WARNINGS: This chapter begins with a panic attack - the advice Tiq gives is accurate, grounding yourself (literally), putting your hands over your mouth to force yourself to breathe through your nose, or otherwise dunking your face (entire body) in cold water is all good for stopping panic.
The rest of this chapter is written in a sort of...fugue. Maul is suffering from catatonia. Catatonia is often associated with schizophrenia, but that is not what is happening here. It can also be associated with Depression which. is a lot more what is happening.
Annnnnd... Tissue warning.
That said: Maul gets a hug.
Outside of the warnings, this chapter features the one change I have made (so far) to Maul's Legends Wrath of Darth Maul past - and that's mainly because a. the fact that Mandalorians adopt any child they see is amazing. b. Maul is a lot younger than in canon c. Maul had to get his honor from somewhere, and frankly it made sense.
There are several quotes straight from the Wrath of Darth Maul novel.
I wrote this entirely while listening to: www .youtube watch?v=k6F77kJFFks and I do recommend it
Maul could not breathe.
He curled inward, feeling the awful beating of his heart pounding within him like he had run through his drills, but he had done nothing. He had done nothing. There was nothing to explain the sudden feeling of sweat breaking out along his skin, nothing to explain why he could not…
That child that stared up at him, her eyes so wide, the way she had asked to be his friend. The way she had clung to Plo…
Maul could not breathe.
His fingers tugged at his horns, his breath hitched, his lungs spasming and nothing, nothing, nothing.
If she was so advanced, then what had he been?
He could not breathe.
Maul's fingers slipped to his mouth, biting deep, tasting blood and he could not…
And still he had failed?
Maul's mind was a starburst of pain, rippling out, consuming him and he wanted to scream but he had no air, he had no…
There was a pounding on the refresher door, Tiq's voice was yelling, and Maul didn't want to let him in.
He didn't want him to see.
Was Maul dying?
Was he really so weak that this…this…?
No wonder his Master had left him.
His Master had hurt him for nothing.
Maul felt something within him shatter.
The door was broken open, the Force tearing it open, and then there was someone there.
Maul still could not breathe.
And Maul could not care. Maul did not even see who it was. Could not even register the voice, even as he heard the words as they washed over him.
"Lord Maul, you are having a panic attack…not dying. You are not…danger. Nothing…to hurt you. I need you to breathe…You can do it. I need you to remove your fingers… Hold your mouth closed. And just…breathe in…nose. And breathe out."
Maul did nothing, could feel nothing, could taste nothing, not even the blood a corner of his mind knew was seeping into his mouth…
"Lord Maul is it okay if I touch you?"
Maul did not care. Maul could not care.
Maul could not move.
"I am going to remove your boots and put your feet on the floor. Grounding is important, and this is a good way to make you feel better."
Maul said nothing even as he felt the tugging of someone pulling at his feet as though from miles away. There was an ache in his hips, an ache in his legs, but once again it was so distant. A part of Maul was afraid, Maul had never not been in control of his body…
But most of him did not care and he did not move.
"Your socks, too."
The feeling of bare feet on tile, the alleviation of an ache as he was shifted, his feet pressed to the ground, and Maul let himself be moved.
Maul did not care.
"Just breathe."
The hands were there at his mouth, pulling at his fingers, tugging them free of teeth and that salty warm slick increased.
Maul said nothing. Did nothing as fabric was tied around them to staunch the flow.
Maul did not care.
"Have you ever had this happen before?"
Maul said nothing and the energy to think about it was gone.
It did not matter.
"As I called it before, this is known as a panic attack, and it can be triggered by any number of things. You, my dear Darth Maul, have been under severe emotional and psychological pressure for…a very long time now. This is not a weakness, Darth Maul."
Had he blinked? He thought he wanted to blink.
Had Maul breathed yet?
Maul did not know.
"The fact that you have made it for so long when your path has been so dark…never forget that you are seeing something that you have not seen before. Your body needs to adjust to it, and sometimes there are quakes. Sometimes there are faults where what was rubs up against what is and your entire being shudders and seems to scream…these are the aftershocks. I want you to know that it is a terrible thing that this has been done to you, that you would be forced to go through this at all…but please listen to me – we will get you through them."
Maul said nothing.
There was more happening to his hands, the hands he could not feel, even though he was vaguely aware they were pressed against his mouth. There was blood there, it tickled, cooling, and Maul…did not care.
The sound of the shower running – not sonics, running water – came afterwards, and Maul was idly aware of it.
He still did not know if he had blinked.
He still did not know if he was breathing.
"The water is cold, and it shocks your system into breathing normally. Now."
There were arms wrapping around him, lifting him up and Maul listed, following the movements as they lifted him up, dragging him to the sound of water. The sudden cold shock as his head was pressed into it, the feeling of the water pouring down his back sending goosebumps up his spine.
Oh.
He was breathing.
Maul thought that was probably good.
Those hands were shifting him, moving him to sit on the lid of the toilet and Maul sat, unmoving.
