#the scroll-keeper

It had been ages of you getting bounced between several different libraries in Thra. Of course, it was decidedly rare for a gelfling to be literate. Even more so that they’d express an interest in bookkeeping.

What can you say? You find solace in the long neglected pages. Worlds unfolding like paper-art, dragging you through places you’ll never experience. Oh how wonderful it was.

That evening, you were alarmed by a loud bang in the distant main hall. It was just you, as there was a festival in the morning. One that you frankly had little care to attend.

You rush as quickly as your feet allow, skidding to a halt when you see it. A large, shaking heap of rotting fabric. The wheezing clues you in to the fact that it’s hiding something more. Carefully, you’d announce your presence.

“Hello? The library is closed- oh my…”

It was one of the Lords. Not just any, in fact. This was the name-sake of your establishment. Lord skekOk, the Scroll-Keeper.

They start to rise with a shudder. You don’t know what to do, but you quickly offer a hand. “You look hurt, my Lord. Please, don’t move too much.”

There comes a rusty chuckle, like a bitter shriek of a long neglected hinge. “Ah, it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before, gelfling. Simply bruised ribs.”

You found that slightly difficult to believe, but you weren’t willing to question a Skeksis. “Let me find you a chair, my Lord.”

You trot off, unwilling to hear any argument. Judging by the fact you only hear strained breaths, they’re not interested in making one.

The only one suitable is heavy, but you manage to haul it over, used to the numerous over burdened book-carts. Once you bring it close, you offer the Scroll-Keeper assistance again. “Here, sire. Let’s get you settled.”

It’s like wrangling a Landstrider calf. All awkward limbs and slippery skin. But the two of you manage, with your guest groaning as they slid into a more comfortable position.

“Shall I prepare ta , my Lord? It’s terribly chilly out there.”

They nod, adjusting one of their many pairs of spectacles. “Without delay, gelfling.”

As you rush to get the kettle brewing, you can’t help fretting. Of course, the Lords were immortal. You aren’t sure why you’re so unsettled by this. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d never witnessed one laid low by injury. Mind you, this certainly seemed mild…but still.

You’re rattled from your spiral when the pot whistles. You take the mesh, filling it with leaves before setting it into the water. The tray is arranged, laden with what you’d observed as favorites during ceremonies and Tithing.

Fruits and nuts, small dishes of cream and honey. Toasted slices of bread and crackers. You quickly return, praying your Lord was fine.

“Ah, there you are.” They replied, looking far better over the short absence. “I was beginning to think you’d gone and abandoned me.”

“Oh no, my Lord. I would never-”

They snickered, motioning you over. “I’m well aware, gelfling. Merely teasing. My, my, my!” They plucked a succulent berry from the spread, admiring it.

“Trying to impress me?”

For some reason you don’t understand, your face flushes. The tips of your ears bloomed with pink. “I- uh, I don’t-”

“Teasing, gelfling.” They smirked, popping the morsel into their bill before humming with enjoyment. “The ta ?”

Oh! Right, yes. “Right away, my Lord.” You pour it into the nicest ta set you could find, regrettably chipped.

They’d study the cup, curious. “A bit shabby, don’t you think?”

Of course the Scroll-Keeper would notice. “Forgive me, my Lord. Our funding isn’t what it once was. I’d prefer to fund our collection, rather than my personal dishware.”

“Are you the one in charge of this?” They gestured at the many volumes that surrounded them. “Quaint selection?”

“Only since last trine, my Lord.” You confirmed. “But I’ve worked over the past twenty at four different institutions. I know this is rather paltry-”

“Nonsense. All libraries are a gift.” They cut you off, holding the cup out for more. They observe the main room as you pour, nodding quietly. “I’ve heard good things about your work.”

Your eyes go wide, and it’s a miracle you don’t spill. The tip of your tail flickers. “M-Me?”

There’s something secretive in their expression. Some clever amusement, like they know something you don’t. “Yes, you. You’ve made a mark on one of my more…rough buildings. Quite a feat, to impress my servants. They’re not known for being the most…understanding.”

Oh you could die right now. You were being praised by the greatest gelflings in your line of work. “I am honored by their kindness, my-”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. You proved yourself. They simply reported your skill.” They set their cup down, using claws to retrieve their snacks. “Kindness implies you didn’t earn it, yes?”

“I see.” You nodded, unused to the praise, indirect as it may be. “I am still grateful for their assessment.”

“Good.” skekOk hummed, mouth full. They swallow, cloudy eyes on you the whole time. “Are you not interested in the festival tomorrow, gelfling?”

“Ah, no my Lord.” You shake your head, setting about cleaning the ta set. “My work here is far more important. Besides that, I’m not really one for parties.”

“Perhaps I could keep you company.” Their offer shocked you. The Scroll-Keeper, your Patron, was going to spend such a long period of time with you? Maybe you were hallucinating. “Or you me.”

You were starting to enjoy the sound of that rough chuckle. “If it is your will, my Lord.”

They reach out. A surprisingly strong hand wrapping around your thin wrist. They pull you to their side, stroking a bony finger along your cheek. “It is. Now, fetch your oldest book. I wish to assess its condition.”

“Yes, my Lord.” You know exactly which tome to gather. You also bring a prop cushion, not wanting to strain its spine.

You and skekOk spend hours with each other. Ignoring the sounds of the festival, too engrossed in your own world. As the Three Brothers cast long shadows, you grow more and more comfortable with the Skeksis. Soon enough, they have you leaning against them to get a better look at each novel.

It’s not until their talons curl around your hip that you snap to attention. You must have jumped, because they released you.

“Too far, gelfling?” skekOk asked.

“Too-...” Oh…oh! “Uh, it’s not…that, my Lord.”

They nod for you to elaborate.

“I’m not exactly used to having contact with others.” Oh how pink your ears must have been. “I…I didn’t mind it.”

The Scroll-Keeper smirked, beckoning you over. You obey, head bowed shyly.

A claw lifts your gaze to meet theirs. “Would you be interested in working for me, gelfling?”

W-..working?

“Directly, that is. You see, I’m in need of a new assistant.” Their hand traces along the line of your jaw, finding its way into your hair. “My current one is nearing her end. You suit my needs rather nicely.”

Every childling once dreamt of working in the Castle. You were no different…and yet?

“I…I would like that, my Lord.” You struggle to find the words. Like a steel pebble lodged in your throat. “But I have a duty to this library. They have no other certified keeper.”

While their talons tighten against your scalp, after a moment the Skeksis relaxes. Voice even as they observe, “You’re rather responsible, aren’t you.”

“I meant no offense…”

“And I took none.” skekOk’s gaze softened. They suddenly pick you up, as though you weighed nothing. They settled you in their lap, studying you like some precious stone. “If I found another to take over, would you?”

You need no clarification for that. They were bent on this…rather flattering, if you were being honest. You nod, unsure if you could trust your voice.

That pleases the Lord greatly. They grin, running a thumb over your lower lip. “Consider it done. I expect great things from you, my assistant.”