Obdurate Heart – IX
Moving along. Chapter's not short as crap this time. :D
"The mysterious is always attractive. People will always follow a vail."
-Bede Jarrett
The more Obi Wan meditated, the more visions seemed to take hold over him. Just as the calm would stretch over his mind, banishing all anxieties and releasing all tensions, he would find himself lost in a pit of flashbacks to both reality and dream. This frustrated him immensely. He should be able to go about his day unbothered by things that had already or had in fact never happened. His dreams should not be so unsettling. Qui Gon had not died, Obi Wan had not been left alone, and the enigmatic Maul was safely in custody. Frivolous dreams and visions had never caused him so much anxiety.
As he went to pour himself a cup of herbal tea, he momentarily gave up on his quest to find some inner peace. There was really no point in beating himself to death about it, and yet, at the same time he wondered if his worries would do that anyway. Qui Gon had been participating in affairs that, when explained to his Padawan, seemed arduous and inane to comprehend, but suffice it to say that the two had not been much on interacting terms as of late. He did wish that his master were here to speak with. Qui Gon was the only man in the galaxy he would dare share his open thoughts with, and he couldn't help but feel the need to do just that. Perhaps he knew how to achieve a deeper level of insight that would allow him to at last control his nerves. Qui Gon, however, was content in his confidence for his apprentice's abilities, so much so that it almost seemed as though he trusted Obi Wan to complete this given task plainly unsupervised. While his trust was warming, it was in no way something to draw aid from.
Obi Wan gulped down his tea in a hurry and then sat in a chair, now with nothing to do but think when simply meditating was such a difficult thing. Four words haunted his thoughts. Maybe you'll see now. Maybe you'll see, maybe you'll see. He did not know what Maul thought it was he should see. It should not matter, but he was so very puzzled by the inclination that it might, to at least one. He rubbed his chin uneasily and slouched back into his chair. He was a fool, he knew this. No other self-respecting Jedi would allow such a flippant comment to offset him so. He wondered just how much longer Maul would remain under his 'care', if it could be called that. It couldn't be much longer. This event had to rank as rather dire on the scale of the Council's affairs. Maul should be questioned soon and taken quickly thereafter to whatever imprisonment his crimes entitled him to. Obi Wan just hoped that his stress over this situation could be taken away as easily.
However, there was something to be said for that which concerned him. What if when Maul was taken away, those anxieties remained? What was he to do then? He wanted answers to questions that he could not fathom, and there was really no source to obtain them from. It disturbed him to think that this would bother him indefinitely. Distressed and fed up with having nothing but his thoughts to deal with, Obi Wan decided that he would visit his prisoner for a second time today. It was diligent, if he could convince himself it was out of anything but the longing for distraction. He walked a bit hurriedly. The guards had better be at their post this time, he decided.
As Obi Wan approached the first guard, he was met by an aura that exuded much more calm than it had in his previous visits. Clearly they were getting used to having Maul as their captive, having gotten past the reputed enormity of their prisoner's infamy to see him for the mortal man he was. He did notice, however, that there appeared to be more guards congregated outside than had initially been posted. "Sir Kenobi." Nodded the guard when he spotted the Jedi in training.
"Did you change numbers?" Obi Wan queried, eying about at the extra bodies present.
"No." the guard replied. "I was unsure if it warranted direct report, sir, but the prisoner's condition seems to be on a slight decline."
"Decline?" Obi Wan repeated, confused. "What do you mean?"
"He's been sleeping most of the day. His strength looks to be wearing." The guard clarified.
"Did you inform the medic?" Obi Wan asked.
"It wasn't thought to be as serious."
Obi Wan sighed. "Well has he been eating?"
There was a rather long pause in the guard's reply for Obi Wan's comfort. "I'm sorry sir, I don't know."
"You don't know?" Obi Wan furrowed his brow. "Either he has or he hasn't, is his tray empty or full when it's retrieved?"
"I'm not certain, sir…that is to say, we haven't brought anything to him." Came the reiteration.
"What?" Obi Wan stared at the guard for a moment. "You meant to say you haven't fed him today?"
