Wherein the meaning of Pain is shown, and the true beginnings of the question are asked.

The explanation that Sidious gives Plagueis as to how he found the child is given in the Legends canon - it is not in use here, Sidious is a liar and a thief.

Warnings: ...Oh, manipulation of a child, Plagueis is a snake - but gosh do I love him, STRONG STRONG STRONG child abuse. There is only one source I've seen for what Maul looked like getting his tattoos from his Master and it is. Unpleasant. However! In keeping with the idea that Nightbrothers are marked around Birth and Maul was taken as a babe that did not get marked, we did have to put them on him a lot earlier than they were in said source because he's still got to go to Orsis since it would be sketch if he did not have them. This is a really unpleasant concept.

Plagueis had first taken in the baby held within his Apprentice's arms with idle indifference.

A Force Sensitive Zabrak, a Nightbrother, skin red as blood, and horns already sharp and wicked. Given to Sidious by his mother, hoping to give him a better life, Sidious had explained. She had recognized his Force Sensitive abilities and mistook him for some…Jedi. Someone who would offer her son a hope, a future beyond their borders.

Plagueis…was good at seeing through his Apprentice's lies, and as the lies stacked, his indifference had turned more interested, particularly upon realizing the power within that little life. The midi-chlorians within were…interesting. Perhaps an example of the presence of Dathomir and the way prolonged exposure to the Dark Side could influence, and Plagueis made idle plans to see if he could gain a…specimen. This one, he thought, watching Sidious and the way he held that baby, would likely be off limits.

Sidious' talk of training the boy, of seeing if he could be grown in the ways of the Sith had followed, and Plagueis found himself curious. Plagueis listened to the assurances that he would not be an Apprentice, of course, that their Rule of Two would be kept, and similarly that he would be used as an Assassin to go where they would not… But Plagueis had already decided he would agree.

The influence of the Sith upon what was already Dark and already Arcane would be potentially…

very…

worth…

seeing.

So, without thinking much of it beyond the purely scientific, beyond the application, Plagueis had agreed.

It was only later, seeing the babe in the care of a six-armed droid that held it, that Plagueis began to get the slightest pangs of foreboding.

By the time he realized he should have listened to these feelings…it was really rather too late.

Plagueis had visited next when the boy was three standard years of age, and what he had found… Was more distressing than it ought to have been.

Maul did not walk like a child, did not act like a child, did not even seem to think like a child. His words were even and clipped, even as young as he was, there was no stutter, no stumbling…

The child was…unsettling, and the thought was laughed at, regardless of how true it was.

Even so, the boy was ultimately strong, Plagueis could see that, could see that Sidious had plumbed him since the very beginning for that strength, and those eyes burned with Dark… But Plagueis feared that it was a brittle strength. A strength that would crack and shatter… Plagueis had wondered idly how precisely this all had been done, wondered how Sidious had shaped this child that still had no name, and still had none of the markings he should…

And then he had seen the boy train.

Not simply physically, but the mental training…

And then the question of a Hug.

Plagueis did not consider himself a man who was easily moved. He performed countless experiments on sentients and non… But there was something about this unnerving child that stood too still and nodded as Sidious spoke of how a hug was a weakness… And Plagueis was suddenly given a reason for all of those bad feelings, for it seemed that in Sidious' attempts to drive the ways of the Sith into this small Assassin…

Sidious was not giving the small body room and opportunity to develop in the other ways that were necessary.

It was creating a child that was ultimately too skewed to one side, an experiment with no control… There was danger in this path, and so Plagueis had thought to admonish his Apprentice.

Plagueis ultimately, though, had plans of his own to finish, and the two of them had much work to do. Plagueis still saw the future with Sidious by his side, and so he had not pushed too hard. He had trusted that Sidious would see the truth of his words and try to correct this…imbalance.

This then, was his second mistake.

Plagueis never made three, and so he had instead decided to finally…intervene. Though there was the question of when that intervention would come.

Learning that Sidious had thrown the boy upon the very surface of Mustafar with a broken arm that had not been set, and that the boy had still been given no name in the six years of his existence… Plagueis had thought this would be his moment. Instead…he had found that the child did not need his intervention. It was then that he saw the true power that had been given to him, and once again, that evidence of lack of balance.

The reliance on Hate was too strong…would make him strong but would give him a tenacity that made him reckless and eventually could be used to overtake him.

