A/N: I would like to thank you all for being so incredibly patient! I know my last update was long ago. Between class and work, life has been very engrossing. In return for your support, however, and as an apology for my late update, I've written an extra long chapter. Your support and feedback are ever appreciated.

Chapter VI: Free Fall

As the soft morning light entered the chamber, it stirred her from sleep.

For a moment she forgot herself. The room that filled her vision dismayed her. Even the bed in which she slept was unfamiliar. The charcoal-colored fabric surrounding her, soft and velvety against her skin, felt foreign. Only moments ago had she been draped in the sheets of her own bed. The faint aroma of her mother's cooking imbuing her senses as she slept beneath the rough cotton sheets of her little mattress.

A dream, she thought, recalling the feeling with reverence. For several moments she tried to cling to them. Preserving them best she could with her mind. She replayed the images, the sounds, the sensations – my little bed, cotton sheets, mother's cooking – until she could no longer hold them. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as they faded. She felt as though she had lost something precious.

Tossing in the large bed, she buried herself deep within the dark pillows. A familiar scent encased her as she sunk beneath the sheets. His scent. It was earthy and warm like clove and cinnamon. The comfort it brought her was incomprehensible. She wanted to drown in it.

"Woman."

The voice broke the silence of the empty chamber like a gunshot.

It was his. There was no mistaking the eloquent way which he spoke. The sharp precision of his words, laced in his deep silken voice were unequivocal. Shifting beneath the velvet sheets, she turned carefully toward the source of the intrusion. As she did, her eyes found him.

"Rise and come forward."

Iyleesi nodded in obedience and slid towards the edge of the bed. Beneath the sheets her body was bare. The dress she'd worn the previous day lay in a heap near the headboard. The piece of clothing proved impossible to sleep in, and as he did not return to his chamber the previous night after their strange confrontation, she took the liberty of sleeping comfortably in his bed. As her feet grazed the cool tile floor, she shrugged the layers of blanket from her body and stood. The chilly morning air penetrated her flesh, stiffening every inch of her tawny skin.

The Sith chose not to acknowledge the exposed nature of her body. His eyes skirted briefly over the tops of her bare collarbone before gravitating back to her face. Defiance was present in her eyes. He knew her thoughts were entirely consumed with the previous night. Much like a child, she was sulking, and he did not have patience for such petulance.

"Dress yourself and come. Now."

With a bitter sigh she acquiesced. Slipping on the ash colored dress, she followed close behind his sinewy frame, clothed in his usual black robes. She watched the fabric as it swung to and fro round his body. Observed the motion of his hips as he treaded across the sleek marble floor. His gait was that of a panther. Deadly and elegant all at once.

"Where are we going?" She questioned, a hint of contempt lingering in her tone.

"It is not your place to ask questions."

With of sigh of frustration, she paused behind him. Maul noted her stillness immediately. She was trying him today. Slowly, he turned to face her directly. Her brown eyes held the same rebellious air he observed only moments ago.

"You dare?" He cautioned, taking an ominous step towards her.

"I renounce it. Our agreement, if it can even be called that." She did not look at his face while she spoke. Instead, she chose a spot on the floor beside him. "I choose death."

An amused grin tugged at the corner's of Maul's tattooed mouth. Her sulking had turned dramatic.

"You do not have the authority to renounce my charge." Walking forward, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. "You forget yourself."

She tried her best keep her features impassive. Attempting to recreate the Zabrak's mein, she donned the same mask of stony calm he perpetually wore. Aside from the slight trembling of her hands, she nearly succeeded. It might have fooled Maul if not for his ability to read into her feelings. He knew her mind bore a contrast to her superficial composure. Insider her raged a storm.

"I did not ask your permission!"

The words enraged Maul, but before he could react, she bolted.

Sprinting down the corridor, she reached his chamber door and traced the symbol of his security code across the panel. When the opening retracted, her heart melted in relief. She had watched him enter the code several times, and committed it to memory. As she entered the room, she rapidly closed the door. Watching anxiously as the door shut, she made out the familiar shape of his legs just before it closed completely. A loud bang against the metal barrier provoked a yelp out of her. Regardless, she knew she was safe. She had set the door to lock.

