Chapter Text
Kira is a smart girl. Surely, when you live in the company of peaceful Podlings, it’s not surprising that sooner or later the word about your wit (mostly comprised of survival skills, some luck and partly own mental capacities) would spread around. It’s only a matter of time then when everyone you know (and don’t know but at least remember the correct name of) starts asking all kind of questions and proclaims you ‘the smart one’. And when you’re smart, you somehow get the strange sensation that the dagger, humbly hidden in the layers of one’s sleeve, is not a good sign.
In the circle formed by the Lords of the Crystal, whose large jaws clanged and rumbled, whose words, growled in a common language, sounded unfamiliar, Kira wanted nothing else but to leave. She’s never seen Skeksis before, let alone a dozen. She was never supposed to see one.
The unbearable cacophony of sounds and voices rose with every second to the point when the gelfling could have sworn it started blinding her. And then everything stopped.
The waves danced before the eyes - scarlet, blue, ocher, turquoise fabrics, they hovered over the lone figure for the split of second and swallowed her. The wavering ‘current’ carried her away from the hall, along the castle corridors, into the unknown. Kira tried to resist, to push herself into the fresh air, but silks wrapped tightly around her.
“Please let me out, I beg you, I beg you”, she cried, feeling the firm grasp of suffocation clutching the neck. The mouth opened vigorously, seeking salvation, but there was no room left in lungs - a thick, heavy fear filled them to the brim. The mind submerged in the thick layer of darkness and surfaced only when the chill dampness of the dungeon filled the nostrils. The eyes slowly adjusted to the dusk to find that it occupied room’s every last corner, to one of which the captive was dragged.
She couldn’t see the Skeksis that brought her here, neither did he break the silence to make himself known. Only while pushing her into the cell, he grumbled something below his breath – more of an expression of discontent rather than direct threat and left, slamming the bars. Kira was left alone.
When the echo of footsteps died in the distance, she grabbed ice-cold poles almost instinctively and pulled them – they trembled but endured the fierce attack. She turned around but even with her meager complexion that was no easy task. The walls hunched over and gave no freedom of action, pressuring her into the obedience from all sides. The musty air of the basement didn’t help - it was soaked through and through with dust, and if one was to sit down on the floor and put their face to it, the breath would be as abrupt and heavy as if they managed to climb to the highest point near the ceiling. However, mounting was not a viable option - no windows were to be seen in reachable radius. Digging the shaft wouldn’t help either - the cobblestone that made up the walls was rough and plastered with small dents, to which the nails would break in no time without fetching a single splinter.
She stumbled in her place, shaking violently. The Skeksis were merciful after all, everyone said that in the village. So, what if a few wandering travelers decided to pay them a visit? Breaking a taboo. Committing a blasphemy. She should have warned Jen, should have told him. She had no privilege of his blissful ignorance.
Did she not venture a lot? Hunting around the village sufficed her; it was always enough, at least for stocking up supplies. Surely, the sudden thought of moving closer to the sea, visiting yet uncovered wilds, even seeking her own kind, it did cross her mind occasionally and left as swiftly – she was always a responsible one. She had to be. Because in the end of the day, it didn’t matter how far she wanted to go as long as the loot she brought back to share could justify it.
Tears clenched the throat, but crying would mean defeat, and so far, Kira could not accept it. Stepping back, she, as far as the limited space allowed her, charged forward and immediately regretted it. Not only did the impact hurt the shoulder, but the bars shook with such intensity that the castle might as well have quaked with them. She bolted back to the shadows of the corner fearing of what’s to come and at the same time, unable to endure the uncertainty hanging over her fate any longer. Her heart craved a quick, albeit deadly, salvation. However, no one showed up. The Skeksis did not appear even after an hour, and after two – the sparse rays of the Great Sun on the floor marked the passage of time.
Hours and days could have passed - huddled in a ball, Kira was exhausted from dehydration and had difficulty thinking. The coolness of the catacombs finally overwhelmed her and clung painfully to the toes that languished with convulsions; the stomach ached, growling with disdain. From time to time she closed her eyes embracing the depths of daydreaming and woke up, unable to tell if she was asleep in the first place.
It was on one of these awakenings that a far-off voice caught her off guard. Only when it repeated “Gelfling,” she finally fell out of a slumber.
“Gelfling.”
No response.
The voice did not call for her again. Instead, the rustle staggered towards the cell growing with every step and suddenly ceased, as the shadow finally emerged on the other side. It seemed to be the Skeksis that captured them in the first place, whose lumbering body was now securely covered in many layers of refined clothing.
“Ge-e-elfling.”
Again, silence.
“Greetings. SkekSil, my name. The Chamberlain,” he remarked rather proudly but Kira paid no mind to it as she couldn’t even remotely fathom what that meant. With not much else to do he coughed awkwardly and continued. “You will come with me”.
“To kill?”
“Oh, by the Crystal, no!” his hands quivered lightly, as if the topic were such a triviality as the weather. “Oh, no, Gelfling, we have other plans. Come,” the Lord beckoned, opening the cell’s lock. “Come, come,” the hand waved again, as if that was supposed to boost her confidence.
The chamber seemed to have granted her all sorts of amusement it could, so Kira obliged.
As they walked along the hallways, her legs felt frail, shuddering constantly, which made her walk cycle resemble the one of new companion. He rushed ahead of her nimbly, although there seemed to be a slight restraint in his movement. He also tended to wiggle his head a lot, which coupled up with the previous notions, reminded her of a slithering snake.