"I'm sorry."
Maul hated those words.
Hated.
Hated.
Hated.
And he still could not care.
I'm…
Maul blinked, feeling something touching his hands, a voice, another voice, here with him, not then, not there…
"Can you change for me? I have dry clothes, will you put them on?"
Maul heard them but They
Meant.
Nothing.
Maul did not care if he was wet. He did not care about the water that still dripped from him, the chill that was eating into his skin.
Maul did not care.
Maul said nothing.
"Maul if you do not then I will have to. Do you understand, you must get dry, it is not good for you to remain wet and cold like this, not as you are. You are likely to get sick."
Maul did not care.
"Maul, please, I'm going to give you one more chance, and then I will have to change you. Are you alright with this?"
Maul said nothing.
Maul did not care.
"Okay. Okay. I'm going to remove your tunic."
Maul let the hands straighten his arms out, let the hands maneuver him so they could get at the belt on his tunic, could undo it. The hands were careful, Maul could almost think of them as clinical. Impersonal.
The truth is I accidentally broke your ribs. But if I had told Master Sidious the truth, he would have destroyed me… I did not want to prolong your pain.
But Maul was pain and Maul was hurt.
But Maul did not care.
He knew this touch. He knew what it felt like, the careful touch that was so like every other touch he had been given. Impersonal and cold and distant.
Maul did not care about the hands that removed his tunic, the feeling of a towel rasping over his skin, catching on old scars and old wounds and agony and agony and agony.
"Your trousers are next if you do nothing, Maul, they are completely drenched…"
Maul did not care, and he did not move. Did not close his arms to protect his chest, did not move at all.
"Maul…I'm going to stand you up."
Maul felt the hands touch his skin and the moment they paused, for just a moment skittering from the flesh on his shoulder and…
These are some impressive scars you have here, verd'ika. Do you know how many people can say they ru'murcyur by a Storm? How many can say they lived?
But they were just scars. They were just trails of pain across his body, so many, so many.
Maul had worn his scars with pride.
Had worn his scars as though they had meaning.
But what were they now? What were they now but empty marks of a wasted…?
The hands pulled him up, and Maul stood.
"I'm going to remove your trousers."
And Maul did not care.
Maul did not listen to the voice as they continued to talk, did not pay attention to the hands as they removed his clothes and dried him off, when they moved him to replace his clothing and brought him from the refresher.
They lay him on his bed.
Maul laid there, letting the hands curl him up with his back to the wall.
He always slept like this.
Maul did not care.
Maul heard the voice talking again. Heard…heard…
Nothing.
Maul heard nothing.
And he did not care.
"…Your Master was wrong to do that to you. Your Master was wrong. Did he do that to you when you were a child? Those scars are so old, Lord Maul."
And quiet…quiet quiet quiet…
"How could he do that to a child?"
You should know by now, child…Sidious knows everything.
Maul shuddered and closed his eyes. His Master knew everything. His Master knew
G
Everything that Maul was. Everything he would be. Everything everything everything
Everything
His Master…
Did not know about his horns.
Or maybe he did not care.
Maul did not care.
Maul could not care.
Maul said nothing.
Maul lay there staring at nothing and the passage of time meant nothing the timepiece meant nothing and there was nothing and he was nothing and there were voices and they said something and Maul did not care and could not care…
"…we could administer it intravenously."
Maul did not care but he did care and there were hands on his wrist and on his arm and Maul was barely aware that he bared his teeth and hissed and pulled back hooking his hands into claws and letting the angry rattling growl that he had fought down fought down fought down for so much of his life rattle into being and the hands backed away the voices paused his body refusing even as
Maul
Did
Not
Care
"…We will not drug him. We will not…I know I can work him through this. The only other option is electroshock and I will not…"
Maul's growl turned into a snarl turned into a spitting hiss and…
"It will not happen; we will not do that to you. It will be fine, Lord Maul. It will be fine. It will be fine."
And Maul did not care.
"I am sorry, Lord Maul…"
I'm sorry…
Maul hated. He hated.
The voices were leaving, and Maul did not care, even as the one voice stayed.
"Lord Maul…I know you can hear me, can hear everyone that is here, and I know that right now things seem…irrelevant, but I assure you that it is not. It is not and while you might feel right now…as though everything is too much… I know you will get through this. I know you will because you are strong, and you are capable, and you have been through so much. You will break these chains that are upon you…"
Through passion he gained strength…
But Maul had no passion.
Maul did not care.
And that meant he had no strength.
And that meant there was no power.
No victory…
No breaking…
Maul thought he should care. But Maul could not care.
"But the strength requires passion, doesn't it?"
Far above.
"That must seem so out of reach right now…"
Far below.
"I'm sorry that it feels like you are something insignificant…something small…"
I'm sorry ad'ika…
We don't know where we'll fall
"That it probably feels as though nothing matters and you will not feel passion again…"
You are strong and you are quick, and you are clever.
Far above.