The guard looked to one of his fellowmen for a brief moment in confusion. "Nor any other, sir."
Obi Wan gawked. "Why?"
"…We were never instructed to, sir."
"You needed instruction to—" Obi Wan caught himself before he erupted in disbelief. "Am I to take from that that he hasn't received food or fluid since his awakening?"
"I don't know, sir." The guard replied helplessly.
Obi Wan quickly felt a cold pit of guilt in his stomach. This wasn't the guards' fault. It wasn't commonplace for them to oversee such affairs. The guards employed in the day could have only assumed that he was taken care of at night, if they bothered to wonder, and the night guard must have thought the opposite. How could he have been so ignorant? To not know that all aspects of Maul's care fell directly under his jurisdiction? He had been too blind to bother contemplating who was taking care of these minor details, but he should have realized it sooner. It was supposed to be him. Those minor details such as why no one had bothered to give Maul clothes, or why the guards seemed to be so unorganized. It was simply because Obi Wan himself was lacking in his task. He instantly felt horrid. Not nearly as much for Maul's sake as he did for the sake of his neglected responsibilities, but horrid all the same.
"From now on I want him to be fed twice daily, and given water regularly, is that perfectly clear?" Obi Wan sputtered.
The guard nodded swiftly. "Shall I send one of the others to fetch something now?"
"No, I…I'll do it myself." Obi Wan rubbed his brow in stress and turned to find something suitable…
This surely had to be the worst of his follies, he thought as he carried a tray of food and drink back to Maul's quarters. Why hadn't Maul said anything? Did he think he was deliberately being withheld nourishment to break his resolve? That was the most plausible reasoning. But surely Maul was knowledgeable of Jedi methods; he should not assume he was being intentionally starved. Well it didn't really matter what he thought, Obi Wan concluded as he went past the guards and entered the room, peering in.
There were no longer guards within the chamber. Only Maul, who was sitting up just a little on an elbow and glaring off aimlessly into space. His breath seemed a bit labored, and he very warily noted Obi Wan's presence, though a tad delayed in doing so.
"Lord Maul." Obi Wan nodded a solemn greeting as he approached.
Maul said nothing, only staring darkly as he attempted to push himself further up off the bed.
Obi Wan cleared his throat, eyes flickering down to the tray a moment before he came to the bed and set it down. "You have my sincere apologies, it was a mistake that you had not been fed."
Maul's eyes traveled to the tray, but locked back up to Obi Wan's indignantly. "What makes you think I want that?" he asked in a rumble.
Obi Wan hesitated. "…Your health is waning."
Maul narrowed his eyes, snorting a short chuckle of disbelief. "Your concern is touching."
Obi Wan was not impressed. "It is my duty to see that you return to full health."
"A grand job you've done of it so far." He grunted back. "In any case, I don't need your damn pity." He pushed the tray away with a hand.
"My reasons for this are far from pity. The faster you're well, the faster you can be dealt with." Obi Wan imparted quickly.
Maul swallowed in order to growl properly.
"There's no pride in suicide." Obi Wan continued bluntly. His nerves were strung again. What was he to do if the difficult prisoner refused to eat? Could he procure the means to force intake through intravenous methods? Would things really get that drastic? They needed answers, and Maul obviously had them. So he supposed they very well could if Maul insisted upon being so stubborn. "Please drink." He uttered at last.
Maul vibrated with resentment, but seemed to be satisfied at least with having made a Jedi plead. He slowly took the cup that was given and forced down a swallow that he, though hiding it, was clearly struggling with. "And what else?" he snapped immediately, staring at Obi Wan with impatient distaste. "Leave me."
"I shall take leave in time." Obi Wan replied. Truth be told, he wondered if staying around long enough would answer some of his inner quarrels, if only by accident.
"I didn't think it in a Jedi's nature to gloat." Maul returned haughtily.
"Gloating has nothing to do with it." Obi Wan replied.
"You're the same as your brethren. You're proud." Maul said this as though it were some scathing blow.
"A Jedi does not feel pride in his own tasks. Only fulfillment."
