There is a lot of fun speculative anatomy in this chapter because I swear to fuck, what's the point of non-human characters if you can't have fun with them? The horn type that is mentioned within this chapter actually does have a real life earth-basis, with a singular species that does the same, only their horns are 'pronged'. These aren't, but fuck it, what's the point if I can't have fun non-human bonding rituals? Other things, other things... Oh. Maul is canonically like. 5'7". He is short compared to like. Everyone. It is hilarious to me and I love it. However, given that I am working with a younger Sith, the idea that he's shorter than even that... I'm going to clock him at around 5'4-5" with a start at 5'3"? Please feel the same amount of absolute hysterical joy at him fighting 6'3"-ish Mace Windu, or a 6'4" Qui-Gon Jinn, because I am nearly dying at the thought. Funny thing about growth spurts and how they tend to happen when the body is more stable.

Funny thing.

Mother Talzin is a lying liar who lies, but also tells the truth. Fun combo.

Sourcing:
/collections/mammal_anatomy/horns_and_antlers/ - horns! also horns vs. antlers, neat shit~ Very bottom for the horns in question.

Anakin was sitting alone, his mind buzzing and his heart in pain.

The worst had happened. Two Guards had died and two were submerged in bacta – with every likelihood of healing, but nonetheless they had been in near critical condition when they were brought in. There were some good things to come out of it. The Council had taken a deliberate stand in front of the entire Temple to state that they were going to heal the Sith in their midst, that the Force had put them on this path. The Guards that had remained had also stood there before them and stated that they were ready to die for this.

Any rumblings of discontent, any feelings of hurt or betrayal had been quickly assuaged with the support of both the Council and the Guards. The mumblings of Revan and the reminders of what a healed Sith had looked like had done the rest. Words spoken of what had been done for the Jedi, and what they had done for him.

It still was a loss. Anakin remembered waking with the feeling that something was wrong, remembered Obi-Wan's frantic bid to get dressed, remembered the sudden piercing feeling of pain that wasn't his…

Anakin had snuck away after the announcement, wanting time alone with his thoughts. They were inexperienced healers, Anakin had known that, but he had hoped…

Anakin had hoped.

He sighed, leaning back slightly, looking up towards the starless sky he could see from the window. It was so different to Tatooine, but Anakin swore he would get used to it. This was home now.

He had to get used to it.

Anakin did not know how long he sat there; did not know how long he had been lost with his thoughts until he heard feet running towards him.

"Anakin? Anakin!" he heard, and he stood up, turning to face Obi-Wan who was hurrying towards him. "There you are," he said, taking a breath as he bent over, his blue eyes full of worry as he stared at him. "I couldn't find you, I…" he rubbed his face. "I didn't know where you went. I was afraid you went to see…" he sighed. "I was afraid you snuck off to see Maul."

"No," Anakin denied softly. "I don't want to see him for a bit."

Obi-Wan hesitated before sitting down next to him. "Your mother said that this could happen."

Anakin nodded, huddling slightly. "It can," Anakin agreed softly. "But it doesn't have to," he whispered into his knees.

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "We'll have a funeral soon," he said finally. "They'll be honored for doing their duty and mourned."

"They will be mourned?"

"Oh, Anakin, a Jedi can mourn. We can love as well, it's just…it's that attachment, that inability to let go."

"But then…" Anakin hesitated. "I don't understand," he whispered. "If they can't be attached, how do you mourn?"

"Has anyone sworn revenge?" Obi-Wan asked. "Has anyone…foresworn the Council, or the other Guards?"

"No," Anakin frowned.

"We mourn, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly. "But we also recognize that they have gone on to the Cosmic Force. They have met unity, and so our mourning is coupled with celebration, with an understanding that we will see them again. It is that way with all death. There will likely be a period of time where the ones that were closest to them are filled with the most sadness, where they will wish that they were with them… But ultimately…ultimately, we are Jedi. We will let them go."