"But I promise you, Maul: You will make it out of this. You will come out of this and you will find passion again, you will find strength, power, victory and the breaking of chains…"
Good work, verd'ika. I should have known you'd be able to break those chains so quick.
Far below.
"But I do wish to give you the knowledge that there are other ways to strength, Maul. There are other ways to victory."
You don't need to use your Force tricks all the time. What's the point in strangling a victim from afar if you can't see the breath leave them? If you cannot feel the blood on your hands and know that you are strong and know that you have won, then what is the point?
What once was great is rendered small.
"And if you let us, we will show you power. We will show you great victory in ways you never believed possible. We will help you break your chains and free you… We have always wished to free you."
Why do you go back to him? Why do you go back when… Ignore me. Ignore me, verd'ika, I'm sorry. I'm just…drunk. I'm drunk and I'm not thinking straight.
Maul was small.
He found a rasping terrible sound leaving him. Whining and rasping and shuddering and…and…
He thought it might have been laughter.
Maul did not care.
Maul had been rendered Small.
But had he ever been great to begin with?
Those hands were gentle, gentle, gentle as they pulled at his horns, and the rush of serotonin and the soft firmness of hands slowly running down the side of his face as the voice whispered,
"Shh, shh…hush, Lord Maul. It's alright. I know that it must seem so distant. Like such a lie…but I promise I speak truth. I promise. I'm sorry it seems so unbelievable…"
I'm sorry, ad'ika. I'm…
Maul hated.
And he could not listen, and the laughter strangled and stifled within him, the hands left. The voice fell silent soon after, but Maul did not think it left.
Maul did not care.
Time once again meant nothing, and he had laid there too long but he could not get up and he could not bring himself to care.
That voice came again, soft and it asked if he needed to use the refresher, asked and…Maul could not answer, but the voice seemed to know. It walked him through and a part of him wished to be angry, wished to hate, he had known what to do ever since he was a child and the only thing there was a hole in the ground for his waste but…
Maul.
Did.
Not.
Care.
Maul's position was changed, his body sat on the ground and he did not know how much time had passed.
And the room blurred and he blurred and there were hands and a voice and they guided, they guided. And Maul knew nothing, and did not know what was happening, and Maul did not care… The world did not exist.
He ate. He slept. He went to the refresher. The guiding hands and the voice and that was all he knew.
And then he was brought back into the room and this time he was sat and there was another voice, another sound another one, smaller, small… The food smelled…bitter. Medicinal. Bitter bitter bitter.
Maul knew what this was. He knew what this was, but he did not care. Did not care that he had not passed the test and was forced to eat it again and again until… Until he figured it out.
He heard the voice talk about healing herbs, how it was supposed to help heal you, but Maul could not move, and he did not care. Maul heard as the little voice got angry. But Maul knew that the voice was truly afraid, that the anger hid its fear.
Maul knew fear.
Maul did not care.
"Eat! Eat the soup, eat it! Just pick up the spoon and eat it!"
Maul picked up the spoon.
Maul ate.
Maul felt nothing and cared about nothing.
But Maul knew an order when he heard one.
Tell me what you know about the Jedi.
Don't trust the jetiise.
The sound of that voice hitching in a gasp meant nothing.
Breathe it in, my Apprentice. Breathe in the Ash of the Empire that came before. Let the Hate fill you.
All of that hate, all of that rage in you, verd'ika, it makes a powerful weapon. You're going to use it, and you're going to use it well.
It had been an order and it would be an order he would follow.
A punishment is a lesson, young Maul. Learn it well.
I know it hurts, verd'ika, but I promise the pain now is worth the lesson. You'll remember to dodge the next time it happens, and what happens when you don't. I know it hurts, verd'ika. Hold still – let me set it.
The tears that Maul could hear meant nothing, were nothing.
Do not flinch again.
Flinching shows weakness, and weakness can be taken advantage of, don't do it.
The first lesson Maul had ever learned was the fact that tears meant nothing.
You must never talk about your powers to anyone else on Orsis. If you disobey this command, the consequences will be most dire.
You're a Force Wielder? You…it's alright verd'ika. It's alright. I won't tell. I won't tell. No one will know. I've got you. It's alright.
Maul knew orders and so he would listen.
He just wanted the one crying to shut up.
But Maul did not care enough to say so. Maul just followed orders.
"I'm sorry!"
The voice cried. It cried and it cried…
I'm sorry, ad'ika. I'm sorry…
The time passed again with soft words from the voice interspersed by orders – change, sleep, use the refresher, eat, exercise – and Maul followed them. He knew his drills by heart. His body followed them without thinking. But then there were the times when Maul was given no orders. That was when the voice talked to him again.
Sometimes the voice talked about the Jedi. Sometimes the voice talked about the Sith. Sometimes the voice talked about his Master and Maul did not like that.
But Maul also did not care.
"It is not your fault, you know?"
Maul did not know whose fault it could be…
"Your Master did not prepare you for this. He did not give you the tools that you needed."
