in the castle. The Chamberlain was taunting skekUng because he refused to dance. I was eavesdropping and…ended up being forced to dance with skekUng. When we were finished, skekSil apparently wanted to see a repeat performance and shoved me into him…and we…"
"…Yes?" skekLa asked, far too curious for skekTah's liking.
"…I ended up kissing skekUng, though you can hardly call it a kiss! The tip of my beak got jammed between his front teeth. I couldn't back out and he was too shocked to let go until skekSil teased us about it!" skekTah barked, embarrassed, cheeks blazing. "Then skekUng let me go and chased the Chamberlain around for a while before he was stopped."
"You…kissed the…"
"It was not a kiss! And it certainly wasn't willing!" the Schemer huffed, arms crossed in defiance. "Be glad. I've never told anyone that since it happened. I haven't dared to."
skekLa couldn't stop herself. She laughed. At least she hadn't kissing the volatile Garthim Master!
skekTah growled, glaring at the floor. She struggled to stop, feeling bad for laughing. She wiped her eyes, trying to get herself under control.
"Oh m-my, L-Lord skekTa-hah! Wh-hah-t bad luck!"
"Bad luck indeed," skekTah replied curtly. "Let us change the subject. I thought I saw quite the provocative drawing of the Chamberlain stored in a drawer under your bed. Mind explaining?"
skekLa's laughs died. skekTah's had only just begun.
.o.o.o.o.
"So…um…"
"Spit it out," skekTah requested, looking over at her. "You've been staring at me for the last five minutes."
"Well, um… Don't take this as rude…and if I'm intruding, please tell me off…but…" skekLa wrung her hands nervously. "That back brace… How did it happen?"
"…skekTek made it, though I doubt that's what you meant," the Schemer replied. "I fell."
"…Fell?"
"Yes, I fell. That's how I broke my back."
"…From some stairs? Another floor?"
"A tree. A very tall tree. Nearly eighty feet, if I recall."
"Eighty feet?!" skekLa bristled in shock and terror. "How are you not dead?!"
"Honestly, I have no clue," skekTah replied. "But I did survive. My back had broken but my spine, miraculously, remained intact."
"Why were you in a tree?" skekLa asked.
"I was fetching an arrow for the Hunter. He's the reason that I got back to the castle and am still alive right now," the Schemer replied. "Without him, I would likely be dead… Though, without him, my back might not have been broken at all. Curious thought, that one. Oh well, too late to complain now. Either way, skekTek put together this brace in two hours and I lived. Took three months to heal and I spent the rest of the trine relearning to walk and move without much pain."
The Illustrator shuffled, looking half-scared and half-sympathetic. It was surprising to the Schemer. Nobody but his alliance had shown him sympathy when his back had broken. Nobody else in the court, aside from the panicked Scientist, had cared much for what had occurred to him. "It was his own fault," they would all say, in and out of earshot of him. It was rather annoying…and depressing, to be honest.
"It doesn't hurt much now," skekTah continued, eyes sliding closed as he rested against the wall. "I cannot afford to sleep on my back anymore. I cannot stand up very straight now. Twisting around quickly is difficult. If I'm knocked over, I cannot get up as quickly. It has caused me many issues…but I've adapted to it. I had no choice."
skekLa turned away, scrubbing tears from her eyes. Such an emotional creature, this Skeksis. It was rather frightening to the Schemer. It was almost as if she was meant to be a Gelfling, not a Skeksis.
Still, he felt compelled to comfort her. "Don't cry, skekLa. It's an old injury. Tears won't fix it."
"But I feel so bad! You've gotten hurt so much back home!" skekLa choked, eyes shiny with tears.
"And so have you," the Schemer pointed out. "We all bare our fair share of scars—physical, mental, or emotional. Whether we share them is at our discretion. We've shared with one another. Let us both be stronger for it, as skekVar would say."
"…Did he say that whole thing?"
"That whole thing," skekTah confirmed. "His words, not mine. I just quote them. They are good words, words for the heart."
skekLa smiled, wiping the last of her tears. "I'll remember them."
skekTah smiled back, relieved. "We both shall."
.o.o.o.o.
The night sky twinkled with a million stars scattered across a pitch black canvas. In the open space of the garden, one could see the night sky perfectly. It was as if someone had cut out a chunk of it and hung it over them like a blanket.
That was how skekTah felt as he and the Illustrator stood together in the dark, stargazing.
skekFer and skekKel had been with them up until a bit ago. The Gardener had grown tired and the ever-vigilant, if still very terrifying, in skekTah's opinion, Counselor had ushered her away to bed. skekTah was certain that the other would not rejoin them.
Which left him alone with the Illustrator. Not that skekTah minded. He had come to greatly enjoy skekLa's company. Though the Schemer wouldn't surprised if she lured the Chamberlain out here to stargaze with her once he had retired for bed. It was a truly beautiful night out tonight.
skekTah smiled, spotting a familiar cluster of stars overhead. He liked to pretend that there were lines between the stars and make pictures with them. Arcing high above him, in the sky's jet black and the imaginary tones of brown and orange and gold that his mind conjured, was the Machinist. Or the cluster of stars that skekTah had dubbed The Machinist.
"Why are you smiling so big for, Lord skekTah?" skekLa teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.
"Oh, just found something familiar," skekTah replied, pointing to the image he'd crafted in his head. "See that cluster of stars there? Pretend there are lines between them. Does it not look like a Skeksis to you?"
"Hmmmm. Ah! Yes, I see it!" skekLa cried. "Is that in your reality, Lord skekTah?"
"It is," skekTah nodded. "I call it The Machinist. It looks very much like him to me."
"You've spoken of him before. He died, didn't he?" skekLa asked, being careful. This was a touchy subject. That much she knew.
skekTah sighed sadly, beak lowering to point at the ground. "He did…"
skekLa frowned before staring at the sky, trying to paint lines between the stars. skekTah had made something. Maybe she could too. She concentrated, avoiding the stars that made up The Machinist…and gasped when an image bloomed in her mind.
"What is it? skekLa?" skekTah asked, interested in the shocked expression on her face.
"Schosi!"
"…Schosi?" The Schemer blinked in confusion. He'd never heard that name before. "skekLa, are yo—"
skekTah bristled instantly in alarm. Tears were falling from the Illustrator's eyes, painting wet trails down her cheeks. She sobbed thickly, burrowing her face into her sleeves, shoulders heaving with her sobs.
For in the stars above her, next to The Machinist, the stars formed the image of a spritely young Gelfling girl. Her assistant, strangled during the culling. Schosi.
An arm wrapped around her shoulders and skekLa huddled against the smaller Skeksis beside her. She tried to choke out apologies but they became too muddled on her tongue to form proper words. The Schemer shushed her, stroking her hair and holding her in what he hoped was a placating manner.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was wrong.
This Schosi, whoever they were, was someone that skekLa had likely lost in the past. Like his dear friend skekHak, Schosi had painted themself among the stars. skekLa just hadn't seen it until today.
"I… I…"
"It's okay. I understand. You don't need to explain, skekLa."
He was grateful that it was so dark out here in the garden. skekTah could do nothing but let his own tears fall amidst silent sniffs.
High above them in the night sky, he was certain he saw skekHak reach out to whoever Schosi was, both of them watching over the two Skeksis far below.