So, Plagueis had shielded himself, and watched for fifteen days as the little boy made his way back, only collapsing twice for sleep when his body could no longer take it.

Fifteen days. Two moments of collapse…

Plagueis had watched from a distance, taken in as the child was able to overpower the Droid, was able to make his way home at last…

Plagueis watched as Sidious greeted the boy, and finally gave him his name.

Maul. A worthy name…

For a Worthy Apprentice.

Plagueis thought of calling him on it then. Of destroying the title that was forming and making sure that Sidious could not think to usurp him… But ultimately, Plagueis had thought himself that the Rule of Two was meant to end with them. Why not with this one?

And too, there was another idea brewing, another thought that had yet to play out.

Plagueis in this moment…decided to talk to the boy… To Maul.

But Sidious had other plans yet, that apparently involved marking Maul in the way he had meant to be marked… Only, instead of the natural ichors of Dathomir and their magicks…

This was with Sith alchemy and Sith power. A mark of the caste he belonged to.

Plagueis watched as Maul was restrained, as needles were inserted into his skin that had been stripped bare outside of a cloth giving him the barest measure of modesty. The black that pooled was dark and blood-filled and Plagueis watched with something rising in the back of his throat as never once did that child open his lips to scream. Not even when Sidious had left him hanging there, the alchemy left to do its work.

Plagueis, in turn, got to his. Hooded and cloaked as he was, Plagueis was more a pillar of walking shadow and fabric than the Muun he actually was, something he thought might cause Maul to fear, but… Ultimately that would only be to his advantage. He needed for Maul to listen.

Maul sagged in his bonds, fallen into meditation, his body so still, his mind a roaring inferno that burned. And there, fresh before him, were all of the cracks that Sidious' training had left, and Plagueis could see the full extent of what had been done.

Sidious had been too greedy, had not had the patience or the care to truly shift this child, had created something within him that Plagueis could see would only consume…

Plagueis gave a soft sound, drawing Maul's attention up, and watched as burning eyes alighted upon him.

The way Maul attempted to reach out in the Force to hurt him was admirable, but the bonds around his wrists and ankles made such an attempt impossible, to keep him from lashing out against his Master, accidentally, of course. The Sith Alchemy involved in the marks that were covering him was…deeply unpleasant.

"Relax, little Maul," Plagueis said, keeping his voice rich and deep and gentle, watching as Maul blinked, those large eyes not quite in sync with each other, too weak, too hurt. Maul's name off his tongue seemed to nonetheless breathe some measure of life back into the boy, and his look shifted from angry and fearful, to something more curious.

"My name," the boy whispered in that too-cultured accent for that black-marked and bleeding face. "My name."

"Yes," Plagueis agreed. "Your Master awarded it today. I decided it was time that I met you."

"Who…are you, sir?"

There were not many parts of Plagueis that were moved by the pitiful or the hurt. But the parts that were there tugged slightly at the sight of this child hanging suspended, asking a quiet question as though he was standing on his own two feet and looking up into his eyes.

"My name is Darth Plagueis," Plagueis introduced. "I am your Master's Master."

Maul's eyes widened.

"He never mentioned me," Plagueis stated softly.

"No, sir," Maul agreed.

Plagueis nodded slowly and stood, moving over to the sink, and carefully filling a bowl full of water, putting a cloth in the water to soak, before coming back to the child. "Tell me, Maul, what do you think of your Master?"

Maul obviously did not know what to do with this question.

Maul also did not know how to take Plagueis ringing out the cloth carefully and slowly running it over the small face, cleaning away the blood and the lingering black.

The black did not need to absorb back into the system as was commonly thought, which meant that Plagueis was safe to both clean it away, and meant he could spend some time with Maul, to give him the comfort that he needed.

And plant the necessary seeds that could sprout into the beginnings of something…important.

Sidious may have intended for Maul's hunger for contact and warmth to be something only utilized by him, but Plagueis was not above using a very convenient tool when it was left for him.

Maul closed his eyes as the fabric carefully dabbed against them, and they remained closed as Plagueis pulled away, almost instinctively tilting his head towards the feeling. Plagueis hushed him, gently dabbing at the boy's templehorn, carefully collecting the blood and ink that was running towards his nose, repeating it for the other side. Plagueis would be using much water and taking a lot of time, but it was a necessity. The gentle dabbing of the cloth, interposed with the squeezing of it into the drain below for the blood and ink that would not return, and the resoaking of the cloth were the only sounds, before finally, softly…

"My Master makes me strong, sir," Maul said, answering the question that Plagueis had let rest.