Anakin was quiet for a long moment, taking this in, before he finally nodded. "Can I go to the funeral, too?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan said softly. "We'll all go." Obi-Wan hesitated. "No one would blame you for mourning the inability to see your mother for a while, Anakin," he said softly, speaking to something else Anakin had feared. "The other Padawans and Initiates might…well, they might not understand, but none of the Council would begrudge you. I won't either." Obi-Wan hesitated. "I also might not understand exactly what you are feeling, and I won't be able to relate on a…" Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan, squeezing, and Obi-Wan gave a brief call of surprise, before putting an arm around him as well, squeezing back. "It'll be okay, Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered. "Your mother is still someone the Jedi will keep in touch with. And…" Obi-Wan sighed, "Maul hasn't ruined his chances. We aren't going to stop trying to rehabilitate him. I admit to being a bit surprised that…well. I don't know why you're so upset. Were you not one of the ones that warned that this would likely be what he does?"

Anakin was quiet for a long time. "Yes," he whispered. "But I thought…" he frowned. "I don't know," he whispered. "I just felt like…"

"Ah, feelings," Obi-Wan sighed, leaning back and taking Anakin with him. Anakin managed a brief huff of a laugh as they fell against the wall. "What about them?"

"I just…" Anakin huffed, "I feel like he could have done better. Like he should have been better. It's…it's not fair and I know that…I know that fair doesn't have anything to do with anything, but…but I was called to save him… I had hoped…" he wiped his face, "I had hoped that it would have been easier. I had thought that he would have just…" he sniffed. "If I was called, why isn't this easier? Is it…" Anakin hiccupped, finally whispering the thought that had ate at him from the moment he heard, "is it my fault they're dead?"

Obi-Wan sat bolt upright, taking Anakin with him, before shifting slightly, looking him in the eye. "Anakin, what?" he asked, completely inelegantly, staring at him with the first honest surprise Anakin had ever seen.

"I…" Anakin sniffed. "If I hadn't listened to the call…if I had just…"

"Maul would be dead," Obi-Wan said softly. "Maul would be dead, and a life would have still been lost. Have you ever helped your mother with a Blood Slave?"

Anakin hesitated. "From a distance," he admitted softly, "I didn't get to meet them until…until they weren't hurting others. Until the pain had turned internal."

"Why is that?"

Anakin sniffed. "Because I was good at…at spotting when it was going to get bad. When," Anakin wiped his face, "when they were going to do something."

"To themselves or others?"

"To themselves, mostly," Anakin sniffed. "I don't think my mom wanted me around them when they'd hurt others."

"A reasonable desire," Obi-Wan returned softly. "But Anakin, you must…you cannot blame yourself for Maul's actions. His actions are his own, and as a…as a Blood Slave they are trained into him. Maul is a weapon, and he is going to act as a weapon until he knows otherwise. Even if the Force has called to us to spare him, he still acts with his own will. But I do believe that he will learn, and I trust you, and I trust the Force, and I trust in him to turn away from the Dark. And most importantly, Anakin: I don't just trust this, I know that it was not your fault."

Anakin slumped into him, throwing his arms around him and pressing his face into Obi-Wan's collar. The tears that spilled are uncommented on, and when they finally stood at the sound of a chime, Obi-Wan brushes the tears off carefully. "Come on," he said softly. "We will watch as they are returned to the Force."

Anakin nodded, sniffed, and followed, the knife of guilt starting the slow dislodge from his heart.

It had been weeks since Maul escaped and was recaptured, since their Guards had returned to the Force.

Mace Windu sat in the pilot chair of his fighter, reflecting to himself quietly as the blue blur of hyperspace washed over him. In that time Anakin Skywalker had managed to truly begin settling into his Apprenticeship. Obi-Wan had been a good temporary Teacher until Qui-Gon returned, helping Anakin go to his testing and seeing to it that he'd begun his lessons in reading and writing Aurebesh, as well as giving him more extended testing so they knew what gaps in his education needed to be closed.

Anakin worked with the Initiates at first, and while there was definitely a disconnect it did not seem as though it was as deep as they had initially feared. Anakin had decided that he was going to be a Jedi, and he had also decided that nothing was going to stop him. That apparently included Initiates that did not understand him.