Always remember verd'ika, that there is a proper tool for every job, and if you don't have it, you're unlikely to be able to get it later, so get as many tools as you can.
"Your Master deliberately withheld so much from you. Things that there was no reason to withhold. Knowledge about your body…"
You have to know what you can do. I'm sorry verd'ika that I can't be more help in this. From what I can tell you're a Nightbrother, and there's just not enough information out there about you. You all keep to yourselves a lot. You're literally the first one I've ever seen, so I can't help. It's a fuck, kid. You're meant to be so much more.
"And always…knowledge about the Sith. Have you ever wondered, Lord Maul…if your Master was not afraid of you?"
I knew a guy who kept Reek on a chain the size of your little finger. Yeah, yours verd'ika, not mine. He was able to do so, because that Reek had grown up with a chain around him for so long, that he knew that he'd never be able to break it. Eventually…he stopped trying.
Maul…had never understood that lesson. Had never understood the way that helmet had looked at him, the way he had felt so…bare beneath a stare that he could not even see.
But he had not been able to ask. His Master had come.
Maul heard no more of what he'd been trying to tell him. Maul heard no more of that voice.
But Maul could not get it out of his head.
Maul was loyal…
…
Maul loved…
…
His Master had raised him.
…
His Master had abandoned him.
His Master had thrown him away.
Maul had failed, but he had been loyal. Maul had cut out his own hearts before on Orsis, he would have been able to again if he had only asked. Why did he not ask?
Why was Maul thrown away?
Why would he have done so much hurt to him when these Jedi started out so weak…
Maul had been beaten. Maul had been beaten by a Jedi, a Jedi that started out as a weak and toddling thing that asked too many questions and had no understanding of the world.
If Maul had been beaten so easily…then what then was the point?
Was Maul not strong?
What was wrong with him?
Why had he been thrown away?
"You know it was not your fault you were beaten."
And Maul listened.
"Lord Maul, I wish for you to understand something: you are lightyears above what you should be. There are Masters that will never attain your skill level in some things – but they have something that you do not."
Maul listened.
"They have experience – and they have tempering."
If you don't temper the vibroblade then it shatters at the first hard blow. It's why you always have to make sure to temper the thing after you make it, verd'ika. There's no use in a shuk'la besbe'trayc.
Was…was that it?
Maul had not been tempered; he had not been…he had not been softened?
Maul had been…sharpened. He had been honed and he had been hardened. He had withstood every single agony and every single thing that had broken his body…but when had his Master ever tempered him? When had he ever let him cool? When had he ever let him…
If Maul was truly meant to be a weapon…
Maul had stood there after pain upon pain upon pain, but…
But a single horn-lock had been enough to buckle him.
But those hands that hooked through his horns had been so nice.
But…
But…
Maul did not understand…and must that then be the cooling that he had never been given?
Must that then be the softness that Maul was missing? And Maul…was missing so much, did not understand so much.
Maul did not understand the voice that looked at him and told him that there was good in this Galaxy.
Maul did not understand Plo… Maul did not understand the way he had always been so gentle, no matter what.
Maul did not understand the voice that called him Little Cousin…
And told him that their place was right there – between him and the thing that wanted to hurt him.
Why had Maul not been taught about these things? If they had the power to reach into his chest and squeeze, why had he not been told?
Why had Maul not been taught about this? Why had he not…
And Maul…could feel it.
In his joints, in the clench of his jaw, in the slow rising of something in the pit of his belly…
Maul…
"I'm sorry, Lord Maul."
I'm sorry, ad'ika. I'm sorry I…
"You deserved better."
Maul was beginning…
"You deserved to be a child, to be given the skills, the knowledge to understand what is meant by a soft word and a soft touch, by gentle apologies and the understanding that you can apologize, that it should not be begging. That you should be taken care of, that you should not be hurt. That you should not have to submit on your knees and grovel."
Maul was beginning to get…
"Lord Maul…when all of this is over, when you find that you can care again, I wish for you to understand one thing – and that is that you do not need to apologize. You do not need to beg, and you do not need to feel as though you are weak. But you must understand…"
You are strong, verd'ika. Never forget that, even when you think you're licked you always come back out – and you always come back out meaner. You can go through so much and I want you to know something…
"Your Master is not the one that has given this strength to you."
You come by that on your own. There are kids out there in this Galaxy that would have buckled under what you have been put through, you should have buckled. But you decided not to. I'm not gonna lie, verd'ika – sometimes I think with that will of yours you'd be able to survive being cut in half.
Maul was beginning to get…
Angry.
But it was not enough.
It was not enough just yet.
And Maul could not force it to ignite, could not force it to spark when he was so utterly trapped in voices and memories and things that he had pushed down and down and down and down, like so much of himself had been pushed down. At the will of his Master and his Master…
Maul was afraid.
Maul was so afraid, so afraid, so empty and so afraid.
His Master would see. He would know. If Maul took the hand that was on offer, if he followed them…
Maul had cut out his hearts before.
