A/N: Domo Arigatou everyone for your wonderful reviews! I very much
appreciate them. Well, we're gradually moving onto a lot less gore, and a
lot more drama; (Did I mention angst?) Some funky flashbacks, and nautical
nonsense. (hehe. Alliteration.) Anyway, onto chapter nine!
Chapter... you know.
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A gush of blood flung itself from his painted lips, and trickled down his chin. He moaned softly, nearly undefinably, and fell hard to his broken knees, unable to stand any longer. The room was no more than a dark haze, like twirling over, and over again many times, then trying to stare at one object alone, and not its twin.
Darth Maul allowed his head to loll against his chest, and saw Raphael's mutilated corpse about four feet in front of him, still bleeding. Oh drat it. Sidious would most definitely not like another man's blood staining his finely polished floors... he'd better clean it up before his master returned home. Where was that silly little cloth? By the council, it was hot in here! Did those stupid droids leave the heat on again? They knew how much he hated to be warm! Oh... wait... wasn't he just going to clean up that mess? What mess? He coughed again. Was he sick?
Anamaria slowly crawled forward through the puddle of the lifeless prince's gore, so that she was but a few feet in front of her comrade's body. His eyes stared sightlessly at the corpse before him, and sweat had begun to veil every inch of his skin. She slowly reached forward with her hand, and felt his cheek. It was burning up.
"Fever..." Even her soft voice echoed loudly through the silent halls. She removed her cloak, and draped it carefully over his quaking shoulders, while he made no usual complaint. His eyes, however, moved to meet hers, and his jaw trembled with febricity. They seemed to want to tell her something, but would not respond, so heavy were their owner's hurts.
"Anamaria..." He mouthed her name, and she held a hand against his lips.
"Shh..." The padawan hushed him gently, and her hand moved to cup his slashed cheek, "I'm right here... you mustn't speak..."
And speak not, he did. Instead, he leaned into her cool, and gentle touch, so sick that he was not in his right mind. If under normal circumstances, that hand would probably be in his mouth, being chewed upon until it was nothing more than a soggy lump. But for now... he enjoyed it.
Anamaria swallowed carefully, and examined his broken, beaten form. The Sith's body had been ravaged by malnutrition, and improper medical attention. If any. He looked so awful, even Death would have refused him passage into the afterlife.
She felt that familiar, pitying instinct closing in around her, and knew her options were limited. The one who had just saved her life was now dying right in front of her, and she was just letting it occur. He needed medicine. And fast.
"Maul..." She said carefully. He obediently snapped out of his trance, and awaited her next order. Anamaria felt like crying. What kind of discipline would it take to make someone THAT responsive? What had Sidious done to him? What had Raphael done to him? She shook it off for the moment, and went back to the task at hand.
"I'm going to help you up... okay...?" He nodded as her left arm slipped under his right, and she caught it with ease, pulling him carefully over her shoulder. The Sith winced hard, but did nothing else.
Who was she? This little girl sitting in front of him. No... not little. Old enough to be considered an adult, but younger than he. She was kind of pretty, too... staring at him, almost like she was... worried? Why? What was wrong with him? Her hand touched his face, kind of... softly. It was strange. And cold. A lot colder than the room. Why didn't somebody shut the damn heat off?! He'd have to have a word with those droids later on... when he felt like moving. He slowly leaned into her hand, like an abused puppy being treated in a benevolent fashion for the first time in its life. Heh... a puppy. He heard his name called, and, like the obedient dog he had been trained to be, waited for her order.
The words were mixed, and slow, and... sort of like flushing them down a toilet. Speaking of toilet; he seriously felt the need to worship that porcelain God right about now; and the movement of pulling him to his feet did him in.
Anamaria clumsily stood with Darth Maul supported fully against her shoulder, his overheated body warming hers, and was quite prepared to walk, when he suddenly jolted, and began to painfully dry heave. Once more, he dropped, but she did not let go of him. Some strange black fluid pumped from his abdomen, mingled absently with blood, and small amounts of bodily fluids, and the padawan began to fear fate's worst.