Mace was grateful, even if a part of him was regretful.

Anakin deserved friends his own age, but that was beyond the ability of the Council to enforce.

Nonetheless, he was settling, and his aptitude was revealing itself to be beyond most of his peers. Hence some of the difficulties. However, even with that setback, Anakin had been an attentive and dutiful student, and his resolve shone through. Overall, Mace was very pleased on the Skywalker front of things.

On the Maul side…

Maul had not spoken a word. After his initial half-admittance, half-boast, after he had lost… Maul had not said a single thing.

Maul had begun training again, had settled into a crude form of meditation, and was still eating, but otherwise… He had begun acting as though the Jedi that approached him did not exist.

It had taken those weeks for Mace to finally bring up the option of speaking to Mother Talzin, of perhaps gaining insight into a lost Nightbrother.

Taken as an infant could mean one of two things. Either Maul had been stolen, or he had been a gift.

Ultimately, Mace had an opportunity here of learning who the Master was. Of knowing who it was that had trained Maul. There was also the opportunity of knowing more about what had led to this. Mace did not know if they would surrender Maul to them, it would be trading slavery for slavery, but Mace honestly didn't think that the Nightsisters would take him back anyway.

It was no secret that the Nightbrothers were under the Nightsisters' power.

A Nightbrother trained in the ways of the Sith would potentially cause an upheaval that would not be fixed anytime soon, and he could not imagine Mother Talzin would compromise her rule in such a way.

Mace was therefore confident as he landed and stepped out, walking into the wilds of Dathomir, that Mother Talzin would not express interest in taking Maul back, and they could gain valuable intel. He supposed it depended on whether or not Maul was a gift. If he was…there was a possibility that they would overextend, that the one who had taken their gift would be notified of the Jedi's interference.

Regardless, as Nightsisters fell from the trees, surrounding him, and he asked to speak to Mother Talzin, the explicit understanding hung heavy around them – the Jedi Council knew that Mace Windu was there, and Mace would leave unharmed, or a war that could not be won would be started.

It did not stop them from taking his lightsaber, or threatening him with an arrow to the back, but Mace was not overly concerned. They took him deep into the swamp, to the Sanctuary of the Sisters, and eventually to the largest building there, squatting like a starving nexu among the rising haze of Dathomir's natural ichors. The world reeked of Dark and Magick and the Sanctuary was the worst of it.

Mace was led deep within to find Mother Talzin standing in a large atrium, staring out the window into the green-haze of the large pool in the middle of their Sanctuary, the cause of all the mist.

"Master Windu," she said, her doubled-voice full of knowing.

"Mother Talzin," Mace returned, looking to her.

"You have a question of me…"

Mace closed his eyes for a moment. "I have more than a question," he said finally, looking to her. "The Jedi have a Nightbrother."

"Oh?" Mother Talzin looked at him, her yellow eyes sulfurous. "And how did you acquire him?"

"He attempted to kill two of our Jedi," Mace responded. "He was following the orders of his Master." Mace looked to Talzin, to see how she was reacting. Her expression had not shifted, but there was a moment when her eyes flickered. "He has been trained in the way of the Sith since he was an infant. I wondered if you knew anything about him."

Mace had not been expecting for Mother Talzin to play her hand. He hadn't really been expecting for much at all, so it was a bit of a surprise when she looked at him, her yellow eyes sharp. "Tell me, Master Windu, is his skin as red as fresh blood?"

Mace hesitated, before giving a nod, "Yes. It's…the darkest I have seen a Dathomirian Zabrak."

Mother Talzin nodded slowly. "So," she said, and her voice was quiet, "you have found the son that was stolen from me."

Mace Windu froze. He turned to look at Mother Talzin, her gaze even as it met his eyes. "Your son?"

"Yes," Mother Talzin answered softly, "my son. Stolen from me before the afterbirth dried on his skin. Stolen from me before I could give him his true name."