Maul would do it again.
He would do it again and again and again and again and he would stand at the end and he would…
The tiny voice had come back again. The small voice, the one that claimed kinship and understanding.
"I'm sorry…"
The small voice said, and there were no more tears.
Good.
"I should have…I know they say that…that it helped you. That this…helps you. But I…I shouldn't have…I did not mean to order you."
Maul followed orders. Maul followed orders to become strong.
You must become strong in every way.
"I wish…I wish that you were able to do something just because they asked…because I asked. But…but I understand why it… It's so hard sometimes, isn't it?"
…Maul did not feel very strong.
"Sometimes it's like…they'll say something and it's in just that tone and…and it hurts, you know? Sometimes it hurts because the only thing I can think of… The only think I can think of is Watto, and it hurts, you know? I don't want to think about that. I don't want to connect to that, but it's so easy. Tiq says it's because it's what I know, that I shouldn't…feel upset that sometimes it happens…"
You must learn to overcome pain.
But Maul was pain.
"I don't want to upset you too much, Maul, so I think…I think I'm going to change the subject…just because I know that you can hear me, and I don't…I don't want to hurt you more than…"
The small voice trailed off.
"…Tiq explained what's happening. How…how your mind basically retreated, that you're thinking, and processing and you can understand everything and that… That you had been so hurt before that it was only a matter of time. He had hoped that it wouldn't lead to this, but…but he says that you're doing so well. Did you know that your presence in the Force just vanished? You just vanished, Maul, and none of the Jedi know how you did it. Isn't that wild? You'll…I want to know if you could teach me, but…they're saying it might be a Sith trick. I don't care, you're hiding from the entire Council! How cool is that! You have to be really strong in the Force to do that, particularly with the Collar, though they think it's probably connected to Teräs Käsi as well…"
Someday, you might become stronger than I.
"I'd like to learn that, too, that sounds…it sounds neat, and they're talking about how you might be one of the best in the Order… Though I guess that's meant to kill Jedi isn't it, so maybe that's not a good idea…and probably not all that surprising that you'd know how to do it…ha."
You'd like that, wouldn't you?
"Do you like to do anything other than fighting? I found out that I really like swimming…"
[I want to go for a swim.]
Maul flinched.
"There's so much water here, it's insane! At first…at first, I felt kind of bad, because…because to have so much, and they use it for so many things! There's an entire room of fountains! And I thought it was just…just so wasteful. But it's all recycled, isn't that amazing? All the water is connected, and I think it's…it's beautiful. I wish I could show you…"
To be stronger than I?
"It's weird to think sometimes…that a slave boy from Tatooine could get all this… And I want to share with you…you deserve to see it, too."
[I was a slave…]
Maul would not think about [her.]
Maul would not think about [her.]
He could not, he could not, not even like this, and he knew there was a sound of distress and he thought…he thought it might be coming from him.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, um…I…I'll get Tiq, Tiq can help. Tiq is…Tiq is good."
I'm sorry, ad'ika. I'm sorry I wasn't…
The small voice left.
Maul could breathe.
Maul did not…
Maul was so tired. If Maul was so strong. And they all called him strong. They all called him…
You were just an infant, and yet the most powerful beings on Dathomir were afraid of you.
But if that was so…
Maul closed his eyes. He did not open them. He did not listen. He did not move until he was ordered to.
Maul drifted.
Maul was exhausted.
Maul followed orders.
Maul did nothing else.
Maul came to slowly at the feeling of fingers on his horns, gentle, gentle…
"We have to file them down again, Lord Maul. Can you hear me? Tiq said you seemed to have retreated deeper than usual, but I'm not comfortable just…"
Maul did not understand.
"It has to be done, though. I'm going to start with the back of your head again, alright?"
Maul said nothing, but he did feel the scrape of the file, the slow easing of the discomfort that he had not even noticed until it was removed slowly.
"I think sometimes about how isolating it must have been sometimes, growing up the way you did. But you were under the Rule of Two, weren't you? In a way there was no one else that could be with you because you were driven to that isolation… Next horn."
There are others who use the Force.
"I grew up in the Temple, surrounded by others. That you would be a practitioner in Secret, though, explains how well you are able to shield yourself in this manner. Though I personally believe there might be a level of innateness to it. You are a Nightbrother, after all, and your home planet is not…well…the idea that it would be a defense mechanism makes sense. Next horn."
But they are not…
"I would like to show you the whole of the Temple eventually. To let you in the gardens, to see the fountains that young Anakin has become so fond of. You deserve to be able to enjoy these things that you have been kept from… Next horn… I wonder sometimes that you even know what you have been stripped from, but I do not ever doubt your capacity to understand… Next horn… I know that you are very bright. I've heard of some of your other conversations, and while we still would like to get a full understanding of your intelligence, there is little doubt that you are very smart. I really do think you would like the Archives."
