Chapter VII: Trial, Error, and Concession

The luster of the evening sun penetrated the windows in the large chamber. Through them Isyleesi spotted several birds taking flight in the distance. They glided seamlessly across the endless blue horizon. Their wings, fluttering in unison as the flock mounted the sky, glistened beneath the waning sunbeams. She observed the mass for several more seconds, a growing envy rising in her chest at each beating wing.

Free will.

It was an alien concept to her. One she had little experience with. She had never truly tasted the sweetness of freedom. Every experience with autonomy had been crisp and fleeting. It was never enough to sate the burgeoning need within her for independence. The desire had been thwarted on Tatooine under the service of the Hutt's. Now, it was subdued beneath him.

Him.

The Zabrak stood several feet in front of her. At his side were two human men. Each was dressed in a pristine, white leather body suit. He spoke briefly to them, whispering stiff commands through his cardinal lips. The men nodded their heads in accordance with his words. One turned his attention to her as Maul spoke. She shivered as his eyes swathed her body. The piercing green irises were void of any sentiment – of any light.

"Your punishment," his voice broke suddenly from the far side of the room. "Will be a concise beating." Each man drew a thin a baton from their utility belt. The swish the metal rods made as they cut across the air made her stomach tighten. "I will return when they have finished."

Iyleesi surveyed each inch of the weapons. The hard metal made her shoulders tremble. She adverted her eyes, hoping to find her beacons of freedom fluttering across the window once more. When only the endless azure filled her vision, empty of any movement or life, her eyes stung. She drew an unsteady breath, turning her attention back to the Sith. She could not read him. His aspect was as glacial as ever.

Please, she thought, cognizant he could often interpret her feelings. Please, don't.

Her pleadings wrought nothing from him.

The men took several steps forward, their feet falling in unison. One raised his baton and patted it expectantly in his palm. She whimpered at the malice in their eyes. They looked like rabid beasts waiting for their master's command to feed. In their wake, she lost sight of the Zabrak. It was the distinct sound of a retracting door that drew her eyes to him once more. Wistfully, she watched him gather his cloak and exit the chamber. Tears obscured her vision as he disappeared from sight. Turning anxiously, she observed the two men stalk towards her in his absence.

Their leashes had been cut.

She did not run.

"I would rather it be you," she whispered, her voice choked by impending sobs. One of the men grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, forcing her onto her knees. She spoke again, her scream echoing through the large room, "I would rather it be you!"

The first blow struck her in the ribs.

Maul registered her cry, but felt nothing.

He was not moved by her pain. Was not moved by the ensuing screams. Her anguish meant little. The woman had brought these sufferings upon herself. She had crossed him yet again, and punishment was necessary for her faults. He recalled, with a void expression, her attempt to relieve herself of his charge through death. The thought made him grin. His yellow, pointed teeth slipped nefariously through his lips. Her impudence was nearly comical as it was maddening.

As Maul's thoughts wandered, his fingertips found the base of his forehead. They lingered there for several seconds, a phantom ache burning his flesh. It was a memory; soft, temperate, and foreign. Unlike anything he had experienced before. Entirely alien in the most daunting way. His fingers shook in cadence. Feverishly, he retrieved his hand and held it before him. His gloved palm clenched, balling forcefully into a tight fist.

The memory was gone.

"Master Maul," echoed a voice from behind. Without looking the Sith knew to whom it belonged. "As you commanded, we were quick and concise sir."

Slowly, Maul turned to survey Palpatine's retainers, showering them with an empty stare.

"Very well," he spoke, voice cool as ice. "Then you are dismissed."

He slipped past them like a shadow without another word. The chamber door was his destination. He sauntered towards it calmly, his pace slow and measured beneath the sway of his robes. At first he could not feel the woman when he converged upon the doorway. The sentiment excited him, and he conjectured they had killed her unwittingly. As entered however, her presence grew stronger. She was, to his chagrin, very much alive.

Though her life force was evident, her body mirrored that of a corpse. She laid supine in the center of the room. Her thick, glossy waves amassed in disheveled thickets round her head. He carefully dropped to one knee at her side, surveying her body with a diffident air. There were faint marks upon the exposed parts of her flesh. The bronze of her thighs and arms bore evidence of his servant's weapons. The rest of her lay veiled beneath her ash-colored dress. Satisfied, he steadied himself to rise. She would come to in an hour, perhaps less, he mused straightening his knee. A taut pull on his cloak made him halt.

A small hand had firmly wound itself around the length of Maul's robes.

The Zabrak shot the woman a venomous look, but his grimace failed to subdue her. Instead, Iyleesi held tighter, pulling herself up to a seated position using his body as an anchor. The gesture riled him, but before he could grab her wrist and twist the frail limb from its socket, she leapt at him with astonishing speed. In his kneeling position, her fortuitous attack rendered him unsteady and he fell backwards with ease to the ground below.

Iyleesi could not place what drove her actions.