Mace Windu stared at her, feeling the truth of her words, reading the Force as it flowed over them. There was a slowly growing horror behind his breastbone, one that he breathed in deep and carefully breathed out. "So soon?" he whispered.

"Tell me, Master Windu," she said, and her gaze was hard as it pierced him, "has he been marked?"

"Yes," Mace answered with a sharp nod. "His markings are black. From what we have seen he is covered in them."

"Then that was stolen from me as well."

Mace closed his eyes for a moment, before reaching into his robes and pulling out his handheld holoprojector, activating it to show the face of Mother Talzin's son.

She gave a soft sound, taking a step forward as she looked at the piercing quality of his eyes, the way they bored out from black markings, taking in the black that branded him. Her mouth twisted, and it was a look of almost disgust.

Mace felt that little knife of horror twist and carefully breathed it out.

"His marks have been bastardized," she said softly. "My son has been caged by a hand not of Dathomir."

Mace closed his eyes, trying to think of what to do, what to say. This was not something he had expected. To learn that Mother Talzin's son was the one who had been taken, to stare into the eyes of the woman who had given birth to him, and for her to be so powerful… Maul was a Prince of Dathomir, a son of their Leader, of their Mother.

"His name is Maul," Mace intoned, and Talzin's gaze shifted to his, before looking back to his face. There was a pause before something almost like amusement drifted across her face.

"The name is well chosen. It is a good name for a Brother."

Mace took that in for a moment, finally nodding, breathing out the momentary gratefulness that at least this had not been taken from the one in their care. "We aim to rehabilitate him," Mace said finally. "We aim to…remove the cage around his soul, to let him be free. When we are finished…we would return him, if that is what he wants. If that is what you want."

Mother Talzin's gaze turned from the hologram to Mace Windu's, and her expression was ice. "Why would I wish for him to be returned?" Mace felt his head tilt back at the coldly intoned question, felt his jaw tighten at the quiet, "What use do I have for a Son?"

Mace Windu had struggled with anger when he was younger. In that one moment, Mace felt the return of all of that anger, all of that rage, and it was the first time in a very long time that he fought to breathe it out. The influence of the Sith in their midst had been banished as easily as breathing, the sight of young Anakin Skywalker before a juvenile Sith Lord had been enough to shake it from him.

Mace took three deep breaths, and finally breathed it out. Three tries to breathe out the anger at the sound of a mother so callously refusing her own son. A son that had been taken before he had been cleaned. A son who had been taken before he'd been loved.

But this was the way of the Nightsisters.

This was the way of the Nightbrothers.

"He would receive more care in your hands than he could ever have in my own," Mother Talzin intoned, and Mace closed his eyes before giving a slow nod.

There was a truth in it that he did not like.

"Very well," he said, though it stuck in his throat. "Do you know who took him?"

Mother Talzin was quiet for a moment before she spread her hands. "He came claiming that he wanted to learn the secrets of the Nightsisters. Of our Magick. We accepted him as he was willing to pay tribute. He deceived us, killed a score of our Sisters, and stole my son." Mother Talzin's gaze was firm, her words dark as pitch. "If I had a name to give you, Master Jedi, I would."

Mace took this in for a moment, before his eyes closed and he bowed. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Master Windu," she said, her voice quiet. "We have lost much. If you were to find the one who stole my son…" she hesitated, looking to him as he straightened. "Take heed, Master Windu, he is a snake. You will not find him until he has bitten your heel."

"We will be prepared," Mace said with another bow. "Does he have any siblings? Is there anyone who would like to know he still lives?"

Mother Talzin shook her head. "There were no other siblings, Master Jedi."

Mace nodded slowly. "Thank you for seeing me, Mother. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me."

"Of course, Master Windu," Mother Talzin returned with a bow of her own. "Our Orders do not have to be enemies. Perhaps my son can be a token of this… He is strong, after all. I knew it at his birth. So did the one who took him…"

Mace thought of gifts that people had no right to give, and gave a soft exhale, "He is. The… The Order thanks you. It has been a pleasure."