Like…
"…I did want to say thank you…"
Us…
"You might not understand why, and I can myself understand, but…the very first time you let me do this, you did not do anything to hurt me, or to fight. I was very proud of you then…"
Well done.
I commend you.
"I still am, honestly. I could talk about strength…but I want to talk about something else. I want to talk about your kindness, about the way you handle those younger than yourself, and frankly…that impressed me. You might not believe me, or think that it matters, but Maul…for you to have been so good with Ahsoka, even if you did not understand, or thought that she was…"
You do not hurt kids. Kids and those weaker than yourself. That is beneath you in every way and those who do…demagolka, the lot of them, disgusting and vile… You are better than that. You have ijaat, verd'ika. You wouldn't hurt a child.
"I'm very proud of you."
Maul felt the keratin as it was pulled away, felt his horns no longer hurt… How long had it been?
Maul did not care.
"I'm going to rub this oil on them. I've discovered that what is happening here is that you have a tendency to dry. It's a common problem in younger Zabraks who are still growing and might continue to follow you, but this will help to keep the keratin stronger and keep it from itching. It's going to be a bit cool, but it should warm up quickly…"
The sensation was strange but the answer of why it was happening…
Another tool in your box, verd'ika.
That was worth knowing. That was good.
"There we go…I'm going to put it in the refresher. Every two days you need to apply it."
It was an order.
Maul would follow it.
Maul was tired…
There were so many orders…
Sith and Jedi and ones given to him. Personal orders and had he not followed so many.
So many.
"But I'd like you to do it as a request. Just because it would be better for you. And frankly orders upset me."
…
Maul did not understand.
Maul was tired.
Maul listened to the voice that continued talking to him and wondered again at the difference.
And Maul…wanted.
Maul wanted to understand, and it was joining with that anger. Maul was beginning to want.
Maul was beginning to feel it in his hearts and in his throat.
Stronger than me…
Maul would like that. Maul would like to be…
Maul would like to be free.
[My owners are dead… I killed them all.]
Maul was not a Slave. Maul was…
But Maul was…no longer an Apprentice.
And if Maul was no longer an Apprentice…then what was he? What could he be? What was left for him?
Maul was a Zabrak that did not know what it was to be a Zabrak. He did not know his own body; his toolbox was empty… Was he therefore even really a Zabrak? Was he able to call himself something he did not understand?
Maul was exhausted. He was exhausted and he just…
"I know it must seem like a lot sometimes, Lord Maul, but I promise you it is not insurmountable. I will help you. I'll answer all of your questions, any of your questions. You will learn who you are."
No, Little Cousin, our place is here…
Maul drifted.
Maul drifted.
Maul did not know what he was anymore. Maul did not know.
Toolbox. His Toolbox was filled with so many things but nothing he needed. There had been no tempering.
Maul had shattered.
Maul had lost.
Maul was…nothing. He did not have a culture, Maul had never gone to Dathomir, did not even believe the markings on his skin were reflective of what he was supposed to be.
How could they be? They were – as in all things – something he had won, something placed upon him by his Master.
His Master had branded him.
His Master had marked him and named him and sent him to Orsis, and he had taught him the Force, he had taught him the ways of the Sith, had called him a Lord of the Sith, claimed him as his Apprentice and sent him to Naboo.
His Master had stripped all of this from him, and the only chances Maul had had to be anything else…to…
Maul remembered a helmet placed in his hands by a teacher that had taken his own off for the first time since Maul had known him. Maul had never seen that face before and was almost more fascinated by that then the helmet he was holding – the one with the horn-caps that were meant to go over his own, the visor the…the…
Maul had stared at the face of Meltch Krakko for the first time.
And seen him for the second and final time dead at his own hands, following the will of his Master. Maul had followed his orders and destroyed…
Maul had not known what Meltch was trying to give him. Maul did not know why he had stared at him, why he hadn't even raised a hand to fight, did not understand what he said.
[Maul did not know why she had not fought either.]
Maul…Maul had not known.
But…but…
"Unfortunately, we did not have any black, but this can be changed, I am sure…"
"You will be taken care of."
"A good question."
"Speak, you can, delighted I am. And a good question, this is!"
"It is, after all, what you would find safe. I would not wish to guide you, Lord, in choosing your own mind."
"Your lightsaber is really cool."
"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."
"I have never read a more beautiful tale."
"That sort of love and selflessness is shown all over the Galaxy…"
"I wished to apologize."
"I'll be your friend! You can be my friend, Maul!"
"We just want to help you, please let us help you."
"No, Little Cousin…our place is protecting you."
They…would know.
And hadn't they offered again and again and again and… Free him, they kept saying. Free him. Let him make the choice. Stand in front of him and keep him…keep him safe.
(when they could not even save themselves)
Stronger than me.
But if he let himself… Maul had already decided that the pain that had been inflicted upon him had been for nothing.
Maul had already decided that he himself was nothing.
He was not Dathomirian. Not Zabrak. Not Sith.
He was a shuk'la besbe'trayc.
