Circa 47BBY, Pre-Prequel Era, Fifteen years before Episode One
Coruscant, the capital world of the Galactic Republic
He's bored in a long ceremonial Senate session when he first sees her. The whisps of luminescent green mist swirling about her form tell him she's not really standing there across the room. But if not for that telltale sign of her Force energy, he would be fooled. She looks very convincingly real. As far as Force tricks goes, it's a good one.
She says nothing. She just looks her fill with a bold stare.
He can't help it. His mind immediately reverts to their nights together. To the feel of her mind penetrating his consciousness as he penetrated her body. The bitch witch of Dathomir did not disappoint. She had been excellent in bed. Which was as expected, for she's had plenty of practice.
Who talks first? Does he talk first? No. Neither of them says a thing.
Does she know what he's thinking? She might. Because before she disappears from view, she licks her lips.
Well, that was . . . er . . . what was that exactly? With her, you never know. It's why she is so exciting and terrifying at the same time. He forces himself to blink and clear his mind. He can't let himself fall prey to her thrall again. That woman is dangerous for many reasons. He is glad there are light years between them. And thankfully, no one else seemed capable of seeing her.
The next time she appears he is finishing up a briefing in his Senate chambers. She's turned away this time. He sees her naked back. Has he caught her in the act of undressing? No, she is dressing, he decides, as he watches her slip one long, lithe arm into a crimson gown. She half turns, as if she is caught unaware, but he is not fooled. Despite her double take of surprise, he knows she intends this pose. The green tendrils of mist betray her power at work.
She turns to face him now, her regal gown still hanging unfastened. She clasps it loosely to her chest with her arms. It is the demure posture of a woman far more chaste than she is. He suppresses a snort at the showy display of girlish modesty. This woman is a real piece of work. What sort of fool does she think he is? But he dismisses his visitors nonetheless. Because she's the most interesting thing that's happened all day.
When everyone is gone, she speaks. "Sheev." No one says his name like she does. It's at least three syllables in her throaty purr.
"Lilith." He sits back in his desk chair and considers her. All of her. Like the other Nightsisters, she has a tall, narrow frame spare of flesh but rich in sinewy muscle. Her body matches her angular face with cheekbones for days that contrast so vividly with those petulant lips. She is strength married to beauty with a dash of the alien exotic. Add in the Force, and the result is a femme fatale. Her allure had been irresistible.
"I need your help. Come to me on Dathomir." She says the name of her homeworld like she says his name. With long, drawn out syllables and singsong relish. Dath-o-meeer. "Come to me, my lord."
Not a chance. He counters with feigned regret, "I'm a busy man."
"You are a powerful man," she corrects him. "Powerful men make other men busy on their behalf." There is the ghost of a coy smile about her lips as she appeals to his pride.
It works. But still, he resists. "I'm a busy, powerful man," he amends.
That's code for telling her the affair is over. He's back on Coruscant after the Senate recess. There is business to be done and he is a public figure whose life must be above reproach. It's hard enough as is to keep Cresta under wraps. He doesn't need to add another high maintenance woman to his already complicated personal life.
Lilith now drops her arms that clutch her dress. She lifts them to beseech him. It bares her torso to the waist. It's a dramatic but somehow casual gesture that is no doubt premeditated to reveal her body.
"Lord Sidious . . . Sheeeeeeeev," she implores, those alabaster breasts heaving. "I need you. Daaaaah-ling, come to me on Dath-o-meeer. . ."
No way. But he's enjoying the view, so he keeps her talking. "Is something amiss?"
"Yes. My son, my Maul, is missing."
"He'll turn up. He's probably with the Brothers. That kid runs wild and you know it."
"Maul is gone. He is not on Dathomir."
"He'll turn up," he lies again.
She isn't fooled. "There was only one way off our planet. Your ship, Sheev," she accuses. "Did he stowaway with you? You know how he loved your stories of Coruscant."
He shrugs. "I will ask my security detail if they've seen him."
