#urskek

——

Before tending to the Court dinner that evening, SkekMir floundered about in her own little room to find — and better hide — her dream journal. None of her previous entries were missing or tampered with, thankfully. Still, the thought of the Chamberlain pawing about in her things riled up her temper. Wiley and tricky as ever, the bastard.

However, where else could SkekMir hide it? The Ornamentalist loved to meddle in her drawers; the Ritual Master regularly did inspections into her overall space as well, to make sure she had no contraband; and obviously, Chamberlain knew exactly where to poke around for secrets. If there was a place to hide forbidden things, then it was not her room.

Then perhaps the Butler had to become her own secret-hider. Her dress was not made with pockets, as her apron did the job, but SkekMir had sewn in little side pockets not long ago. No one knew about them, as far as she knew, so they were her best bet. She slipped her journal into one of them and sighed in relief. Chamberlain knew about her secrets, but that didn’t mean he could prove they existed -- for now.

In the Courtroom, where the table was now arranged, SkekMir overlooked the Podlings rushing here and there to set everything perfectly. She smiled a little in pride. Her implemented routines were still working perfectly. Of course that did not mean that her work was far from over. SkekMir carefully plated and added cutlery at every seat, as well as fluffing the cushions and setting up bowls of sour water for washing up.

As usual, SkekMir had no place at the grand table. Her only place was to stand to the side and serve drink and other necessities until the Crystal Lords dismissed themselves for the evening. That also meant enduring their little pranks and jabs with a strained smile on her face.

In fact, the first thing the General did once dinner began was to make the poor skek jump and spill her jug of wine. She had begun walking away after serving the Ritual Master and he slammed a very heavy and empty bowl onto the floor right behind her. He and everyone else laughed loudly at her squeak and at how high she jumped forward.

“Ha…that was a good one, my Lord General.” SkekMir forced out. “Allow me to clean this up.”

“You need better training! When was your last trial?” The General snorted, taking another bite of his wriggling meal.

“It was with you, just this last season. I was made the Butler shortly after.” She explained evenly as she began to kneel and tidy up. The Scientist scoffed.

“Who cares if her resilience to sudden noise is less optimal than our own? All she does is serve our chambers and food anyway.”

SkekMir grumbled as she mopped up the spill in the floor with a rag. She just finished as the others laughed over his comment. A few others added their own jabs (“Let us hope a Gelfling guard does not scare her during their rounds!”) before the Emperor silenced them.

“These are all bold assertions about our loyal Butler. But what does she have to say about it?”

The Emperor, as always, sounded half-bored while managing the pettiness of his Court. SkekMir cleared her throat and stood as quickly as possible, tripping a little over her skirts as she did so and making the others smother their cackles.

“If I am weak, then it is better to acknowledge the truth than to be harmed from its ignorance.” She answered plainly and with eyes downcasted. The Collector was less than impressed.

“Bah! What a suck up.”

“Do you have a point also, Collector?” The Emporer acknowledged. She threw down her soiled doily pointed a finger at the Butler.

“I do! This pathetic skek is in our chambers, our food, our bathhouse — so why should we let her? She clearly can’t be counted on for jack squat!”

“She is fairly vulnerable, I admit.” The Scroll Keeper threw in with a smirk. SkekMir wanted to scream until the Emperor raised his hand for silence. The others did quiet down, if out of surprise.

“Then perhaps one of you will volunteer for further training?”

Dead silence. SkekMir dared to glance up and saw the others humming and hawing. What a load of hot air they could spout out. But then, the Chamberlain stood. He had been watching the exchanges carefully and only then did he choose to interject.

“Allow me, sire. Chamberlain always invested in strengthening Skeksis power. If weakest link is not strong enough, then whole chain crumbles, yes?”

The General snorted again. “You?”

“Why not Chamberlain?“

SkekMir brought up her head, flustered. “Please, my Lords, none of this is necessary! I wouldn’t wish to waste anyone’s time—“

“No, is very necessary!” Chamberlain corrected with a tone of assurance. “Butler trusted with Emperor's care, yes? Knows many things, can be harmed or captured by enemies…”

The other Skeksis gasped loudly at the possibility, not realizing that SkekMir could be weak enough to spill their Court’s most protected secrets. Secrets that could threaten their hold over Thra. Even the Emperor reacted strongly, jumping up from his seat and shaking his staff. He snorted a little from the effort, as if the strain of it was too much for his lungs.

“Enough, Chamberlain! I will not have fearmongering over our meal! But you are not wrong — our Butler is well trained, but not as strong as she needs to be. Butler!”

She rushed over to the front to curtsy again, at his seat, where he still stood. “My liege?”

“You will serve me as always, but also receive further mentorship from the Chamberlain. I expect your weakness to not only lessen, but to disappear entirely.”

Tall orders. SkekMir had no choice but to accept them.

“Yes, my Lord Emporer.”

——

Mirnah floated about in the gardens. Outwardly, she was collecting flowers for decoration and for medicine. She was careful to pick petals and leaves with specific number patterns, knowing their values would more properly heal or nourish as needed. But in her mind’s eye, she replayed the previous night spent with Sosu. She sighed with a smile and played with a chirping fly trap, purring after its meal was caught.