Plagueis found his head tilting up slightly, momentarily stuck between amazement and interest.

Well, well.

"And this, young Maul," Plagueis said softly, "do you believe this will make you strong?"

Maul was quiet for a long moment before opening his eyes to stare at him. Those yellow eyes burned, red bleeding out from those irises as they stared at him, "Will it not?"

Plagueis felt the Force in the boy, felt the strength and the power, and felt those cracks widen. Plagueis smiled internally to a boy who could not see. "Yes," Plagueis agreed. "The marks on your skin burn with Sith Alchemy, with power of a different sort. You may find that you have a little talent for it, young one. Your heritage is such that the more…mystical arts will perhaps come more naturally." Plagueis carefully ran the cloth around the bases of those horns, Maul closing his eyes, leaning into the touch instinctively. "Though…" Plagueis trailed off.

Maul opened his eyes after a moment, after Plagueis took his cloth back, after he once again squeezed it out into the drain. "Yes?" he asked.

"Though this is perhaps…not a power you will be taught. And you may find that your strength…will turn brittle."

Maul took this in for a moment as Plagueis carefully wiped at his arms, at his chest. "I do not understand."

Plagueis nodded, "Yes," he agreed. "This is of course, the problem. Do you know why I am doing this?"

"You want something from me," Maul answered.

"Ah," Plagueis smiled, "and what precisely do I want? What do you believe you can give?"

"Whatever it is I will do as you ask."

And that…was a loyalty that made Plagueis quite certain that Sidious was making a mistake.

"All I want from you," Plagueis said softly, "is a conversation. A talk with my…ah, Grand-Apprentice as it were."

Maul was quiet for a moment as Plagueis returned to wiping away the blood that was beading from the tattoos on his forehead, "What is a Grand-Apprentice?"

"A lineage," Plagueis explained softly. "A line from me to you, a line that goes from us all the way back to the one that founded the Rule of Two. To Bane."

Maul took this in, once again closing his eyes as Plagueis gently dabbed at his skin. "Is the conversation satisfactory?"

"Yes, Maul," Plagueis smiled, "it is rather. But let us continue…"

"Very well."

Plagueis found that smile widening. If nothing else, Plagueis had to admit that there was a certain level of fascination that came from watching a child behave nothing like a child should. He ran the cloth over his face again, watching as Maul leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping shut once again. This, though, was expected. You could not deprive a child of so much and foolishly believe that no one else would hit upon it. You could not remove a child's basic needs and not expect for there to be consequence.

Those cracks, this slow shattering…

"Do you know what it is to be brittle?"

Maul was quiet for a long moment, "My arm is supposed to be brittle," Maul said softly. "It was just reset and healed," he explained, looking to it. "It means it is…easier to break?"

"Yes, that is a good definition, very clever." Plagueis leaned back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Tell me, Maul," he asked softly, "is this a reward or a punishment?"

Maul stared at him, those eyes blinking, lingering closed before he stubbornly opened them once again, licking the blood and ink from his lips and finally spitting it to the ground below. "Sorry," he whispered. Plagueis waved a hand in open forgiveness. Maul remained quiet and still for a long moment, his eyes slipping closed, thinking clearly, and finally, softly, "My Master has claimed me as an Apprentice," he said, "he has deemed me strong, and will only make me stronger. This then is a reward."

Plagueis smiled. "More pain to draw upon," he noted quietly, "more agony to fill your cup until it runneth over… Spilling upon everything around it. Tell me, Maul, are you sure that you can contain all that is being placed within that cup?"

Maul stared at him for a long moment before slowly shaking his head, "I do not understand. What is…what is the cup?"

"You," Plagueis said softly, "your soul, your mind, your body, the sum-total of your existence, and in this case, what has been put in it. Tell me Maul, if I were to ask you what…ah, the purpose of a kiss was, or the embrace of another, what would you call them?"

Maul was quiet for a moment, those eyes blinking slowly, "Weakness," he answered softly. "Signs of weakness for a people that do not understand true strength or power, that are afraid of being alone, and too weak to face the things that will ultimately make them strong on their own."

Plagueis laughed, unable to help it, for a moment so caught up by the twisting of the mind before him that it sprung to his lips unbidden. Sidious truly had lived up to his name… Plagueis had chosen it well. "Maul," he said softly, "if that were so, why would your Master indulge in either? Why would so many act upon them, and why would you lean into my touch as though you crave it…even though we both know that you are strong?"

