Chapter Text
Skizz takes him back to the bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed before pulling up a chair for himself. Scott digs his fingers into the soft blankets under him, easing some of his tension. He watches as Skizz lights the candle once again. It flickers lonely in the darkness.
Skizz sits down with a heavy sigh, turning to look at the tiny flame. He looks older now than he had before.
“This place,” Skizz starts with a vague gesture at the room, “is a prison.”
Scott keeps his expression carefully neutral.
“I got sent here when I wasn’t much older than you are now, a good fourteen years ago,” Skizz continues. This does give Scott pause. He’d known that this was a prison, of course, but to imagine being stuck here for fourteen years – for as long as he’d known Muireadhach – is impossible. Nothing but the snow drifts to keep company.
“The last few years have been… fine, I guess,” Skizz explains, sitting up a bit more, “Impulse and Tango got sent here about five years ago now, and it’s been nice to have them here.”
“So the first nine years…“ Scott starts before trailing off. Skizz turns his head a little to make eye contact, and Scott uses the opportunity to reach out, laying his hand on Skizz’s carefully.
“For the first nine years, I was alone. Just me and the guy who comes by to drop supplies every three months. There is no way out of here. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“What about horses?” Scott asks, since the building has a stables after all.
“We’re not allowed to have horses, he stables are from when this watchtower was still just that,” Skizz explains. Something heavy has settled into his eyes.
Scott reaches his other hand out carefully in the candlelight, resting it on Skizz’s cheek. He moves into it for a split second before sitting up straighter and looking away from Scott.
“Like I said earlier, we don’t exactly mind company,” Skizz says, “but I’ve told you the truth. I think you should do the same.”
It hangs between them for a moment. Skizz pulls his hand out from under Scott’s to pull the candle closer, and Scott instantly misses the warmth.
“You’re right,” Scott says, “I haven’t been honest.”
Skizz makes eye contact with him again. This time, Scott breaks it.
“I have been running. That much is as true as it gets. But I really didn’t steal the horse, she’s mine.”
It takes a moment for it to register in Skizz. Then, he sits up straight and reaches back out. His hand closes around Scott’s wrist, tighter than friendly, and Scott watches as anger begins to cross his face.
“Which one are you?” Skizz demands as he stands up. He blows out the candle in the process, leaving Scott to be dragged along in the dark. He stumbles over himself and the carpet on their way to the door.
“The younger one.” He just responds.
Skizz drags him out into the hallway and all the way to the living room, where the others are still sat around the fire. He launches Scott forward with another harsh tug on his wrist, sending him to his knees on the carpet in front of the others. Scott lands with a yelp, grabbing his now-free wrist. Skizz’s hand lands on the back of his neck instead, keeping him solidly in place.
“You want to tell them what you’ve told me?” Skizz asks, tightening his grip on Scott’s neck a little.
“I-“ he catches his breath a little, “Kenna is mine,” he settles on saying. It registers to Etho immediately. He sits down on the couch in front of Scott, putting his hand under Scott’s chin to force him to look up at him.
“Did she send you?” Etho asks. Scott shakes his head as best he can. Skizz’s hand has crept round a bit, cutting off his airflow.
“She doesn’t know,” Scott wheezes out, he hesitates for a moment before continuing, “You have another son.”
Skizz’s free hand grips into his hear, and Scott gasps desperately as his head is yanked further back.
“Thanks for the update. Now, do you want to tell us what you’re actually doing here?” Skizz demands venomously. “Want to tell us why our dear Empress sent you here?”
“She didn’t!” Scott wheezes out, hands instinctually coming up to try and claw at Skizz’s – to no avail, “I’m missing.”
“So, what, someone kidnapped you and left you here to die?” Tango asks from by the fireplace. Impulse laughs a little at the notion. Scott’s lightheaded, twisting and turning in Skizz’s grip as it only tightens on his throat and hair.
“I came here for you.” Scott manages to get out. Skizz grips him harder as he forces Scott’s head back far enough to look in his eyes.
“For me?” Skizz asks incredulously. Scott tries to shake his head, both to say no and in an effort to dispel the black spots from his sight. He holds up a shaking hand instead, raising four fingers.
“Skizz,” Impulse says from the corner, “let him speak.”
Skizz’s hands tighten one more time before letting go, sending Scott forward. He barely catches himself on his hands, wheezing as air rushes back into his lungs and blood back into his brain. The light-headedness is far from gone.
“I’m here for all four of you,” Scott manages to get out between coughing fits, “I want to hire you guys.”
“Us?” Tango asks, “Why?”
“What for?” Impulse asks instead.
“I need-“ Scott breaks off into another wheeze, “I need a personal guard.”
Behind him, Skizz laughs bitterly.
“Just like your mother, aren’t you? Trying to get us to be loyal to the empire.”
“No!” Scott interrupts him, “No loyalty to the empire, or my parents, or my brother. You don’t even really have to be loyal to me.”
“Sounds like a bad recipe for a guard team.” Etho pipes up from the couch.
“You didn’t know him,” Scott gasps out desperately, “You didn’t know Muir.”
It’s quiet for a moment.
“Is that the boy Cleo had so much trouble with?” Etho asks with a frown. Scott turns his head to face him, nodding carefully. Etho hums for a moment.
“Go pack your bags, Smajor. We’ll tell you what we decide. Either way, you’re leaving in the morning.” Etho says with a finality. Skizz bristles behind Scott, but Etho shoots him a look he seems to be inclined to listen to. Scott scrambles his way out of the living room.
Almost an hour later, Scott has rearranged his packs to be travel-ready. The candle on the table in the corner has long since burned out, so Scott has been sat in the dark on the floor. Finally, the door creaks open.
Etho closes the door behind himself when he enters. He wordlessly pulls the chair over to where Scott is sat, sitting in it himself. Scott cranes his neck up to look at him in the dim light.
“Tomorrow, Skizz is going to take Kenna to the nearest town. You are going to give him enough money for four more horses,” Etho says. Scott just nods. “If you’re serious about hiring us, it’s not me you need to convince. You do realize that, right?” Scott nods again.
Etho lets out a deep sigh before leaning on his knees, bringing himself down closer to Scott’s level.
“How is she?”
Scott chews on his lip for a moment.
“She’s in the Crystal Cliffs.”
The next day, Skizz leaves with Kenna. He’s back two days later, right on the solstice, and the five of them set off for the capitol.