Alone in the large chamber, her eyes focused on the balcony near the far side of the room. She walked to it confidently. The plan was in motion. There was no turning back now. To err would be to face the rageful man behind her and endure whatever excruciating punishment he could conjure.

No, she thought listlessly, this is a better path.

Sliding the glass barrier aside, she stepped onto the balcony. Immediately her vision filled with the Corcusant skyline. The large skyscrapers, bathed in the soft light of the early morning, stood regally against the horizon. It was a beautiful sight. More beautiful than most she had seen on Tatooine, save for the setting of the twin suns. The way the two spheres descended upon the dunes, casting a violet hue upon the buildings of Mos Eisley, was incomparable. Nothing would ever match it.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Iyleesi pulled herself over the banister. The view below made her dizzy. Her vision blurred as she gazed beneath her at the minute streets. She could barely make out the movements of the sentients below. They looked like insects. From such an immense height, she knew it would not hurt. Abruptly the wind picked up, billowing her gown across her knees and scattering her wavy locks in the air. She tested the strength of bannister. Gripping the metal bar, she pulled slightly at the protective barrier as she hovered over its side, feet dangling in the air.

Then she let go.

The feeling was intense. It reminded her of the many dreams she had in the past. Falling into a soft expanse of space. She opened her mouth to scream, but the velocity did not allow her lungs to employ enough air to do so. Her chest was tight. Her heart drummed loudly in her ears. Everything surrounding her was blur of sound and color. As she fell, fragments of her life permeated her memory.

The earlier memories were warm. Her family was happy. Her parents unperturbed by the ways of Mos Eisley. Then things changed. Their lust for gambling grew. She spent long periods of her adolescence alone. Her parents gone, squandering their lives away with the scum of the city. Mos Eisley's darkness had consumed them both. Then there was her father's voice that momentous day.

"I'm sorry Leesi." Her father could not face her. Could not hide the shame. "Forgive us."

Thereafter she served the Hutt's. Working at their establishment, serving drinks and food to sentients throughout the city. Some of its inhabitants were harmless, most were wicked. She endured the long hours of work from morning till night, her sole reimbursement being the peace of mind her labor granted. As long as she worked, they would not slay her family. She bore it well. The advances of strange men, the brawls, the underhanded trades of drugs, slaves, rare illegal elements – they eroded her but never did she fall.

Not until now.

The sadness built upon itself. It became heavy. Her parents' death was like a large stone slab placed upon her shoulders. Then there was him. The way he captured her, punished her, but worst of all, the strange feelings that bloomed in her entrapment. More painful than his smart blows was his mercy. How he had spared her life and recovered her from near death. The way he saved her from the grips of the mad bounty hunter. It stung more than any strike.

The previous night especially burned her memory. Had she imagined it? The shift his demeanor? It mirrored the shift in their bodies in his dark room. The shift in her breathing as he arrested her against his chamber wall. Or had she merely dreamt it all?

It mattered not.

Time, distance, sight, and sound all meshed together into gigantic flurry of sensation. The physical laws of nature seemed to rip at the seams as the momentum with which she fell began to accelerate. It was painful. Her lungs could not capture the molecules of oxygen around her at the speed of which she fell. She would suffocate before hitting the ground.

Then, it stopped.

She was arrested in midair.

The abrupt stop startled her. She gasped violently as air entered her oxygen deprived lungs. Choking and coughing, she watched as the view below her gradually grew smaller before her eyes. She was gravitating upwards. She wondered if she were dead. Only in death or a dream could such an anomaly happen. Perhaps she had hit the ground only seconds ago, and had passed into the next life. Was she ascending to the heavens at this very moment?

It couldn't be. She saw no carnage. No blood and bone below. No remnants of her shattered body. Then there was her physiology. She trembled. Her lungs were on fire. Her eyes watered relentlessly. One did not feel these sensations in death. No, she was alive. Propelled by a force unbeknownst to her. She was breathing, and not a mess of tissue and bone on the pavement below.