"I will see to it that the Sisters do not trouble you on the way back to your ship."

"Thank you," Mace Windu said, and with one last nod of his head, he turned, and left.

True to her word, the Nightsisters did not trouble Mace on his journey back to his ship. He could feel no tampering and upon entering, the ship felt as though it had not been breached. He walked to the pilot seat and for a moment he sat and he thought.

Mother Talzin's words had sung with honesty in the Force.

Mace had never wished to hear lies from another's mouth, but as he sat there thinking, he realized that in this moment he almost wished that some had been given. Mace closed his eyes for a moment, and slowly breathed out. He had a report to make to the Council.

Mace looked in the direction of the fabled Nightbrother village and thought idly of visiting it, but finally looked away. What did it matter seeing the place where Maul would have grown up? What would it do other than show Mother Talzin that he did not trust her word?

Mace started the ship's engines and took off from Dathomir. He would wait until he was in hyperspace and then he would make the call. The information had not been much, but the picture it had painted was…troublesome.

Mace thought of mothers and he thought of sons and knew that it would be a long time before anyone would tell Maul of his heritage.

That told him of his Mother that thought to use him…that his Mother would use him as a token.

Eeth Koth had been given a very important, and very difficult job.

They had been in talks about it as of two days ago when the Guards spotted Maul attempting to scrape his horns against the doorframe to the refresher. Initially they thought the desire had been to cause some sort of damage to the room, but upon realization that his horns couldn't get enough purchase, Maul had growled quietly and turned his attention away.

The sight of the bedroll sticking to horns that had started to become seriously overgrown, chipping past the dead layer of keratin had made them realize what was happening and they had presented to the Council, hence the two days of 'how do we approach this?' Ultimately, Maul's horns needed to be filed, the dead keratin shed, and he had nothing to either gouge against, or files to do it on his own.

They could not give him sharp objects. They had come to realize that Maul would act upon any perceived weakness and there was a fear that he would hurt himself. There was also the fact that any tools that they could give him in order to rub down his horns had a certain…

They already had him in a collar due to keeping him from finding the locking mechanism and the ability to tamper with it. Giving him something that required him to rut his head against it like an animal… No. The fact that he'd been reduced to trying it against the doorframe was bad enough.

So, after a great deal of discussion, Eeth had finally made the decision that led to him carrying a file and a pair of binders. Maul could not be trusted not to attack, he could not be trusted with sharp objects, and frankly, Eeth wondered a bit whether or not Maul had ever been taught how to properly file his own horns. They would hold off on filing his claws down, depending on whether he asked or not.

It had been two weeks and Maul had not said a single word… Eeth did not think that Maul would ask, and the thought caused a moment of pain that Eeth breathed in and breathed out.

Eeth had not thought it would be easy.

Even with the Force calling for Maul to live, that there was a destiny there, Eeth knew that it would be an upwards battle for him. The more he had heard, the more he had seen, the more Eeth was painfully aware that Maul had not had a modicum of kindness from anyone up until this point.

And the ones who gave him that kindness were the Jedi.

Eeth took a breath. It was frankly little wonder he had reacted in that manner. Maul had no way of understanding what was happening.

Maul had no way of processing that the ones that were kind to him had been his enemies.

Their loss of life had been a terrible thing, but Eeth had trusted in the Guards, and he had trusted in the Jedi within their walls to not only recognize why they had made the decision, but to recognize the importance of it. Eeth did not see it as the betrayal to their people Depa initially had. Eeth agreed with her that they should have told them sooner, had told them how and why they were doing what they were doing, but he did not see it as something they could not come back from.

They made mistakes, they fixed them, and they never made the mistake again, and now that the rest of the Jedi were in agreement with what they were doing it made it even more important. He wondered if her lack of contact was what had also made the possibility of going against their initial plan so simple. Eeth would petition for the rest of the Council to spend some time with Maul, if only for a short time. He rather thought that they could all benefit with more contact.

Eeth hoped dearly that he wasn't about to make another mistake, that Maul's desire to remove the shedding keratin was enough to let Eeth near.

