This story will get very dark, sometimes morbid. Readers are warned! In this fanfic, I make Maul awesomer, because I believe he would be such a hardcore guy and doesn't get enough credit. Super rad. Enjoy!
Lylette sat at the head of a grand table, strewn with golden table cloths and silver platters gleaming against the bright torchlight. Many beautiful faces flanked either side of the table, brightly smiling and glowing and laughing. Lylette picked up her exquisite plate and looked at her reflection. Her golden eyes gleamed brightly like the hearth behind her. The black sleek hair that cascaded on either side of her face was brushed to shine like the night sky. And newly, her lips gleamed a healthy pink. Argonian servers entered the room carrying large covered dishes, steaming anywhere there was access to the open air. The trays were placed on the table and covers removed. Lylette gasped as the most exquisite food was revealed. Horker meat strewn with vegetables, salmon steak with mountain flower marinade, honeynut treats dripping with sweet nectar, and so many more. Lylette's fork drove deep into a hunk of venison. She chewed the sweet meat so tenderly. Suddenly it turned sour. So incredibly sour, she began choking and gargling her water trying to get the taste out. Her breaths became short and quick. She grabbed her throat as beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Desperately she looked to her dinner companions. All we staring at her laughing, chuckling as if she was nude and painted with stripes. She slammed her hands down on the table and began to scream. All of her dinner mates took up their glasses and threw the contents on her, drenching her fine clothes.
Lylette woke up with a start, as something large splashed into the canal where her boat-bed was situated. She held her breath as she tried to gather the sounds of anyone swimming. Nothing. She assumed it was a chest or safe of some sort being deposited into the canal, hoping never to be seen again. Might as well check it out. Quickly she stripped down to nothing, took a deep breath, and hopped in the frigid water. Her senses became more acute as the water engulfed her. Remembering the general direction of where she heard the splash, she swam over and a brilliant golden light began spreading about the water as she used the Candlelight tome. The light finally reached the bottom. Lylette gasped and choked on the icy water that filled her lungs. She kicked for the surface and threw herself onto the dock as she coughed and choked up water. Finally she was breathing right again, and took a second to evaluate.
There was no chest, or safe, or rock lying dormant at the floor of the canal. It was Khajiit. Incredibly sliced and brutally slaughtered to the point where she could only recognize it as a Khajiit by the blood stained grey fur. Lylette's stomach heaved at the memory of red liquid floating around the nude body like an aura. What? Who? Her mind raced and insides churned as she tried to gather and answer.
Heavy footfalls echoed through the canal, and Lylette under the dock. The feet came closer and stopped right above her. She bit her tongue and willed for her heart to stop beating so loudly. And in that moment, time stood still. Eventually the mystyterious person took off and moved somewhere else. She let out a deep sigh and moved out from under the dock, only to have her neck grabbed by some beefy hand.
"Listen," the voice demanded, "you saw the Khajiit, and now you know." Lylette wanted to say something back, but her mouth was gagged and hands bound behind her back. The man had mercy to put a thin tunic on her so she wasn't nude. She glared at him with such disgust. He paced back and forth, eyeing the Breton, sizing her up. "Ah, you're Lylette, master of magic, eh?." ...Master of magic. Lylette built up a new hope as she produced a small flame in her hands. The ropes caught fire and burned her wrists. Her teeth clenched hard on the gag as her wrists begged for mercy. A tear slid down her face. "Don't cry now, I won't harm you, maybe." The man assured. The ropes were turned to ashes and her hands were free but her wrists carried the burden of it. She moaned into her gag as sweet relief flooded her wounds thanks to a healing spell she remembered.
With new confidence, she removed her gag and said sternly, "Back up. What do I know now?" Satisfaction poured over her as his expression remained shocked.
He stuttered, and replied, "Well you know I'm a killer, and I know for a fact you would have reported that dead Khajiit to the guards the next morning." He continued pacing.
"Then you don't know me." Lylette replied coolly.