She did not think as she tore at his black robes, sinking her slender fingers into the flesh beneath. She felt only rage, a primal wrath that enveloped her very core. With each swing of her arms pain radiated from her shoulders down her spine. The memory of hard meal upon her flesh was still fresh and tender. Luckily, the pain only incited her anger. It fueled her violent blows, driving her claws deeper into the hard flesh beneath his heavy cloak. She had gone mad and embraced said madness. Allowed the wild, senseless feeling to flow through her body. It nearly felt like freedom.

Unfortunately, her fit was cut short by a swift knee to the ribs.

She cried out, quieting abruptly as she felt her body thrown to floor with a thud. A cough erupted from her lips, followed by a quivering whimper as white-hot pain shot like lightning through her shoulders. She watched helplessly as his looming form descended on her, pinning her wrists to the ground with unforgiving force. In his grasp, she struggled wildly but the rage still burned.

"Coward!" She barked, twisting beneath him like a serpent. "If you wanted me beaten you should have done in yourself! You coward!"

Her outburst earned her a painful jerk. She yelped at the pain, winching as the sight of unmistakable fury flashed in his golden irises. The Zabrak bared his teeth at her, a growl, low and menacing, issuing from his chest as he drove her frail limbs further into the ground.

"Do you enjoy this?" He breathed, his velvet voice savage and crisp. "Do you desire my rage that badly?"

Iyleesi's anger mellowed dramatically beneath his yellow glare. Never had she sought his violence willingly. Another breath and the rage coursing through her veins melded into something less violent. She adverted her eyes, suddenly shameful of the burning passion that possessed her moments ago. Maul interpreted her silence as diffidence, and shook her subdued wrists cruelly.

"I have only ever sought your tenderness!" She cried, muttering her trembling words between clinched teeth.

Maul scoffed, sitting back in repulsion before rising to his feet without warning.

"I possess no such thing."

"No," she returned, failing to subdue the thickness in her throat. "You do not."

Those last words escaped as a sob, and her ensuing whimpers were enough to drive the Zabrak from her. Her suffering had grown monotonous. Each quivering breath drew him closer to the brink of utter madness. Somehow, it had all grown insufferable. Maul hauled himself away further, but it was not long until his steps slowed. He turned, swathing the gold of his irises across the wretched young woman once more. The image rendered him aimless, and his gloved fingers clinched almost painfully.

She sat upright, her fingers trembling over the base of her chin. Blood stained the tips of her fingers and pooled between her teeth, staining them red. She coughed, and a small crimson mist erupted from between her lips. The sight of her own blood appeared to deepen her sorrow, triggering several more heaving sobs. The Zabrak watched her, motionless aside from the quick, heavy breathing that arrested his chest. It was not long until his exhales became audible, the sound of air filtering forcefully through his flared crimson nostrils filled the room. Something had snapped.

"Enough."

Iyleesi held her breath.

She did not dare look at him. The Zabrak's murderous tone was violent in an unrecognizable way. Instead, she stared at the floor below of her, her palms braced on either side of her body. Although logic reasoned it would be of no use, her instincts urged her to run. The latter prevailed the moment the shuffling of his footsteps reached her ears. She sprang to her feet without pause and limped as quickly as she could muster to the opposite side of the room.

The Sith mirrored her movements with force. It was not his usual slow, patronizing saunter that pursued her. That familiar gait that so closely paralleled a predator toying with its slower, weaker prey was gone. Instead, it was that of beast who hungered. One that tasted the scent of blood in the air. Sensing this, she cried out shrilly as fear suffocated her faculties. Her frightened stupor was abruptly stirred by the feeling of something hard. She stopped and gazed woefully at the solid marble before her.

"No," she whimpered, smoothing her fingers desperately across its surface. "Dammit."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned and opened them in time to see the Zabrak racing towards her. In a single fluid motion, he drew his saber from his belt and activated the searing red blade. Iyleesi braced herself firmly against the wall as he swung, sealing her eyelids shut. The sickening sound of sparks made her shudder. She waited for the pain, and wondered when the vicious burning of his crimson sword failed to cripple her body. Aside from her own labored breathing, and the loud sizzling of his saber nearby, she heard and felt nothing aside from the ache of her forming bruises.

Weakly, she opened her eyes and surveyed the man looming before her. His tall, shrouded form hovered above hers, his features downcast. His arms bordered her on either side of her body. On the left was his fist, balled tightly against the wall. In his other hand was his energy sword. The blade had struck the marble inches from her cheek and had charred its creamy surface. She could only stare wildly at him, her eyes wide with shock.

"Why," he whispered abruptly, his voice breathless. "Why can't I kill you?"

With a roar, he tore the saber down the remainder of the wall. The sword melted the marble, creating a lengthy scorching indent near her body. Deactivating the sword, he let it fall limply from his long fingers. The small clank the weapon made as it struck the floor below reverberated through the empty room.

Iyleesi stared at him, a dumbfounded expressing masking her features. She could barely process what just took place. Her limbs still trembled violently, and the thunderous sound of her pulse deafened her ears. Gathering her wits, she tried to slow her erratic breathing and closed her eyes to steady her thoughts. She had been certain he would kill her this time. Every aspect of his being promised her the end was near only moments ago. Yet the pattern had repeated itself again. He spared her once more. The cycle seemed infinite, and she felt it needed to end.