Maul stiffened, staring at him with eyes that were once again afraid and Plagueis hushed him.

"Your body is doing what it must, Maul," Plagueis said gently. "This is not a weakness. This is, however, a point. You are loyal to your Master."

"Yes," Maul answered immediately.

"Then why does your Master create such an imbalance in you?"

Maul blinked.

"You cannot sustain on pure pain and hate, child," Plagueis said, his voice gentle, soft. "You cannot sustain on a lack of touch. On a lack of compassion. Eventually, Maul, you will burn out, or worse, crack and shatter. Your Master, Maul, is making a grave mistake. And I must assume…he is doing it on purpose."

There was a long pause, Maul watching him quietly, those eyes so wide, and Plagueis took a moment to once again dab at the ink and the blood gently, waiting patiently as Maul properly formulated his thoughts. Plagueis was patient. These were, after all, concepts that Maul would never have thought of before. The soil was ready, but it would take time to grow. Plagueis watered the seeds carefully with gentleness and care.

"Why?" Maul asked softly after a long moment of silence.

"That is of course, the question is it not?" Plagueis smiled. "Why would he do something to you when you are loyal? Is it perhaps…accidental? Your Master is inexperienced and simply doing the best he can to create the proper Sith warrior, but making some truly devastating mistakes… Or, Maul, is he doing it because he is ultimately purposefully creating some…truly debilitating cracks in your mental fabric?"

Maul was quiet for a long moment. "I do not understand," he whispered, "I am loyal…I…"

"You love him," Plagueis said softly, giving a word that the child needed to know. "You are devoted to him. He is the man who has raised you, who has made you strong. You would do anything for him, would you not?"

"…Yes," Maul whispered.

"Then why would he betray you?" Plagueis shook his head. "Truly, child, this is a question that I think you must ask. Though…unfortunately it is one that I am going to have to let simmer within you."

Maul stared at him, "what do you mean?"

"I am sorry, Maul, that it must be this way," Plagueis said, and found that a part of him meant it. "Your Master is meant to keep your status secret from me. And I believe ultimately that these fears I have are…unfounded, but nonetheless, should be acted upon." Plagueis laced his fingers together, watching him quietly. "I am going to hide these memories from you, and ultimately your Master. If I am wrong and my worries are foundationally incorrect, then you can look back at these as the paranoia of an old fool who let his fear get the best of him. It happens among Sith often, and it is something that you will need to guard against, similarly to your overreliance upon Hate and Pain. There are more emotions to draw upon, more passions that you can use to create power. But…if I am correct…" Plagueis smiled. "It is always good to have a back up plan. And I believe that much of these…imbalances can be…corrected."

"But…" Maul swallowed, "what if you're wrong? What if he…what if it is…accident and I am…and I am…"

"Child," Plagueis said, and his voice was softer than it had yet been, reaching out with a gloved hand to stroke the face there so tenderly, feeling as Maul leaned against his touch, his eyes closed, nuzzling his face into his palm instinctively, unthinkingly, "if I am wrong, if these fears are unfounded…these imbalances can still be corrected. I will not leave you broken. You will stand beside us like you ought, and I will show your Master the true extent of his…oversight. Either way… you will come out of it whole. The only question is the number of us at the end."

Maul opened his eyes when Plagueis drew away, almost frantically trying to bring his face back into that touch, pulling in ways he ought not. He slumped into his bonds with a bit-off sound of pain, trembling, and Plagueis shushed him. He ran his fingers against that head one more time, gave a quiet whisper of, "sleep, child," and sent Maul off into a doze.

Plagueis sat there for a moment, drawing the Dark to him in preparation, centering himself, and reached into Maul's mind, finding the memory, the imprint of himself, and slowly hiding it away.

By the end…it was like Plagueis had never been there.

Plagueis hid the evidence of his presence and took a singular sample of blood. Maul may be out of bounds for any particularly…invasive experiments, but there was still much that blood could give him.

And if ultimately, Plagueis' machinations granted a singular seed of insecurity, a fear of his position with his Master and a desperate need to prove himself…

Well.

It wasn't that hard to call it Pride and tie it to the mistakes that his Master had made in his training.

This was Sidious' fault to begin with… It would simply be up to Plagueis to fix it.