Her ascent upwards was far slower than her fall. As she traveled through the air, she earned curious looks from a variety of sentients. Weaving past her in their grav-cars, their confused expressions matched her own. Her ascent eventually lead her to the familiar bearings of the balcony from which she leapt. As it came into view, she was shocked at what she saw on its ledge.

Standing in its center was Maul.

His stance was wide and grounded. Beads of sweat lined the cardinal skin of his forehead. His brow was knotted intensely, the yellow of his eyes blazing with concentration. One gloved hand was outstretched in her direction. The connecting arm trembled with such ferocity that his limb looked like a blur of vibration. When her body reached the mouth of the ledge, Maul suddenly cast his other arm into the air. A deep growl tore through his throat as he levitated her towards the balcony. Beneath the fabric of his tunic, she could see the quivering of his tendons. Not just in his arms, but throughout his entire body. As she watched the Zabrak's shuddering frame, her features bore a mix of panic and awe.

With one final powerful thrust, he centered her safely over the balcony's ledge. Seeing she was properly positioned Maul abruptly collapsed, dropping to the ground below with a soft thud. Iyleesi followed shortly thereafter. Her body fell from above and tumbled hard onto his chest. Gathering herself in shock, she pulled away from his limp form. A vauge sense of dread struck her as she studied his face. His eyes were closed, his features far more relaxed than made her comfortable.

"Why?" She screamed in a sudden fit of fury.

Straddling his body, she began sinking her fists into his chest. Repeatedly she hit him, screaming amidst her blows. Tears burned her eyes as she pummeled him with her weak strikes. They fell readily down the soft bronze of her cheeks, blurring her vision. Several more feeble punches spawned a reaction. His eyelids began to flutter and her movements ceased. She watched whilst his eyelids struggled to remain open. They were heavy. His amber spheres laced with exhaustion. To see him so weak frightened her for reasons she did not understand.

"It's not yours to take," he choked, his eyes closing suddenly.

Once more he went soft.

Her tears waned at his words. Lowering herself down on his body, she arrested his jaw in her palms and kissed the warm flesh of his face. The sweat on his skin dampened her lips. She could taste the saltiness in his perspiration. It was hers. The moisture on his flesh, the atrophy in his muscles, it all belonged to her. It was the sacrifice he made to preserve her life, regardless of his reasoning behind it.

As her lips careened around his jaw, she shifted her position and claimed his mouth. Maul's lips were soft beneath her own. Tender in a way she would have never imagined. She traced the dark pattern on his lower lip with her tongue. The taste of his moistened skin filled her mouth again. She thought, as she lavished his mouth with her own, that she had gone mad.

"Why must you be so merciful?" She murmured, raising herself to his ear. Lightly, she brushed her rose-colored lips over the flesh of his earlobe. "Why not let me die?"

Her only response came in the form of his labored breathing. He was unconscious. For this she was thankful, for as sanity ripened her mind she recognized how utterly careless it was to kiss him. To touch him, even. She reeled, studying him as she tried to draw connections among her actions and emotions. Her feelings were chaotic and nearly impossible to classify.

On one hand she was furious he arrested her suicide. One the other hand she was grateful. Grateful her body was not a bloody mess on the streets of Corcusant. She was also glad he was alive. A great deal of fear threatened her as he collapsed, and the brief utterance of his words before he fell listless again was enough to settle her tears.

This realization unnerved her.

Despite how jumbled her mind felt, she knew it was necessary to move him from the balcony. Somehow. He was heavy in her slender arms. His muscled frame was a task to haul through the open glass door. Once in the room, it took her several tries to hoist his body onto the bed, but she managed. Sighing from the exertion, she lightly tapped the side of his temple with her fingers.

She leaned down, tentatively whispering, "Master?" Silence followed her inquiry.

Surveying the room, she spotted the refresher. As she noticed it an idea struck her and she dashed towards it. On the sink lay several small hand towels. Grabbing one, she soaked the cloth in cold water before returning to where he lay on the bedside.

The cold may rouse him from this stupor, she reasoned, softly caressing the cool rag over his brow.

As she dabbed his face, she marveled at how peaceful he looked beside her. Never had Iyleesi seen his features so unguarded – so gentle. Not even his thick tattoos or the crown of horns upon his head could daunt her in his current state. A smile seized her lips as she studied him.