Kira tried to take notice of the new environments, yet there were new for a reason. For, when you happen to be lost in the wilds, there are paths to find the way back. On the unknown territory she marked the trees with a pocketknife (but only so deep that it wouldn’t hurt them), the ground, moist after the rain, kept a track of anyone who was reckless enough to step into the fresh mud and the moss, that only grew on particular sides of the trees, told the directions. There happened to be a familiarity in nature, the pattern that the Thra herself lend to assist her children. But in the castle sets of landscapes kept changing and piling up with nothing to compare them with and soon became a tangled mess of alien visuals.
To think of it, Skeksis have always been kind of alien.
The Pod People from her village enjoyed a simple life, devoid of patron entities and the need to participate in foreign affairs, seeing as the location was too far removed for anyone to care. They were used to and quite satisfied with the lone existence with no frequent (but not unwelcome) intervention from any of the higher folks. Still, the Podlings cherished the ways of Thra. Therefore, the ways of the Crystal and therefore, the ways of Lords. Skeksis’ names were never glorified or let alone pronounced but Ydra made sure her daughter knew that even if the particular idol was not worshipped, it did not mean that the said idol should be stripped of a certain degree of respect. And like everyone else Kira treated their distant presence with cautious apprehension never preying nor mentioning them in vain.
The fingers ran against the folds of the dress, yet nothing hid between them. Careful glance at the floor – as expected of the Lords, not a single shard of stone and nothing to protect herself with if the situation happened to escalate.
The procession turned around a couple more corners and finally reached the grand door, passing which, they found themselves in a spacious room, divided into several segments. If Kira had been raised by a Gelfling family, she would have known for a fact that a prime counselor of the Emperor tended to read and that the ominous hulking mass that engulfed all of the shelves and most of the surfaces was his collection of books. However, her upbringing was in the hands of Podlings, who had neither written speech, nor unnecessary decorative elements, so the writings were defined for now as "things".
All kinds of sofas, various couches with ottomans, secretaries and sideboards made of most expensive woods scattered across the chamber in such a disarray that the negligence for the styling seemed almost impudent.
“Even the Elders don’t have those,” guest thought to herself.
But before all, she was struck by the bed - stately, with canopies on the top, hung with elaborate curtains. On the floor, the patterns on carpets blazed rich in color like the field of poisonous flowers, captivating, mesmerizing. The whole room, simply put, breathed with luxury.
While the girl was looking around dumbfoundedly, skekSil approached the table and, adding a couple of touches, with a satisfied sigh sank into the chair opposing her. Feeling an expectant look on herself, Kira turned around and froze.
There were about a dozen different dishes on the tablecloth - both in size and complexity. All sorts of delicacies from familiar and not so familiar products steamed on the plates, emitting clouds of pleasantly smelling dense vapor.
“Sit down, Gelfling, mmm,” he drawled. “Eat, the gelflings need to eat, yes. The Chamberlain is a friend, he will not harm, mmm.”
Squeezing the stomach before it could treacherously rumble, she followed the order.
“The food is delicious,” he smiled, chopping off a healthy piece from the baked leg of some beast. “Not poisonous! Eat!”
Skeksis definitely wanted something - why would the Lord of the Crystal offer stranger a meal in his private chambers? But no matter how much the voice of reason called for her, the food looked truly delicious and smelled so sweet that the mouth was instantly filled with viscous saliva.
With trembling hands, she took a piece of fried nebrie meat and, making more effort over the body than over the will, bit. And then again and again. Gathering up the pace, she ate like for the last time, almost forcibly pushing food into herself. Tears of pleasure deluged the senses and all the flavors of this grotesque ambrosia, saturating the food. Like a bird of prey, Kira gnawed at the food, like she would never have allowed herself before, completely oblivious to the ever wider spreading smile of skekSil.
When hunger gave way to contentment, and it was a turn for some dessert, she spoke again.
“Will you punish me?”
For a brief moment his eyes narrowed, studying her face.
“Why would a Skeksis do that?”
“Because…” she paused, looking for the right words. “Because I breached the taboo, my Lord. Podlings… and Gelflings are only mere, they do not know the ways of Thra and the Crystal. The legends sing even of one being blinded in their search for the knowledge.”
A bit of truth, some prudence and whole lot of adulation.
“But Skeksis would not hurt the lost gelfling.”
“I’m not… familiar with the ways of the Lords.”
While she spoke, her gaze wandered across the table, noticing the intricate cutlery. Small but quite sharp. SkekSil, apparently, was perfectly aware of her intentions and at the same time behaved suspiciously serene.
“The Skeksis guard the Crystal and the Thra. Beyond petty squabbling. But not beyond friends, Skeksis value friendship.”
Something in the way he expressed himself seemed disingenuous and the warmth of the smile could not distract from the detachment that the greens of his eyes glimmered with. Hopefully, just a reflection of the table silver.
“Skeksis will not punish gelfling. Oh no, the contrary. Will show her the way. Will guide her. Will make her Al Maudra.”
Kira didn’t know the meaning of the title, but the reverence with which he purred the word, she, to her shame, quite adored.
“Al-Maudra?”
He eyed her again. No astonishment in his stare, only meticulous calculation. Obligatory smile.
“Well, of course. Al Maudra. The ruler of all. The great honor.”
“Like the Skeksis?”
“Oh no! The Skeksis are the Lords of the Crystal and the Thra. They are above all. But Maudra cares for all, she helps!”
“And serves Skeksis?”
“All on Thra serves the Crystal, the Skeksis are its will. Gelflings have always obeyed the Crystal.”
Seeing the seeds of doubts still growing in her stance, he continued.
“Of course, the gelfling can say no. Can fly home.” her wings twitched in unease. “The palace, plenty of food, adoration - it's not for her. No hunger or disease. No fear.”
Her gaze has now long turned from the cutlery to the feet –small, dirty from swamp soil, bare. Cold.
“Why would you do this?”
“Because to mercy there is a price of devotion. And Skeksis are merciful.”