One thing was for sure, though, Eeth was going to keep his lightsaber outside of the cell.

Maul was stretching when he finally approached, his body twisted in an awkward angle with his foot pressed against the back of his head while his back stretched in an arch, the other leg crossed beneath him. Maul opened an eye when he heard Eeth approach, his gaze sharp. It was only after Maul closed his eyes in dismissal and shifted to another pose that he realized it was close to the time that they would feed him.

"Apologies," Eeth said, making Maul open that singular eye again. "I didn't bring you dinner this time, but I have something else." Eeth held up the file, watching Maul's eye track it, and then Maul turned more fully to face him. Eeth took a breath, preparing for what he had to say. "If you will permit me, I will file them for you."

Maul's expression shifted from open want to sudden disgust, before his expression closed off entirely and he stood up.

"Surely you recognize why we cannot trust you with a metal file?" Eeth said, trying to keep his tone modulated, to not give him a hint that there was any pity or amusement there. Maul took a moment, before his expression shifted a bit. "You would have to wear these," he held out the binders, letting Maul take them in, and there was a moment when his expression shifted, and there was such…

Eeth did not want to do this to Maul. Eeth recognized that this must feel a bit like a choice without a choice, but there was nothing else for it. They could not allow Maul to file his own horns due to the nature of the tool involved, and Eeth similarly could not enter into his prison without some manner of protection.

Maul said nothing for a very long time, pacing up along the edge of the transparisteel, obviously thinking, and finally, he nodded.

Eeth opened the small hatch they used for sending food in, the one that connected both panels of transparisteel, sliding the binders through, and Maul picked them up before holding them before him, and then turning, clapping them on his wrists behind his back in a weirdly practiced motion, carefully locking them on himself in plain view. Maul pulled his wrists apart, or tried to, showing how the binders flexed with him, and Eeth nodded when Maul turned around to look at him expectantly.

The realization that this was a drill that Maul knew brought more questions to Eeth's mind, but he would wait for them to be answered.

Maul obviously would still not be speaking, and Eeth would be patient.

After making sure that Maul's binders were in place, Eeth removed the lightsaber from his belt, holding it up so Maul could take it in, and setting it to the side. The only thing that could be used as a weapon was the file, and Eeth would not be relinquishing it. The Guards stepped up on either side of him, and unlocked the door to let Eeth in, letting him step through into the small section between the transparisteel dividers, closing it behind him. A moment later and the door to Maul's prison opened, and Eeth stood before the young Zabrak in the flesh in a way he had not since the 'trial'.

Maul hesitated, looking at him, and Eeth walked forward, keeping his senses on alert. This close Eeth could tell how good Maul's shielding was, the constant practicing of Teräs Käsi had hinted to it, but it was still impressive. Eeth was ready for Maul to make a move of some kind, he could not imagine the Sith not making at least some attempt, so when Eeth finally stepped into the cell and the doors closed behind him, Eeth was ready for the attempted goring.

Eeth instinctively lowered his head, twisted it, and caught the horns on Maul's crown with his own, carefully locking them in place in the gesture Zabrak had been utilizing on young and family for centuries.

Eeth was an Iridonian Zabrak, and that showed in several ways. For one, he had hair in comparison to his completely hairless Dathomirian cousins, for another their social bonds were not as firm. Due to the isolated and insulated nature of the Dathomirian Nightbrothers, they had long associated the locking of horns with affection and familiarity instead of the threat they had once been. Iridonian Zabraks were heading on that path, but they were nowhere near as settled within it, and while the rush of serotonin and warmth at the gesture was mild and easily ignored on Eeth's part…

Eeth was not prepared for Maul's knees to buckle beneath him, the way he slumped against his chest. Eeth instinctively caught the shorter Zabrak and lowered him carefully, immediately letting go when he felt Maul bristle, taking a few steps away.

Eeth watched as Maul shifted, shaking his head, looking a bit as though he had been submerged in ice water, his expression so…

"Has no one ever done that with you before-?" Eeth almost slipped, almost called the one before him 'little one,' when he knew it would come back to bite him. Maul's look of complete lack of comprehension told him what he needed to know and Eeth nearly staggered himself.

