A/N: This takes place somewhere within the last hundred years before the start of the movie. The terms and details I use are a mixture from the movie and from the novelization, so if something doesn't quite fit the movie, it's probably from the book.

The slaves were late again. The Ornamentalist skekEkt sighed impatiently and tapped his talons against the side of the large carven stone basin in which he bathed. They knew he was to have hot water brought to him every evening when the greatest sun set; after all, he'd been following the same routine for more trine than he could count. And yet recently, they'd been late with his bath more often than not.

"It must be the Slave-Master's doing," skekEkt muttered in his ear-splittingly high pitched voice as he folded his arms across his sunken chest. "Probably has them off on some trivial errand instead."

He was just about to stalk off in search of the Slave-Master to lodge a complaint, when a feeble knock sounded on the heavy door to his bedchamber.

"Come in!" skekEkt snarled in the common language, a coarser vernacular than what he used with the other Skeksis or when talking to himself. "Hurry up with water-- late!"

The group of four slaves slowly pushed open the door, then trudged in with a large cauldron of almost-boiling water among them. SkekEkt watched with satisfaction as they poured the hot water into his basin, then added an exact amount of cooler water from a tap set into the wall. If we only had some way to heat it before it comes out of the wall, I wouldn't have to go through with this, he thought as the slaves-- who had long since learned the price of leaving the water too hot or too cold for skekEkt's bath-- tested and retested the basin's contents. He was sure that skekTek could have figured out some kind of internal heater for the water if he wanted to, but apparently the Scientist had other priorities.

Finally the slaves finished with their task and slunk wordlessly out of the room. SkekEkt dipped a long, bony finger into the water and found it perfect. As soon as the slaves were gone, he bolted his door-- not that anyone had ever even tried to disturb his nightly ritual-- and began to undress.

It was the start of a long process of grooming, one which would take all of the several hours between the great sun's setting and skekEkt's bedtime. If other Skeksis besides the Emperor had been allowed to drink the viliya of the slaves, skekEkt might not have needed to spend so much time on his appearance. However, without the youth-replenishing life-force of the Podlings, he was forced to rely on more conventional means in order to remain the most beautiful of the Skeksis.

At least being better looking than they wasn't particularly hard. . . . He doubted some of them even bothered to bathe. "Especially skekAyuk," skekEkt growled squeakily as he stripped off his elegant fingerless gloves made of crushed crimson velvet and black lace. "Slovenly fool."

He tried to force thoughts of the Gourmand from his mind by concentrating on the task ahead of him instead. SkekEkt ceremoniously removed each of the several layers of clothing he wore, folding every garment carefully and laying it on its designated shelf in his armoire. When he finally reached the layer closest to his greyish-blue skin, he scowled down at it. It was almost worn out after many trine of service; the fabric of the cream-colored robe had actually become so thin in some places, he could see his skin through it.

I must finish the replacement soon, he thought as he pulled off the undergarment and laid it aside to put back on after his bath. It won't survive being washed this week.

It took less time to remove the jewelry skekEkt wore-- today only a few chains and a choker about his thin neck, and dangly baubles that served as earrings-- then he was finally ready to bathe. He stepped over the edge of the basin with each bent leg, then carefully lifted his tail in as well before he lowered himself into the deliciously hot water.

SkekEkt wiped down his wrinkled skin with a damp wash cloth and one of the bars of fragrant soap he made by rendering leftover fat from the kitchen. (The soap was a lot less popular with the other Skeksis than skekEkt would have wished.) After the perfunctory cleaning, he turned his attention to more important matters-- in particular, his hair.

He untied the ribbon that kept his bright red hair pulled up over his head, then leaned forward to dip his hair in the water. It was naturally auburn, but had faded from its original rich tones to a much more subdued shade as skekEkt aged. Now he enhanced the color with vegetable dyes that made it a vibrant red, but which required reapplying every couple of weeks. He lifted his dripping head from the water and studied the locks that fell over his eyes. It looked as if the color would hold out a few more days; skekEkt nodded in satisfaction and proceeded to wash his damp hair with the soap.

After he had finished, skekEkt reached into a bowl resting on the edge of the basin and picked up a capsule between his talons. While he broke the capsule open, oil dripped from it into the water, intended to moisturize his aging skin. He agitated the water with one hand, then looked down at its surface as it settled. The oil floated on top in tiny, glistening clumps like those in the soup skekAyuk had prepared for dinner that evening.