“Someday.” Mirnah said quietly, petting the sentient plant with her finger. Someday she could simply kiss him good morning and run his manor as a wife, not a servant. She could perhaps even travel with him, if Thra proved to be as fruitful as he expected. She continued her gardening with less whimsy than before when someone transported in.

“Mirnah! You take too long!” A voice laughed loudly.

“And you are too impatient, my Varma!” Mirnah replied with a smile. She turned to face him, her twinkling basket of goods floating just beside her. “Are you that desperate for a soup?”

“Always for your wares! Just don’t tell Ayukamaj.” Varma said. “Oh! And don’t forget the spar today! Gragoh is still convinced he can pin down Malva in under a minute. We’ll need all the numbing paste we can get for his downfall.”

Mirnah gestured to her basket, which twirled lightly in response to her acknowledgement. “All done! I suppose I should do it now. Gragoh has even less patience than you when it comes to a challenge.”

They went together towards the open air gymnasium, speaking about which herb or paste would be made first, when Silsol made his appearance.

“A moment of your time, good servant.” He asked with a playful flourish, and managed to wrangle her away from an annoyed Varma. Mirnah rose a brow.

“What now?”

Silsol’s eyes were alight with glee. “I know about Thra!”

“Well, that spread quicker than I thought. What about it?”

“You should come with us — ah ah! I know you’re denying the chance, but I know you too well! You love drooling over Sosu’s maps. Why else would you sneak in there?”

“Ugh! I do not sneak. I happen to work here. Besides, it matters little if I wish to go. Sosu is the one with the final say.”

Silsol grinned. “Who says you need his permission?”

Mirnah blinked. “You mean I should just…sneak away?”

“More like tag along, just behind us. Perhaps wait a day or so before following our path. I mean it! I hate seeing you mope about the day we leave. You’re a dear friend to us all, even to Sasan. She’d never admit it, but she adores you. Our adventures never feel complete without you.”

Jokester he could be, Silsol was no liar. And in that moment, Mirnah knew he was genuine. Still, she looked down bashfully at her floating basket of fresh flowers and leaves, eventually reaching out to hold it. Sosu was adamant about the importance of this new journey to Thra. It could give him the tools he needed to change not just their own lives, but of all Urskeks -- especially the "lesser" class of them. Mirnah had some training in their mystical arts, but even she thought her presence could complicate such an important expenditure. Was it truly worth the risk, to finally traverse the universe and see the beauty that inspired her beloved master so much?

“Sosu could be angry with me, even if the plan worked out…” Mirnah finally admitted, choosing obedience as her excuse. Silsol gave a half-grin, but though his eyes were a little sad. His tone was genuine with the years of companionship they shared.

“And I will speak on your behalf, if it gets you in trouble! Sosu can’t be angry with us for too long, can he?”

Mirnah’s heart ached for her friend, knowing he was clueless about her and Sosu’s relationship. It hurt so badly to never share it with anyone she cared about, knowing how she broke their trust every day just to hide it. She wondered what Silsol’s reaction would be, should he one day learn why Sosu was so protective over their little urskek servant. He could be temperamental when pushed and often chose the extreme when he was. No doubt he would be greatly offended that neither felt safe in sharing this development with him. Losing his friendship would hurt all involved.

“You are too kind to think of my happiness.” Mirnah said, looking up again. “I’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

Silsol’s smile grew as he said his good bye and left. She could only shake her head, and think of what she should do when she was finally alone in the manor.

——

UrNah dusted continuously and daydreamed just as much. She thought of the dreams she had of the Lovers; she wondered if her other half knew of them too; she sometimes hoped that she was not the only Urru in the world with dreams of seeing the world.

The leader of the Mystics, UrSu, was gentle but firm when he instructed her about their need to stay in the Valley, to keep away from their Skeksis counterparts.

Overtime, as she learned more from him and he grew to welcome her friendship, UrNah wondered whether he would be upset with her for nursing such sentiments still. It ached at her chest to wonder if he would turn her away with great sadness, as he had done to UrGoh, UrSan, and UrVa many a trine ago. The Maid had grown fond of her Master, more fond than she would ever dare admit, and going over the dreams of the Lovers only heightened her conflicting emotions of admiration and fear.

So much to ponder, so little she could do about it. She wiped down another trinket and sighed. Behind her, heavy footsteps plodded into the room. There was no need to turn around to see who it was, or to wait and hear his voice, for her to know him.

“Our evening meal is almost ready.” UrSu rumbled in his quiet way, walking over to the Maid. “Have you dusted to your heart’s content?”

“Now you sound like UrSol.” UrNah chuckled. She did stop dusting, however. There would always be more tomorrow. The Master placed a hand on her shoulder, and that warm feeling crept into her cheeks as he held it with surety.

“Don’t admit that to him or else he’ll write a song about it.” UrSu sighed, making UrNah chuckle again.

“Why shouldn’t he? I love when we create. I love when we sing.”

UrSu gave her a warm smile, his eyes bright, and again her cheeks warmed.

“If it pleases you, then perhaps we should sing at dinner. Come soon, UrNah.”

“Of course, Master.” UrNah answered. He smiled with a nod and left for the evening meal after that. For the brief moment that the Maid was left alone, she took a little longer than usual to put away her homemaking supplies. She withdrew her little pocket journal and a stubby pencil, writing down a note to herself to consider at a later time. UrNah’s cheeks flushed a final time.