The Sith suddenly ceased his vomiting, and a cold, dry keening began to take its place. He fell to the ground from his comrade's grasp, clutching at the floor as if he were about to fly away, and his body began to shiver violently. Gold tapered eyes clenched shut as he cried out in torment, hunched over pathetically, and shaking with exhaustion and fear. He had no idea why a tidal wave of searing agony had chosen now to rip fiercely through his whole being, but it hurt. The whole ordeal felt like every separate nerve ending was tearing from its place, and burning to a crisp.
Anamaria fell to her knees before him, and grasped his quaking shoulders forcefully. Another unrequited wail tore from his throat. She immediately regretted making that move, but it was necessary to reach him. Suddenly, he blanched, stopping the cries of torment almost immediately, and his eyes snapped open. A rasping tremor issued from his pharynx, and he struggled to breathe as a thin tendril of blood wove from his way down his chin.
The padawan's face went slack. A strange, gurgling sound was issuing from her friend's slit throat, and he stared at her, panicked into calmness.
"No.. Oh, Jesus, no!" She cried, realizing quickly that he was suffocating. His ebony lips had become a dark shade of gray, and he stared at her wildly, pleading for help. Help she could not give.
"No, no! Oh Jesus, no!" Anamaria repeated, appealing to the Savior for aid. Darth Maul slowly sank into her embrace as she held him, unable to breathe any longer. Oh well. `Tis the fate of a Sith. An accepted fate, nonetheless. At least he could feel a warm and caring touch in the last moments of his pathetic life.
"No! Don't you DARE die, you stupid arse!" The padawan resorted to scolding, "Don't you DARE die!!!"
"He will not die, young Jedi..." A rasping voice issued from the darkness, and Gantu the Khajiit stepped into her line of view. She stared dumbly at him for a moment, unable to say a word. Wasn't this one of Raphael's cronies?
"You saw how the evil prince slit his throat, yes?" The tall cat-man slowly prowled to where the odd couple sat, one nearly about to jump the ledge of death, "Something he poured onto your friend's wound. It is Gattaca's poison. Strong stuff. But he will not die. Watch."
Gantu raised a clawed hand, and smacked Darth Maul's back hard. He jerked forward violently, and Anamaria, thinking that the creature had only finished his master's job, readied the force to blow him away, but froze when a disoriented gag issued from the body below her.
The Sith hurled over, and retched one more time, but disgorging along with most of the said poison: a grossly knotted blob of what seemed to be flesh. Gantu slowly went to the helpless creature's side, and tenderly pulled the Sith into his furred arms. He received little more struggle than a weak cough, and some resistance, but when he lay a hand upon his prisoner's crimson brow, Darth Maul went silent.
"Vehani ewu, Kalaskein... kre domori chalas." //Thank you, Ice Prince... we will never forget.//
Gantu slowly stood with the badly wounded Sith still in his arms, and his emerald eyes rested on the Jedi-in-training. "Come." He said, "I will escort you to your rooms."
Anamaria nodded without a word, and stood beside him. How would Vespasian take the news?
\\=:=//
"I will leave you here, friend. This is the safest place in the castle for him, but you must leave soon. I fear for Kalaskein's safety, and your company's safety, as Shegorad still lives." Gantu let down his cargo slowly, allowing Anamaria to support him on her shoulder. The padawan had no idea how to thank the kind khajiit, but nodded quietly.
"I have never seen a warrior of such small stature live to see such a beautiful day..."
At the girl's confused stare, the cat-man smiled as well as any feline could, and motioned out of the nearest window. She gasped, startled.
Across Gattaca's tree-lined horizon, one golden sun stretched her rays valiantly over the mighty plains for the first time in three years. Prince Raphael was dead, and dead with him also was the plague covering its province. His dream of a darkened world was no more, and, as such, so was the dark.
"Oh..." She breathed, "It's..." Anamaria turned to confess onto their rescuer how beautiful the sunrise was, but Gantu was gone. Like he had disappeared into thin air.
"Marie! What are you doing up so early?" Obi-Wan's voice wafted through the corridor, "We're ready to discuss means of truce with-" He froze, deep eyes locking finally with her injured companion, and his tanned face went slack.