"Bring him home. I want my son back. No questions asked," she promises. "And," Lilith adds as her eyelids half close and her lips slightly part, "I would like to see you again." One elegant hand now traces a languid line down from her throat past the hollow between her breasts to rest on the soft slope of her waist.
Against his better judgement, his eyes follow that hand. His mouth goes dry. His groin tightens. This woman with her bewitching power, frank attitude, and juicy cunt is as beguiling as ever. She knows it too.
"Show me your power," she goads him in her contralto. "Show me, Lord Sidious," she purrs. "You know I love your pow-ahhhh."
This is her schtick. She shamelessly flirts with Dark power like she shamelessly flirts with him. Well, she's pretty shameless generally. Just like he is.
And what the Hell? It's just him in his office now. So, he drops the pretense and reveals his yellow eyes. He is his true Dark self. It's a Sith lord's analog to her witch's striptease. She's flirting in the Force, so he flirts back.
And damn if she doesn't drop that hand from her waist even lower now. "Yessss . . . " her voice is a hiss of satisfaction. "I miss that pow-ahhhh," she half groans as she reaches between her legs beneath the dress fabric. "Come to me on Dathomir," she invites. "Come lay with me again when you bring back my boy."
That will never happen. But this is hot, so he goes with it. As her fingers start to move and her form begins to writhe, he slips a hand into his own robes beneath his waistband. It's not how he thought this afternoon would go, but it's a nice pick-me-up. Just the sight of that husky voiced siren has got him feeling randy. And with Cresta still pouting on Alderaan, things have been a bit lonely. Lilith disappears into thin air just as he satisfies himself. Her laughing voice echoes in his mind for a few seconds. Is she mocking him? He isn't sure.
The third time she appears to him, he starts to get worried that maybe they have accidentally created an old-style Force bond. He certainly hopes not. That will be a disaster. He'll never be rid of the bitch witch of Dathomir.
"How are you doing this?" he demands She's not projecting, is she? She can't be. The effort would kill her.
She flashes her enigmatic smile. And just look at those bedroom eyes. "Do not underestimate my pow-ahhhh," she chides him, looking like she might eat him.
He doesn't underestimate her. This sorcerer woman is dangerous. Her exotic beauty, her strange ways, and her impressive skills combined for a magnetic lure when they met in the flesh. Even now, light years away appearing through the Force, the temptation is real. And Darth Sidious can resist every temptation but the temptation to power. Fucking the witch had been like fucking the Force. It had been simply amazing.
He could get on a ship right now and go bang her like she wants. But then he would have to explain that he stole her kid. Plus, who knows if he would escape her a second time? That man-eating enchantress is unlike any woman he has ever met. If he returns, she might just consume him. He's had duels that drained him less than sex with her did. It would be a glorious way to go though . . .
His mind wanders back to those brief days and . . . he stops. He blinks to reclaim his thoughts. What is he doing? He needs to focus. This is exactly what she wants. For him to return so she can capture him and use him to bargain for her boy with Plagueis.
How humiliating would that be? And who knows if his Master would actually ransom him? He and Plagueis aren't exactly friends. But the Muun is deeply invested in him after their years together. It would be a stupid move not to save him.
Did you kill him? Darth Plagueis had cornered him immediately when he returned four days ago from the mission to Dathomir. No. I stole him, he answered. And the mother? I fucked her, he bragged. After his initial shock, the big Muun had thrown his head back and laughed out loud. Then he clapped him on the back and called him a true Sith.
When he presented the witch's kid to Plagueis, his Master had remained silent for a long moment. For his part, young Maul had been more curious than afraid. He had smiled up at the Sith Master as he waved his left hand and conjured green Dathomiran ichor—here on Coruscant!—out of thin air. With a talent far beyond his tender years, the happy-go-lucky Zabrak boy had summoned the Force to create an actual flower. These grow on my world, the kid told the Sith Master, as he presented the bloom like the feat was no big deal.