Maul had broken at the first hard swing. And now he was lying there shattered.
How was he supposed to move from this? How was he supposed to walk? There was so much that had already been done for him and to him, how could he ever turn his back on any of them? Maul was…chained. Maul had been chained like that Reek and he did not know how to get out of it, he had been given so many opportunities, and he had either not known how to step out of it, or known that he could, or that he even should.
Maul did not know what Meltch had called him when Maul had stared at him, dripping the blood of his classmates, his teachers, [her].
Maul did not know why he said sorry.
Why he did not fight.
Maul was exhausted. He was exhausted at the idea of fighting. He was exhausted at the idea of standing up and moving, of breaking this chain he had no idea was even there… Maul was meant to be Sith, but he had no passion.
Maul had nothing.
He drifted.
"Such fear you have…"
Maul…Maul was fear. Fear was meant to be his ally.
Fear bound him here.
"Such fear and such sorrow for one so young, for one so bound. A terrible terrible thing has been done to you in the name of power. Sacrificed you have been upon an altar of lies. A weapon created and discarded. More than a weapon you are. More than a weapon you can be."
Maul…did not know how. Maul did not know how.
Maul did not know how to change, to be something else, to be…
Someone.
Not something. Not a weapon. Not a tool. Not something crafted and wielded and thrown away.
Maul…was afraid.
"He has spent so much time creating that fear in you. Has built it in you to the point where it is innate, where it is under every breath you take, waiting to rise up and catch you within its throes. But you do not have to be afraid."
Was that it?
Was that the chain?
"It must be so frightening. I cannot imagine what it is like to suddenly find yourself with the option of making a choice. With being suddenly thrown away…but you are not as broken as you likely think. You are young. Your formative years have been taken and they have taken you and made you hard, and they have been cruel, but they are not the only things that make you."
Maul knew fear. He had grown up with fear. He had learned fear and how to make it…
Fear was his ally.
"You can learn Lord Maul. You can learn and you can grow, and you can be, but I can understand why it must seem so difficult a thing. Force, Maul, you had a growth spurt while you were in prison. Your body decided it was safe within a prison. Surrounded by what was meant to be your enemies… You did not grow with your Master. What does that tell you?"
Fear…fear was…
Fear was the ally his Master had given him. Fear was what he had latched onto, the desperate clinging of something that Maul had grown up with for so long…
"Your Master has lied to you. Your Master was so cruel to you. Tearing you apart with Sith Lightning…and what a terrible thing to do to a child…
(Do you know how many people can say they ru'murcyur by a Storm?)
What an awful ugly thing to do to someone so young, who relies on you for everything.
(That is beneath you in every way and those who do…demagolka, the lot of them, disgusting and vile… You are better than that. You have ijaat, verd'ika.)
It is little wonder that you are filled with such fear it feels like you cannot move… But he lied. He lied. Your Master, even if he is alive, even if I did not shoot him down and he did not burn in atmosphere…your Master is not infallible. Your Master can be wrong. He was wrong about you. He was wrong to hurt you. He was wrong to throw you away when he was the one that broke you."
His Master…made him strong…
(His Master made him fear.)
"Never forget who trained you. Never forget the way he refused to temper you, to give you the softness you needed. And you needed it, Lord Maul. You needed that softness because you were just a child, just a little boy. You needed to learn how to be soft because it can and has caused so much confusion. So much fear. So much hate. Think about how little you understand. You know so much, and I know you do, but you know so much less than you should – and your Master is the one that stole that from you."
His Master made him strong he made him…brittle – Maul had shattered at the first hard blow.
Maul had shattered.
Maul did not want to be shattered.
Maul did not want to be broken.
Maul was angry.
"You deserved so much more, and we…we cannot train you as a Sith. Not even necessarily because we wish to strip you of being a Sith, but because we do not know how. You will be taking a very large step away from what you know, but we still mean to give you access to the Holocrons. We still mean to give you a choice, to let you choose…"
(Maul was afraid).
"And I know…that must sound so frightening as well, but I promise it is something that you can do. I promise that the act of choosing is…difficult at first. But it is worth all of the fear. It is worth all of the possible mistakes you can make. It is worth all of the agonies of indecision, because you are making them. You are free to make them."
Maul…was not free.
Maul wanted to be free.
Maul wanted to be free, he wanted to…he wanted to… Maul did not know. But he…but he could find out.
Maul could…
Maul could Choose.
Maul had never been able to choose.
"There are…so many things for you. The Galaxy is so big, and you have so many things to see and to experience in it, free of your Master's influence, because even if he is alive, even if he does still live – ultimately your Master should fear you. Your Master should fear what he has created, because you have the tools to become something dangerous and something powerful and something great. You also have the tools to be kind, and this…cannot be ignored. You Darth Maul, have been very kind to the ones beneath you, even if you do not know what this is or what it means."
You do not hurt kids.
Maul…wanted to choose.
Maul wanted…to wake up.
Maul wanted to see.