"He pretends to, yes." Maul countered, refusing to eat, or at least refusing if Obi Wan was going to watch him. "You're oh-so proud of your victory, aren't you? In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you requested this duty."
If you only knew how wrong you were. Obi Wan thought dully. "Despite what you think, I'm in no position to request my obligations." He returned levelly.
"And if you were?" Maul prodded, and Obi Wan was becoming quite annoyed with these questions.
"That is not important. My duty is my duty, and I will do it."
"Scripted. Rehearsed, like any Jedi." Maul snapped, lying back. "I almost expected an original response."
Original response? From him? Why—what did that mean? …Did Maul really see him as different from his fellowmen? The idea disturbed him greatly. He was fast to repress his sudden flutter of apprehension, however, irked with himself for being so on edge. "May I ask you something?" he uttered rather uncomfortably.
Maul scowled, but did not look over at him. "Don't patronize me. As if you truly desire my permission. If it were up to me, no. Get out of my chambers."
"They're hardly yours." Obi Wan denied, forgetting his question in his antipathy. "They're really more mine than they are yours. So if you'd like to end this conversation, you're more than welcome to leave yourself." Obi Wan bit his lip, regretting those words. He should not outwardly mock his prisoner, who could obviously not even sit up much less walk out, for it was childish.
Immediately he felt the anger rise in Maul, practically seeing his skin bristle. And yet, to his surprise, there was also a hint of something else lying in that emotion. Something that was almost like…gratification? He dismissed it and readjusted his stance, returning his expression to a blank calmness. "You're pathetic." Came Maul's belated reply, slurred.
Obi Wan said nothing, taking the comment in stride. It was the nature of a Sith to insult. Maul continued undeterred.
"All you are is an inept little chambermaid."
"You should consider yourself quite flattered, my Lord." Obi Wan said in an irritatingly sweet tone. "Most prisoners are not kept by Jedi knights. Perhaps you should take that as a compliment to your skill."
Maul's eyes gazed over at him with aggravation. "You? A compliment to my skill?" he said this with disgust.
"I should think so, yes. My master is of the utmost esteem. Though I'm sure you understand this." Obi Wan explained casually.
"And so he pawns off his incompetent apprentice on tasks that are usually handled by medics and guardsmen. I see."
Obi Wan was stilled for a moment, instantly inclined to protest, but something holding him from doing so. …That certainly couldn't be the reason Qui Gon had placed him in this position. No. No, of course not. Qui Gon never had anything but good things to say about his Padawan, at least not that Obi Wan had heard when his master was so naturally forthright. But then why, exactly, was he doing this? Did Qui Gon really believe that Obi Wan was the only one fit to watch an incapacitated prisoner? He caught himself before he was stuck in a daze, however, unwilling to let Maul know he had struck a chord. "I don't think I'm the apprentice who was abandoned." He said lightly.
Maul sneered, rolling his eyes and absently prodding at the wound in his side with a hiss.
"Perhaps you might think about allowing the medic to examine you. It is their purpose, after all." Obi Wan suggested.
"And you should be concerned in your own affairs." Maul snapped back, drawing his hand from his side.
"I'm afraid that does fall under my affairs." Obi Wan pointed out. "A medic will be examining you in the morning."
"Then a medic will be destroyed in the morning." Maul returned defiantly, and Obi Wan bit his lip.
"In that case, I'll have you appropriately restrained or sedated, Maul, it's really up to you."
Maul bore his familiarly jagged teeth and his eyes burned, greatly offended by that threat. "Why don't you come over here and take care of it yourself, coward? It was your hand that wrought it."
Obi Wan pursed his lips, frustrated that the idea of getting any closer to Maul did in fact make him nervous. "…Well whether you want it or not, your wounds will be cleaned and kept, starting tomorrow." Was all he could think to say.
"Why do you insist on badgering me?" Maul demanded.
"It's common hospitality to see that you are well." Obi Wan uttered, though his tone was bordering on sarcastic. With that, he turned and left sharply, able to feel a pair of smoldering reddish eyes on the center of his back as he went.