Can I keep him? Sheev had begged for the little boy like a child begs to keep a pet he brought home. The Muun had been noncommittal. We shall see, he answered. We shall see . . .
He takes that as a yes. No matter what Plagueis ultimately says, he is keeping the kid. If he has to fake the boy's death to satisfy the Muun, he will. Because that kid has far too much potential to waste. He plans to raise him and train him so that little Maul will kill the Muun for him one day. That means the happy-go-lucky Nightbrother will never again go home to mother.
And look, here's Lilith Talzin again, as if on cue. Half-naked and here to seduce him and scream at him. And hey, he likes sex as much as the next guy. But he likes power more. And power is to be had here in Senate where he keeps angling for the Chancellor role. This woman has become a distraction. It's a problem. He can't keep his mind on legislation and speeches when she keeps showing up.
At first, her surprise Force visits were a fun diversion. Sort of a sexy interlude when he could drop the nice guy Senator Palpatine pose and flash his yellow eyes and be who he really is. But they're getting tedious. The woman is a nag with her repeated appearances multiple times a day to plead for her son. He's done with her haranguing. This needs to stop. So when Lilith next appears and starts jawing on about Maul, he comes clean.
"I have him. I took him. He's mine."
Her eyes flash and her face scowls. She looks as if green fire might shoot out her ears. "Maul is mine! He is my boy! He belongs on Dathomir! He is a Nightbrother!"
Yep, she's pissed. Like he knew she would be. Well, she needs to get over it. "He belongs to the Sith now," he informs her.
She says something in a language he doesn't know, but it sure sounds bad. She switches to standard Basic now as she threatens, "If you kill him, Sheev, I will kill you!
"Is that a promise?" he smirks, safely on Coruscant.
"Do not underestimate my power, Sith."
Whatever. He is smug as he condescends. "We wouldn't even be a fair fight. Darkness is supreme."
"You're gravely mistaken," she snaps.
Irritated at her disrespect, he schools her on the ways of the Sith. "It is you who are mistaken about a great many things. In time, you will see . . . the Jedi will see . . . the whole galaxy will see . . . once more the Sith will rule the galaxy." And when her little boy grows and kills Plagueis for him, he will rule the Sith. "The Force is with us," he announces. "And now, Maul is with us as well."
"You harm Maul and I will make you pay! You have never known suffering like you will feel from me!" she thunders.
"Bold words for a woman who can't leave her homeplanet."
"Do not underestimate my power!"
He cocks his head at her now as he muses aloud, "Did you think he of all people would remain in obscurity at your little village on your backwater world? That he would be content with your silly tricks and spells? You should thank me, Lilith. Because I can give Maul so much more as my Apprentice."
"You will ruin him!"
"I will train him."
"To kill your Master?"
Fuck, she's good. She's very good. Nothing gets past her.
"I know the Sith and I know you, Sheev Palpatine," she observes. "You love power and that means you don't share power well."
He starts bargaining. "I can train your boy to be my Apprentice. He will learn both of our traditions. He will be a formidable foe as both a Sith and a Nightbrother."
"Only if you kill your Master," she points out.
Maul will do the killing, he plots. But he refuses to acknowledge that he needs her magical, super-powered kid to do his dirty work for him. "Think of it," he cajoles. "Your power and my power combined in little Maul."
The irate witch declares, "I have foreseen his future—Maul is destined for greatness! He is the Chosen One!"
"Then he must stay with me and train with me," he argues. "Think on it, Lilith. You will know it to be true." He flashes a sly smile. "Darth Maul of Dathomir has a very nice ring to it."
She shrieks back, "You Sith dare to believe you can subvert the will of the Force?"
Of course. Did she really think that the Sith would allow the boy born to destroy them and to balance the Force to live?
"This is the only way Maul gets to live—"
"You kill him and I'll—"
"I'm saving him! My Master sent me to Dathomir as an assassin. My mission was to kill Maul!" All that business about learning from the witches was just a cover story. "If I return him, I assure you that Plagueis will arrive to kill Maul himself. He's terrified of the Chosen One!" With a sharp look, he piles on, "Plagueis will kill you too, Lilith. So you don't birth another messiah brat after the first one's dead."