"Ooog!" skekEkt squealed in frustration. Apparently everything was conspiring to remind him of the Gourmand and their fight earlier that day. The cause of the argument had been trivial enough to all but skekEkt; skekAyuk had, while eating a disgusting snack of a leg of something or other, bumped into skekEkt and gotten gravy on his high, ornamental collar. Most Skeksis wouldn't have cared, but to skekEkt this was an unpardonable offense. The resulting screaming match brought several of the others running to watch the excitement. SkekAyuk, on being called a graceless, indiscriminate idiot had shaken the leg at the Ornamentalist in fury, leading to more splattering of gravy on skekEkt's clothes.

The fight might have degenerated into a physical brawl-- skekAyuk had strength and bulk over skekEkt, but the Ornamentalist had a mean set of talons-- had the Emperor not limped in and complained that the noise was interrupting his afternoon nap. That shut them up and produced much apology and bowing; the Emperor had not been in the best of health of late, and as a result his temper was none too good.

SkekEkt had stormed off to his room to clean up the damage and had refused to so much as look at skekAyuk when they reconvened at dinner. Skeksis rarely said they were sorry, except of course to the Emperor, so he didn't expect any contrition from skekAyuk, but he was hoping from some sign that he was upset. However, when he sneaked a sideways glance at the Gourmand, who sat one chair away from him at the dining table, skekAyuk seemed happily absorbed in his food. SkekEkt squeaked indignantly and returned to his own meal with renewed sullenness.

Now, as he slowly bathed his skin in the oily water, skekEkt regretted the whole incident. The gravy had washed right out with a bit of spot cleaning, so there was no damage done in that regard… only in regard to the Ornamentalist's feelings. SkekAyuk was the nearest thing he had to a friend; while the two formed a faction with the Chamberlain skekSil and the Emperor, skekEkt was somehow closest to the Gourmand. They had never spoken harshly to each other as frequently as the others did, and despite their drastic differences in taste regarding personal hygiene, they did enjoy each other's company.

I don't need his company, skekEkt tried to tell himself. I can just as well talk to skekSil if I get bored. He's much more intelligent, with much better taste. The thought wasn't very comforting, for despite their alliance he cared nothing for skekSil. Had he argued with the Chamberlain, he wouldn't have given the matter a second though. But skekAyuk. . . .

SkekEkt tried a different tack. He doesn't even care, he silently asserted while he picked up a piece of rough, porous stone and began to scrub at the skin on his heels to soften it. His only concern is his food. And that really was how it should be. Skeksis shouldn't care about each other; they shouldn't have. . . friends.

The Ornamentalist finally finished his cleansing ritual, and he stood, causing the water to cascade off his awkward, angular body in small waterfalls. He pulled out the basin's stopper to allow the water to drain into the castle's sewage system, then dried himself carefully with a towel made of the softest, most absorbent material he had available. He redressed in his worn undergarments before beginning to comb his hair in front of the huge, ornate mirror that hung on one wall of his chamber.

As was the case every evening, he was unhappy with what he saw in the mirror. SkekEkt was pleased with his appearance when he was dressed in multiple layers of elegant clothing, jewelry, and makeup. . . but without all that, he was just an aging Skeksis like the rest of them.

That will change after the conjunction, he reminded himself as he twisted locks of his hair around metal rollers and pinned them in place. When we have that power from the Crystal, we'll live forever. . . and I'll be beautiful again.

The rest of the evening was consumed as skekEkt applied various lotions and other oils to his skin, meticulously brushed each of his fangs, and repaired some chipped polish on his talons. Still, his thoughts kept returning to skekAyuk. Finally he crawled into his ornate canopy bed and curled up in the middle after extinguishing the elegant lanterns that lit his room.

Maybe I should apologize, he thought briefly before dismissing the idea. No. . . it was his fault! I shouldn't apologize for his clumsiness. . . even if he keeps ignoring me.

Then, slowly a smile spread over skekEkt's narrow beak as an idea occurred to him: maybe the problem could be easily solved if he made sure skekAyuk couldn't ignore him. If skekEkt could get the Gourmand's attention, skekAyuk might apologize of his own free will, or at least start talking to him again. SkekEkt closed his eyes resolutely and soon fell asleep, much more at ease.

To be continued