Horn locking was one of the most innate gestures of affection to a Zabrak. A growing Zabrak, Dathomiri or not, needed them as much as a growing human needed hugs, needed positive touch, and it was still something done as an adult with close friends, with people seen as family. Eeth would allow different members of the Council and the Jedi to press their foreheads against his in an imitation, let them hook fingers… For Maul to have never experienced such a simple and yet beautiful thing when it was necessary for his development…

Eeth thought of a lack of understanding of art, thought of the way he had viewed their attempts to be kind to him as a threat, and thought he may understand.

Eeth hesitated, and finally straightened. For a moment he thought of explaining, but judging by the look on Maul's face, the way he hadn't moved and the way he seemed to have shut off… Eeth hesitated. "Will you let me behind you? Your rearmost horn looks as though it has the worst of it."

Maul hesitated, staring up at him, before finally he gave a rough nod. Eeth walked behind him carefully, sitting down in such a way that he could move quickly if necessary, before taking the file and beginning to work his way through the keratin sheath to reveal the bone core beneath, being as careful as possible. Zabrak horns consisted of a permanent bone-core while the sheath of keratin was shed yearly, sometimes more when they were growing, and… Eeth looked at the bound hands before him, taking in where the tunic rested on his wrists and decided that Maul might actually be having a bit of a growth spurt.

Eeth took a moment as he worked through the keratin to gather himself and softly, "It is a natural Zabrakian instinct," Eeth explained, feeling Maul's head shift slightly and carefully adjusting himself to not hit that core. "The locking of horns is a greeting to children, friends, mates…" he hesitated, "and it is also good for stopping threats." Maul made a soft sound that might have been a scoff and might have been a laugh and Eeth felt a slight grin pull at his mouth as he continued. "You are a Dathomirian Zabrak, a Nightbrother. Your genus is very different to mine, and your social instincts are stronger." Eeth took a breath. "If I had known you would have reacted like that, I would not have done it. I did not realize it would be such a strong reaction. Frankly, I had only wished to stop you from goring me."

Maul made a sound that was suspiciously like a bit-off laugh, and Eeth found that grin widening.

"Have you ever tugged at your own horn?" he asked, and Maul made an uncomfortable shift, Eeth's expression twisting at the motion. "It's not a bad thing to do. It's a self-sooth, it's…not a weakness. It's utilizing the body's natural reaction to stimuli and can actually sharpen awareness if you have been drugged." Maul perked slightly and Eeth had to bite back the question of what had stopped him from acting on that initial urge. Eeth knew that Maul would have them. Eeth was quite sure he knew why, and so he dismissed it. "You may wish to start doing so," Eeth finally said quietly, "so you get used to the way your body is going to react to the feeling. It will not quite be the same as a full interlocking, but if you use your hand to tug the first two at least… You shouldn't have as strong of a reaction should you ever lock horns again."

Maul took this in and Eeth carefully peeled away some of the sheath that was left on the core, reaching down to hook the base and feel where the keratin had started to regrow. It was more than hallway up the horn itself, Eeth noted, a frown twisting his mouth. It was little wonder Maul had been trying to scrape it off using the door, that must have been maddening. Eeth's frown deepened, before he tapped the horn to the right of center, "This one next."

Eeth carefully worked his way through the horns carefully, not saying much as he worked his way around, pausing periodically to check the regrowth, to file it back if it had started to chip. "If you need this again, please ask the Guards," Eeth said softly when he was facing Maul, the last three in front of him. "I will come and take care of it. It was a neglectful act for us to let it get this bad and I apologize on behalf of the Council and particularly myself. I should have known better."

Maul stared at him with golden eyes, taking this in, before giving a small nod.

It felt like more of a victory than it should, and Eeth was careful to breathe it out before it could cloud him. He was directly eye-to-eye with a Sith that had shown that he wasn't unwilling to try and gore him, and it would be safer if he kept all his wits around him. Finally, Eeth worked his way through the horns above his eyes, leaving him with the singular one in the center of Maul's forehead.