That shuts her up.
"The only way my Master will allow Maul to live is if he's an ally—if he's reared a Sith. I didn't steal your boy, I saved him!" And that's revisionist history, but he goes with it. It's his go-to posturing—he likes to present himself as the hero, rather than the villain. "Think it over," he tells her as she frowns.
The witch does consider it. Hours later, she is back haunting him in the Force again. They rehearse her usual accusations and threats at the outset. But she's coming around, he can tell.
So he puts it to her: "Well? Are we agreed for me to train Maul?"
"You will teach him all you know?"
Hell, no. No Sith Master does that. But he lies anyway: "Yes."
"You will take care of him? You will raise him as befits a prince?"
"Yes. He will live in luxury. He will receive an enviable education and an elite upbringing." To do otherwise might reflect badly on him. In fact, he plans to make a big show of his adopted near-human, but not-human child to posture for the alien vote. He's not about a little political virtue signaling.
The witch now corners him with yet another demand. "Will you love him?"
Love him? Love him? He sniffs, "The Sith do not love." Well, he loves himself. Does that count? And he sometimes loves Cresta when she's not cheating on him and acting righteous when he kills the guy on Alderaan she's been sleeping with. But love an Apprentice who he's going to train as the sacrificial lamb to slay his Master? Well, no. Why do that? The point of the boy is that he's expendable and conveniently overpowered. Best not to get emotions involved.
Love is a dealbreaker. The witch balks. "Maul is mine! Bring him home!" Mother Talzin now starts in on more threats and warnings, bragging about her power and the future. He's heard it before. He tunes her out.
That infuriates her. Lilith now lapses into that strange dialect of hers which makes it sound like she's speaking in tongues. That's some freaky shit, to be honest. Made all the more scary by his complete incomprehension of the magic afoot. Whatever voodoo this witch is mumbling, he's heard enough.
"Are you done?"
"I'm just getting started," she huffs. Then she resumes that spell she's casting.
It's unnerving. He's getting paranoid. "What is that you're doing? What does that mean?" he mutters.
She looks up and her stormy eyes pin him. "I am cursing you, Darth Sidious. You will get what you want—all of it. And then you, like every Sith before you, will lose it to your Apprentice. You might as well bring my boy back now, Sheev. Lest he be the one to murder you."
"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the Dark Side!" he rages for lack of any better response. For truly, he is a bit unnerved by her hex.
"You tell yourself that, Sheev. Every day, tell yourself that. But remember that the Coven predates the Sith. We were here before you. We know things that the Sith do not. Our magic is eternal," she brags.
He gulps hard. Then he doubles down on his best argument. "Plagueis will kill Maul if I bring him back!" His Master might kill him too for being so stupid.
"I'll take that chance," Lilith retorts. "Bring it on!" she taunts. She means it, he can tell. For truly, she has never looked more fierce. In a weird way, it's kind of hot.
Their shouting match ends. That night, Plagueis informs him that he can keep Maul. The crafty Muun will agree to let him raise the boy . . . for now. Let us see how he matures, his Master decides. We have plenty of time to kill him.
All in all, it's a three-way win. He gets an Apprentice to advance his plots, his Master feels better about the whole Chosen One prophecy, and the kid gets to live. The only one who's unhappy is Mother Talzin and she'll get over it in time.
But her anger gives him pause. He knows he has made a powerful enemy. And just in case the bitch witch's hex has some bite, he resolves to make her son love him as a father, not just as a Sith Master. He will rear Maul to be loyal. That means he will at least pretend to love the kid . . . for now.
When Lilith appears again, he commits to care for the boy. Does she believe him? He's not sure. But she doesn't offer to rescind her curse. Instead, she warns him sternly, "You will answer to me for Maul." They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but watching Lilith now he thinks Hell has nothing on the mother witch of Dathomir.