The man laughed. "Of course I know who you are. I know everything about this measly city. How do you think I knew your name?" He questioned.
"Sure you knew my name but so does 90% of Riften." Lylette replied, unimpressed.
The man shook his head and got face to face to Lylette. "Lylette Swift-Flame, orphaned at age 4, lived in Honorhall until she was 15, now 20, Skooma addict, lives on a boat in the canal, steals from every stand every night, has an on and off relationship but totally physical relationship with Marcurio, and swims nude in Lake Honrich on hot nights."
Lylette stared back at him, eyes wide. Mostly because he knew of her intimate relationship with Marcurio. Also because she had that sinking feeling that he was the one who gathered the information of her not-so-modest swims in the lake. She swallowed hard and replied, "So you know me. What now?"
"It doesn't matter that I know everything about you." He said smugly, "What matters know is that you know me."
"What are you, a Dark Brotherhood assassin?" She questioned.
He bellowed and shook his head. "No, I have no affiliations with the Brotherhood. They kill anyone. I kill anyone that trifles with anyone I respect or love." He stopped for a moment. "But listen to this, I know everything, and I have ties to a few people in town. You think Maven Black-Briar is tough? I'd like to think of myself as her source."
Lylette pondered this. Her eyes jutted upward and took in his appearance. "Maul?" She questioned.
"Yes." Maul answered, "Now you know I'm more than a bodyguard." He placed a finger on the handle of his blade situated at the hip. "We have two options."
"Yes?" Lylette asked annoyed.
"Kill you." Lylette tensed, "Or have you be in my ... business." He pondered this. "I don't know if I could really trust you though... I need something more permanent, more public..." He was quiet for a moment until a smile grew on his face. "Like a wife."
If Lylette was anything, she was unforgiving. For about half an hour straight Maul begged her to heal the burns on his forearms. It would be and understatement to say she was enraged when he spoke his proposition. In the end, Lylette was the one with the blade to her neck. In the face of death she crumbled. Also, in the face of wealth she was weak. She was promised a bed in the Black-Briar Mansion. Anything she wanted. Including, Skooma.
She sat on a small bed roll a room deep in the Ratway Warrens sipping on a bottle of Skooma. A very secretive place it was, so shrouded and ignored by all. A perfect place to keep a captive. Maul scribbled away on a piece of parchment, plotting out a plan to lead up to the marriage. Sometimes he would look up from his inscribing to look at Lylette and take in her looks. Each time she would salute him with a certain finger. He would snort out a short laugh and shake his head which just infuriated Lylette further. After a long while of clutching her fists she noticed four little moon shaped cuts on her palm and the identical wound on her other hand. Smugly she healed it with a light golden tome. Maul watched in disgust as his arms ached thanks to her furious flames.
"I'm done." Maul announced. He stood up and held the paper in front of him.
"Yay." Lylette said sarcastically. She layed down on her side, bored.
Maul cleared his throat, "8th of Hearthfire. I bring you to the Black-Briar's and introduce you as my girlfriend." Lylette rolled her eyes. "9th, 10th, and 11th we spend time together around Riften. 12th of Hearthfire we approach Maramal with our proposal. The wedding will be the 15th of Hearthfire. Maven will love it, it will be a great time to mingle with her important subjects. And we will spend our honeymoon in Solitude speaking with, um, certain subjects, until the end of Hearthfire." Lylette could not believe this was actually happening.
"Why don't you just ship me off to Markarth and leave me there?" Lylette asked. Maul actually seemed like he was contemplating it. He walked closer and squatted in front of Lylette. Gingerly he placed his fingers below her chin and tilted her face into the light.
"I shouldn't waste your beauty." Heat rushed to Lylette's cheeks. "And I want kids." Maul got up and walked away, leaving Lylette's heart racing. He wanted kids?! That was mean they would have to make kids. She shuddered at the thought.
"Why not try to fall in love?" Lylette stood up and suggested. Maul stopped walking and laughed.
"Nobody really falls in love in Skyrim."