He looked like art.

His flesh was an easel of scarlet and obsidian weaved into an elegant composite. The beauty of the etchings had occurred to her only once before in passing. Now, however, she openly relished the handsome pattern.

Following another sweep of the cloth across his face, Maul's eyes twitched. Her heart pounded forcefully in response to his quivering eyelids. With a deep groan and a clench of his fists, he revealed his brilliant irises. They glimmered like two round ingots of gold beneath the late morning sun. The fatigue in his aura was yet unmistakable. Whatever force the Zabrak used to recover her, it had diminished much of his strength.

Ignoring where she sat beside him, he rose quite suddenly, startling her and stalking into the center of room. Iyleesi stood, perking slightly with alarm as she observed his movements towards the exit of the chamber. His steps were awkward and uncertain, so very unlike the nimble semblance he so often wore. After taking several more shaky steps, Maul paused.

Weakness.

The feeling was unfamiliar and he was unnerved by it. His movements felt alien. His mind was muddled. Drawing the woman up from such an immense height had drained him incredibly, taking tremendous focus and power. Power he could not have called upon if not for his rage. Her defiant actions kindled a fierce fire within him. A fire that sustained his strength. He'd been bent on erecting her from the brink of death, if only to murder her himself thereafter.

"Master," she called suddenly, taking several steps towards him. "You're too weak. You should lie back down."

Although she felt apprehensive, his trembling legs incited her to approach. His posture was deteriorating and his stance rapidly wavered. In vain, Maul tried to gather himself, fighting against his weakened body. Unsuccessful in his struggle, he slumped forward and she caught him roughly. He fell into her arms, almost knocking her to the ground. Facing him directly, she pushed him back in order to capture his eyes with her own. His gaze readily seized hers in return.

"You should be so lucky I am weak. If I had the strength I would tear you in two."

Anchoring her hands on either side of his broad chest, she steadied his faulty body before replying.

"Is that my punishment then sir? Will you try to kill me?"

"I have yet to decide your punishment," he returned coolly.

Tilting her head forward into his chest, she she sighed, whispering softly, "I am truly sorry. Causing you harm was not my intention."

He sneered at her words.

"As if you could, woman."

"But I have," she exclaimed, pulling away to meet his eyes again. "Look at you." Removing one of her hands from his side, she drew her fingers down his cheek. "You can barely stand."

The gesture startled him. He visibly stiffened beneath her touch.

"Watch your fingers," he uttered evenly, yellow eyes blazing.

Not wanting to rile him unnecessarily, she obeyed his command and reluctantly dropped her hand.

"Why save me sir if you intention was only to end my life?" She questioned, breaking the moment's silence.

Her query agitated him more than it should have.

"You are my property. I will decide when you've outlived your usefulness to me." He spoke coldly into the air of the hollow chamber. "For now, I still can fathom ways you can demonstrate value."

"No," she muttered suddenly, her grip on his sides tightening. "I don't believe you."

This pouty argument again, Maul's mind seethed. If I only had the strength, I would silence her brooding with a single strike of my fist.

"What you choose to believe is irrelevant," he echoed silkily, voice brimming with arrogance. "Silence your absurd delusions."

"I would, if they were delusions. You wrap your kindnesses in sharp words, but your actions speak volumes."

He smirked at her comment, gazing down the delicate little body before him. He wanted to snap her neck.

"You mistake my behavior for kindness when in truth I serve only myself. How very trite."

With a sudden groan, Maul abruptly began to shift beneath her grasp. Acting quickly, she led his staggering form back to the mattress before he could collapse again. He needed rest. His obstinacy would only serve to weaken him further in the end. As he laid there, breaths escaping in labored huffs, she shook her head helplessly at him.

"I see your actions for what they really are sir." Sinking down to where he lay, she planted a faint kiss on the base of his forehead. "Thank you."

Rising, she left his room, meaning to capture TC-13 and request the droid fetch water and food.

As he lay alone, angled across his bed, the ghost of her lips burned the flesh on his skull.

Since when had he begun to doubt himself?