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A/N: *typetypetypetype* NOOO!!! I CAN'T STOP!!!
Chapter... you know.
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A gush of blood flung itself from his painted lips, and trickled down his chin. He moaned softly, nearly undefinably, and fell hard to his broken knees, unable to stand any longer. The room was no more than a dark haze, like twirling over, and over again many times, then trying to stare at one object alone, and not its twin.
Darth Maul allowed his head to loll against his chest, and saw Raphael's mutilated corpse about four feet in front of him, still bleeding. Oh drat it. Sidious would most definitely not like another man's blood staining his finely polished floors... he'd better clean it up before his master returned home. Where was that silly little cloth? By the council, it was hot in here! Did those stupid droids leave the heat on again? They knew how much he hated to be warm! Oh... wait... wasn't he just going to clean up that mess? What mess? He coughed again. Was he sick?
Anamaria slowly crawled forward through the puddle of the lifeless prince's gore, so that she was but a few feet in front of her comrade's body. His eyes stared sightlessly at the corpse before him, and sweat had begun to veil every inch of his skin. She slowly reached forward with her hand, and felt his cheek. It was burning up.
"Fever..." Even her soft voice echoed loudly through the silent halls. She removed her cloak, and draped it carefully over his quaking shoulders, while he made no usual complaint. His eyes, however, moved to meet hers, and his jaw trembled with febricity. They seemed to want to tell her something, but would not respond, so heavy were their owner's hurts.
"Anamaria..." He mouthed her name, and she held a hand against his lips.
"Shh..." The padawan hushed him gently, and her hand moved to cup his slashed cheek, "I'm right here... you mustn't speak..."
And speak not, he did. Instead, he leaned into her cool, and gentle touch, so sick that he was not in his right mind. If under normal circumstances, that hand would probably be in his mouth, being chewed upon until it was nothing more than a soggy lump. But for now... he enjoyed it.
Anamaria swallowed carefully, and examined his broken, beaten form. The Sith's body had been ravaged by malnutrition, and improper medical attention. If any. He looked so awful, even Death would have refused him passage into the afterlife.
She felt that familiar, pitying instinct closing in around her, and knew her options were limited. The one who had just saved her life was now dying right in front of her, and she was just letting it occur. He needed medicine. And fast.
"Maul..." She said carefully. He obediently snapped out of his trance, and awaited her next order. Anamaria felt like crying. What kind of discipline would it take to make someone THAT responsive? What had Sidious done to him? What had Raphael done to him? She shook it off for the moment, and went back to the task at hand.
"I'm going to help you up... okay...?" He nodded as her left arm slipped under his right, and she caught it with ease, pulling him carefully over her shoulder. The Sith winced hard, but did nothing else.
Who was she? This little girl sitting in front of him. No... not little. Old enough to be considered an adult, but younger than he. She was kind of pretty, too... staring at him, almost like she was... worried? Why? What was wrong with him? Her hand touched his face, kind of... softly. It was strange. And cold. A lot colder than the room. Why didn't somebody shut the damn heat off?! He'd have to have a word with those droids later on... when he felt like moving. He slowly leaned into her hand, like an abused puppy being treated in a benevolent fashion for the first time in its life. Heh... a puppy. He heard his name called, and, like the obedient dog he had been trained to be, waited for her order.
The words were mixed, and slow, and... sort of like flushing them down a toilet. Speaking of toilet; he seriously felt the need to worship that porcelain God right about now; and the movement of pulling him to his feet did him in.
Anamaria clumsily stood with Darth Maul supported fully against her shoulder, his overheated body warming hers, and was quite prepared to walk, when he suddenly jolted, and began to painfully dry heave. Once more, he dropped, but she did not let go of him. Some strange black fluid pumped from his abdomen, mingled absently with blood, and small amounts of bodily fluids, and the padawan began to fear fate's worst.