Eeth carefully worked at the keratin with the file, breaking it away and finally leaving the regrown keratin room to breathe and to finish its job encasing the bone core.

"You seem to be going through a bit of a growth spurt," Eeth noted quietly, watching as Maul frowned at the statement, his wrists shifting behind him. "We'll get your new measurements and have new clothes sent."

Maul took this in for a moment before giving a slight nod, standing up slowly, Eeth doing the same. Maul twisted his binders slightly and Eeth backed away, the door opening behind him, and as Eeth stepped through Maul made a movement as though he was going to follow, but stopped, his gaze flickering slightly. Instead he turned around, letting Eeth get to the binders.

"Back up," Eeth said softly, Maul doing so carefully, "Stop." Maul did, his wrists in reach, and carefully Eeth reached out, pressing the trigger to unlock them, laced with his biosignature, and letting the binders fall to the ground, pulling them back with the Force as the door closed in front of him, locking Maul away.

Maul turned around to face him, and Eeth could definitely tell he had gotten a little taller. Not much, but Eeth rather thought that the regular meals and the lack of stress had allowed Maul's body the final incentive to grow. The thought would be enough to make Eeth frown, but he refrained, unsure how Maul would take it. He picked the binders up, before turning around, the door before him unsealing and allowing him to walk into the rest of the prison. The Guards nodded at him, and he to them, calling his lightsaber to his hand with the Force, before he took a few steps forward, and then, quietly…

"Where is Plo?"

The question was soft, and rough, and there was such a note of… Eeth smiled to himself, knowing in that one moment that things were starting to shift.

There was a note of resignation to that question.

Maul had recognized that it was likely in reaction to what Maul himself had done.

Maul had recognized a consequence.

Eeth looked to the Guards on either side, who had straightened slightly, their featureless masks turning towards him in a way that spoke of the same realization. Eeth turned, "He has gone to seek for other children to bring into our Order," he explained. "He needed to heal away from the Temple."

Maul's expression creased slightly in confusion and Eeth's expression softened.

"Not all wounds are physical."

Maul tilted his head, before giving a soft sound of derision, looking away. Eeth closed his eyes for a moment, and then thought. Plo had given Maul the opportunity to use his first name, and he had made that clear. He had also mentioned how Maul hadn't paid any attention when Plo had introduced himself the first time, and that was when Eeth chuckled quietly. Maul looked up sharply, and Eeth smiled, stepping forward once again. "Forgive me Darth Maul," he said, "I have come to the realization that I have not introduced myself to you this time. My name is Master Eeth Koth. You are allowed to call me Eeth. I should have made sure you knew who I was before I filed your horns, and I do apologize."

Maul stared at him in a way that suggested 'finally,' and Eeth fought not to laugh again. He didn't blame him at all.

"Plo will be coming back."

Maul gave a brief nod, and Eeth gave a brief bow, though hesitated before leaving, judging from the slight downward cast of his eyes and the way he had started to hold himself tighter that Maul was about to ask something else.

"The…" Maul closed his eyes, and finally said through gritted teeth, "the smaller brat, the…"

Eeth blinked, for a moment confused as to who he could be talking about, as well as fighting off a slow budding of amusement at the term. Smaller brat? Suggesting there was a bigger brat? Who would Maul consider to be a brat of all things? Eeth was quite sure he was younger than most of…

Oh.

Oh!

"Anakin Skywalker?" Eeth prompted, "the one who jumped before you? The blond human boy?"

"Yes," Maul sighed out.

"He's started training," Eeth reported with a smile, "he's to become a Jedi."

Maul took that in for a moment, giving a slow nod.

"But I will make sure that he knows you asked about him."

The nod froze, his eyes closed, and Maul looked distinctly like he was questioning all of his life choices up until that point.

Eeth had to fight to retain serenity, he had to fight to contain his calm, and eventually he wound up having to give another bow, and walk away.

He had a report to give.