"You have honor, Lord Maul," Tiq said, looking directly into his eyes that he still could not blink. "And it is honor that your Master does not have. You are already…in so many ways, better than your Master will ever be."
Maul…was afraid.
"I am sorry, Darth Maul…" and it was…
It was Plo.
(I am sorry, ad'ika. I'm sorry I wasn't enough.)
"I am sorry (ad'ika) that there's all this pain inside of you," Plo said softly. "All of this fear bottled up inside of you and I just…I wish I could take it away from you. But I think ultimately that would do too much damage to who you already are, and you will find that we are fond of that person."
Maul…wanted…
"You deserve to be shown that there is more to life than being a weapon. You deserve to be able to be so much more and I'm sorry (I wasn't enough) that it has been kept away from you for so long, and I am sorry (ad'ika) that you have been so utterly betrayed by the one that should have taken care of you, should have raised you properly. And it must be so frightening to reach out again when you have never known a kind touch, must have rarely known a kind word… (I did not want to prolong your pain. The most powerful people on Dathomir were afraid of you. You have ijaat, verd'ika.) But I know that you can do it. I know that you are brave. I believe in you, Darth Maul."
Maul wanted to know…
Maul wanted to know what enough was.
Maul wanted to know what he had missed.
Maul wanted to know what he was missing.
Maul wanted.
He wanted he wanted he wanted he wanted.
Maul burned.
"I believe in you perhaps more than you yourself do, and that is because I know what it is that I am seeing, and that is someone who has gone through so much and has so far refused to buckle. That is admirable. You are admirable. You are strong and though you don't know it, Darth Maul, you are in possession of great power. You have the power to change, the power to choose, and it is a power your Master will likely never have. Your Master has committed…his choices are his own, and he has shown that he will continually make the wrong ones. The ones that lead to a boy chained by fear and lies…you can break them, Darth Maul. You are the only one that can make that decision. You are the only one who can take the step, can make the leap. And this, Lord Maul…is then your first choice. The first one is always the hardest, the scariest, but once you make that first one… The rest get easier and easier, and this is something that I promise you. You can do this."
Maul…
Could not yet move.
Maul burned, he wanted it so badly it hurt, but that chain (that fear) still bound him so tightly.
And then…
They began to leave.
And Maul was slowly aware of the others. Was aware of Eeth and Yoda and Mace and Tiq still staring at him after his speech, and then standing as well…and Plo… Plo was there, was kneeling before him, was staring at him and he was…
Maul did not understand the way he was looking at him.
Plo stood then, turning to follow, and Maul…did not want him to go. Maul did not want him to go, he did not want him to leave, he…he…
Maul needed to move.
Maul needed to prove them right. Maul needed to prove his Master wrong, needed to show him that he had been wrong to throw him away, that Maul could be so much more.
Maul needed to
Break.
His.
Chain.
Maul could no longer fear.
Maul had to make Plo stop.
Maul had Passion, Maul had Strength, Maul had Power…
Maul would have Victory.
Maul still did not feel the Force within him, but it did not matter.
Maul would break his chains.
Maul…
Stood.
And
Took
A
Step
And
Another
And
Another
And
Another
And the Guards had seen they had watched, there was a slow and steady stiffening, the others beginning to turn but Maul did not care and he was close enough now and Maul just wanted Plo to stop, and did not know how, could not say how and his body…
Was still a weapon.
Maul fell against the Jedi, his arm coming up around his neck, a thumb threatening to stab into his exposed throat with his claw and his other hand snaking around to hold that mask that he had marked as a weakness so long ago, but Maul…
Did.
Not.
Pull.
Maul breathed.
Plo had stopped, the Jedi had turned, their eyes wide, their expressions so shocked and Maul breathed, and softly, in a voice that was so rough and so hoarse he did not recognize it,
"I am sorry," he rasped, "I do not know what else to do." He breathed, feeling Plo as he shook watching as those faces shifted, as they… "Please," he said softly. "Please, I want…I want to understand. I want to know. I do not know how to…not hurt. I do not want…I do not want to hurt. Please help me stop hurting."
And Plo, so softly, so gently reached up, and took the hands that held him there, and slowly removed them. Maul let go, letting Plo turn around to face him, letting him still hold his hands and Maul stared up at that face and he stared at him and…
"I can show you something else to do," he said softly, "I can show you how not to hurt, if you will let me."
Maul hesitated, and then slowly nodded. Maul felt as Plo slowly guided his hands back, slowly wrapped his arms around the Kel Dor's frame, and then slowly…reached down and Plo wrapped his arms around him and then…
He squeezed.
And Maul felt that same electricity, that same jolting shock from the first time his horns had locked with Eeth, the feeling of his body crying out in joy at something he had missed and something he did not know… But Maul knew what this was.
This was a hug.
"Welcome back," Plo breathed, "I missed you." and Maul shuddered, falling into his embrace and he wondered if this, then…is what was meant by enough.
Maul wanted to find out.
Maul thought he would.