The Sith suddenly ceased his vomiting, and a cold, dry keening began to take its place. He fell to the ground from his comrade's grasp, clutching at the floor as if he were about to fly away, and his body began to shiver violently. Gold tapered eyes clenched shut as he cried out in torment, hunched over pathetically, and shaking with exhaustion and fear. He had no idea why a tidal wave of searing agony had chosen now to rip fiercely through his whole being, but it hurt. The whole ordeal felt like every separate nerve ending was tearing from its place, and burning to a crisp.
Anamaria fell to her knees before him, and grasped his quaking shoulders forcefully. Another unrequited wail tore from his throat. She immediately regretted making that move, but it was necessary to reach him. Suddenly, he blanched, stopping the cries of torment almost immediately, and his eyes snapped open. A rasping tremor issued from his pharynx, and he struggled to breathe as a thin tendril of blood wove from his way down his chin.
The padawan's face went slack. A strange, gurgling sound was issuing from her friend's slit throat, and he stared at her, panicked into calmness.
"No.. Oh, Jesus, no!" She cried, realizing quickly that he was suffocating. His ebony lips had become a dark shade of gray, and he stared at her wildly, pleading for help. Help she could not give.
"No, no! Oh Jesus, no!" Anamaria repeated, appealing to the Savior for aid. Darth Maul slowly sank into her embrace as she held him, unable to breathe any longer. Oh well. `Tis the fate of a Sith. An accepted fate, nonetheless. At least he could feel a warm and caring touch in the last moments of his pathetic life.
"No! Don't you DARE die, you stupid arse!" The padawan resorted to scolding, "Don't you DARE die!!!"
"He will not die, young Jedi..." A rasping voice issued from the darkness, and Gantu the Khajiit stepped into her line of view. She stared dumbly at him for a moment, unable to say a word. Wasn't this one of Raphael's cronies?
"You saw how the evil prince slit his throat, yes?" The tall cat-man slowly prowled to where the odd couple sat, one nearly about to jump the ledge of death, "Something he poured onto your friend's wound. It is Gattaca's poison. Strong stuff. But he will not die. Watch."
Gantu raised a clawed hand, and smacked Darth Maul's back hard. He jerked forward violently, and Anamaria, thinking that the creature had only finished his master's job, readied the force to blow him away, but froze when a disoriented gag issued from the body below her.
The Sith hurled over, and retched one more time, but disgorging along with most of the said poison: a grossly knotted blob of what seemed to be flesh. Gantu slowly went to the helpless creature's side, and tenderly pulled the Sith into his furred arms. He received little more struggle than a weak cough, and some resistance, but when he lay a hand upon his prisoner's crimson brow, Darth Maul went silent.
"Vehani ewu, Kalaskein... kre domori chalas." //Thank you, Ice Prince... we will never forget.//
Gantu slowly stood with the badly wounded Sith still in his arms, and his emerald eyes rested on the Jedi-in-training. "Come." He said, "I will escort you to your rooms."
Anamaria nodded without a word, and stood beside him. How would Vespasian take the news?
\\=:=//
"I will leave you here, friend. This is the safest place in the castle for him, but you must leave soon. I fear for Kalaskein's safety, and your company's safety, as Shegorad still lives." Gantu let down his cargo slowly, allowing Anamaria to support him on her shoulder. The padawan had no idea how to thank the kind khajiit, but nodded quietly.
"I have never seen a warrior of such small stature live to see such a beautiful day..."
At the girl's confused stare, the cat-man smiled as well as any feline could, and motioned out of the nearest window. She gasped, startled.
Across Gattaca's tree-lined horizon, one golden sun stretched her rays valiantly over the mighty plains for the first time in three years. Prince Raphael was dead, and dead with him also was the plague covering its province. His dream of a darkened world was no more, and, as such, so was the dark.
"Oh..." She breathed, "It's..." Anamaria turned to confess onto their rescuer how beautiful the sunrise was, but Gantu was gone. Like he had disappeared into thin air.
"Marie! What are you doing up so early?" Obi-Wan's voice wafted through the corridor, "We're ready to discuss means of truce with-" He froze, deep eyes locking finally with her injured companion, and his tanned face went slack.
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A/N: *typetypetypetype* NOOO!!! I CAN'T STOP!!!