The truth is often what we make of it.

Training as a Jedi, under Obi-Wan's instruction at least, seemed thus far to be little more than attunement, meditation, and anger management.

Maul supposes he expected training as a Jedi to be different from Sith, but the reality of it was that if he wanted his plan with Obi-Wan to work, then he was going to need to make a lot of fundamental adjustments in as short a time as possible. Essentially, he must open his mind to specific weaknesses and allow himself to be guided directly toward something completely new.

It was easy to open his eyes during meditation to look at Obi-Wan and feel the familiar tug of violence and hatred seep into his being. This was not how he wanted things to go. Never in his life had he allowed himself to fall this far, but his options were greatly limited, and this was the only way he could be avenged. Maul would not settle for Obi-Wan's death, it would not bring justice to his brothers and sisters.

Eyes closed and breath steady, Maul reached out for Obi-Wan through the Force, immediately receiving a response.

Instantly, Maul could feel Obi-Wan gauging his mental state, his intentions, some of his memories. It felt like a string yanked out his core of fire and energy and then lowered in a new one that was different, cold and empty. His whole body was shocked from the chill, but nothing about anything had really changed. For just a moment, Maul's breaths no longer felt tired or forced, only present.

As they continued to form a bond, Maul began to hear Obi-Wan's voice, though he knew no actual speaking was involved.

"I know what you intend to do, Maul. You cannot manipulate me to your point of view. You will gain nothing from this."

"Surely," Maul thought back at him, "we've known each other for long enough that you know I can achieve the impossible."

Several moments passed as Obi-Wan considered the truth of that statement. "Your pride is one of many hinderances to your progress. I will aid your attempt to do good, but I feel deeply the dark side's hold on you. It bleeds you. You are afraid of being weak, and you use the passion of that fear to build strength, but the way of the Jedi is not to be afraid at all. Strength is not to be seen as a goal to be worked toward, nor is it something you need. You must let go."

It wasn't possible for Maul to do that. The concept of letting go of hatred would have to mean ceasing to exist. Maul's life had taught him very well that when no one is on his side and he is beaten down until he no longer has any right to keep living, his hatred will always be the only thing that will keep him going. No matter how tiring it may be to hate so much all the time, it was truly the only option he had.

Even if he wanted to let go of it, he wouldn't have anything to replace that deep sense of meaning with.

Maul gazed down, his hands holding Obi-Wan's in a loose grip. The Jedi was in meditation, and his eyes were closed, but Maul could feel himself being intimately observed in this moment nonetheless. Something about the new connection they were forming was deeply uncomfortable. In many ways, Obi-Wan had been somewhat the center of his universe for more than half his life, but it had all been unseen until now. His anger, his regard; it had belonged to him, been his to keep and use to motivate, another tool to use to get stronger. Allowing Obi-Wan to know the true extent of their bond was letting him in on a secret that Maul never intended to share with anyone, perhaps not even himself if the need had not arisen.

Unfortunately, Maul could also see how Obi-Wan had always seen him. It wasn't surprising, in fact it was precisely how he thought he wanted Obi-Wan to feel, though it was highly unpleasant to actually experience, for reasons that were unclear. The contrast was a bit much. Despite the hurt and respect they both held for one another, Maul's emotions were drastic and intense- overpowering when mingling with Obi-Wan's fairly collected view.

The connection began to spill out. Desperately, Maul wanted to be on even ground with Obi-Wan, but they simply were not. He felt so many things toward Obi-Wan and instinctively needed that to be returned. In a plea to understand why Obi-Wan wouldn't just feel something back, he held on and pushed deeper into their bond for answers that weren't there.

Finally, Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes meeting Maul's with a pointed expression. "Let go, Maul. You are allowing your feelings to cloud your mind and get in the way of the very truths you seek. I am not hiding from you."

With a careful breath, Maul nodded in ascent, remembering what he's been instructed him to do when he felt too much at once, trying to ground himself in the present and feeling the force flow through and between them. With a bit of a step back from it, Maul could see now that the connection had become uneven. He'd pushed his intentions at Obi-Wan and tried to yank intentions back toward him instead of allowing them to naturally circle back around. This time, he patiently allowed their bond enough space to be.

Obi-Wan certainly had no shortage of feelings on the subject of Maul. There was a powerful sense of something that Maul knew to have once been pity but had transformed into something of a more genuine compassion and understanding. Much of the emotion Obi-Wan felt about Maul was projected haphazardly as an image of a perpetually irritated wound shared by them both. Perhaps Maul would have found that to be insulting or amusing if he weren't too emotionally vulnerable at the moment to see it as anything but entirely accurate. To Obi-Wan, who caused those wounds and why were not important questions to ask anymore. The only question that could matter now was; Are either of them capable of healing?

Everything he'd thought about Obi-Wan before had been true, yes, but only on a surface level. There was so much more to him, things he never would have actually understood without grasping the importance of perspective. It wasn't that the emotions were absent, it was that they weren't in conflict with the Living Force. Was that what peace was to Obi-Wan? A fully symbiotic two-way acceptance between the Force and himself, rather than a one-way submission to its will?

Maul let out a soft gasp, breaking their direct connection but never looking away.

It wasn't relevant right now.

After that particular meditation, training, and bonding session, it did not become easier for either of them to look upon the other.

Obi-Wan hadn't had any issues with it in the past, but that changed suddenly and dramatically upon the formation of their Force Bond. Maul could only gather from what he could feel from said bond that the intensity of it had been more than he'd been emotionally prepared for, and there was more to it beyond that, but it was being pushed down from inside. Being more of one to assess and think first, Maul gave him time. What it could be that Obi-Wan did not want to admit to even himself, Maul had yet to figure out- nor did he think he would manage to do so by asking directly. Obi-Wan did have quite the history of speaking in half-truths and bending honesty when he wasn't ready for anything else.

Maul, on the other hand, had quite expected his greater understanding of Obi-Wan to lend naturally toward making his attention toward the Jedi less intense. It was, after all, exhausting, to be so focused on someone you live with. However, this was not at all the case. Instead, the type of feelings just...changed.

No longer was he pushing down his hatred every time he looked at Obi-Wan, now he had an equally unsatisfiable swell of something much harder to deal with. Gentle emotions were not something he'd learned to experience, so when they came, they mostly manifested by him wanting to teach, like with Ezra, or in this instance, to protect. His odd feeling that he ought to protect Obi-Wan was extremely out of place and inappropriate for too many reasons to list. But it was there. Lingering and pulling him. Idly, he theorized that the sensation was just a side-effect of forming a light side Force Bond.

It was not.