"I won't stop you," her voice filled the silence, soft and raspy.

Maul raised his head and she caught sight of his blazing yellow eyes. The intensity of his gaze made her want to shy away, but she held it as tightly as she could. Gently, she sunk down to the floor and reached for the fallen saber. Rising back to his level, she pushed its silver hilt into his gloved fingers and directed it to the base of her throat.

"I won't stop you this time," she repeated.

For several moments the pair remained locked in this position, staring fiercely into each others eyes, the Zabrak's saber pressed weakly to her throat. Tears blurred her vision as she traced the features of his face. The emptiness stung her.

"Well?" She cried abruptly.

When he made no remark to reply, she angrily struck the saber out of his hand. This finally roused Maul. He took a step back from the small woman before hardening his gaze considerably.

"Just do it!" She took a step towards him, fearlessly engaging him. He remained stoic, the sharpness in his gaze the only facet betraying his anger. Iyleesi smirked painfully, her eyes divulging the true anger she felt. "Maybe you can't kill me," she muttered tauntingly. "You couldn't even punish me yourself this time. You had to send those," she adverted her eyes from him, recalling the memory with bitterness, "those men after me."

She took another step closer to him, holding her chin in the air with mock confidence. Smoothly, she leaned in close. He observed her with a look that was indecipherable as she whispered in his ear, soft yet insulting, "You couldn't even kill me just now."

An unknown force jolted her backwards. She hit the wall, the sound of air rushing from her diaphragm at the impact broke from her lips. The initial collision stunned her, and although she ached considerably, she brandished a forced smiled and sought to coerce him further.

"That's it," she began wearily. "Kill me you coward!"

The thread had snapped again.

"Is that what you want?" He spoke, his voice cold and velvety as ever. The fear she experienced moments ago when he perused her across the room returned abruptly. "Do you truly delusion yourself with the notion that I cannot kill you?"

Maul removed his cloak, and the fabric fell to the floor with a soft thud. He paced slowly round her, discarding his leather gauntlets and the thick black tunic as he stalked. She observed him fearfully, a near imperceptible trembling arresting her knees as she detailed the Sith. His well-muscled chest glistened with the afternoon sun penetrating through the windows. Each tendon rippled with the movement of his hips.

She swallowed hard and looked him fiercely in the eye.

"Then do it. Kill me with your bare hands, coward."

The Zabrak leered promisingly at her, violence dancing in his stare.

"Oh, I intend to."

His vision went red, and hers went black. Only the deafening sounds of the striking of flesh followed by a melody of cries filled the room. His strikes were hard and unforgiving, almost as if he had forgotten she was made of only flesh and bone. She wanted to beg him to stop, but her pride left her voiceless. She could not continue their reckless cycle. Not when she was so sure of her feelings.

They were twisted, displaced emotions, but she could not defer them any longer. He had saved her, he had spared her, and that night, after she had recovered from the encounter on Tatooine, an indescribable magnetism drew their bodies together, if only for a moment. She could not wholly decide if what she experienced was truth, or influenced by her own foolish desires. What she did know was to live in such a way, void of even a sliver of warmth for an imperceptible amount of time, was comparable to death.

If only, she thought, the light fading from her vision, if only he had let me die on that balcony.

Maul stopped, backing away from the woman as if freed from a trance. She immediately collapsed to the floor, and despite his previous eagerness, he felt no satisfaction. The feeling was entirely alien. The woman deserved to perish. She was nothing to him. Nothing but a body meant to serve, and she had failed. Still, his empty reasoning failed him, and regret flooded through the Sith's veins like hot fire. He shook his head, perplexed by the new, foreign emotion.

"She is nothing! Nothing!"

The Zabrak struck the cold marble wall with rage, repeating these words aloud until his knuckles grew bloody and raw.

There was movement, but it was not of her accord. She was too weak to open her eyes and survey what was taking place. She tried to focus on her surroundings, narrowing in on the sensations her body felt besides the deafening pain. There, she found something familiar. Arms, solid and strong held her body aloft. With a shaky inhale, a familiar scent filled her nostrils. It was warm and earthy. She relaxed at the familiarity and listened passively to the retracting of doors and the soft running water. Blackness swiftly took her again, but she soon came to once more.

Warmth enveloped her entire body.

She sighed as the heat eased the aches that plagued her flesh. Slowly, she opened her eyes and a steamy tub filled her vision. Her svelte body was nude beneath the warm water, breasts barely burgeoning through. She smiled, inhaling the sweet scent emanating from the tub. It hurt her to breathe so deeply, but she was glad she did. Lavender and sea salt filled her nose, and the smell reminded her of her childhood, as it was her mother's favorite scent.

Aimlessly, she dragged her weary gaze from the tub. Her eyes widened momentarily, before relaxing back into their weary state. Beside the tub, leaning against the wall sat Maul. His head was tilted backwards against it, though his gaze sought her. If not for the dizzying pain, she would have felt shocked. Instead, she stared back at him and their gazes mingled quietly in the balmy air of the refresher. For the first time since she met him, his face was not that of a stony mask.

Shifting in the tub, Iyleesi winced as her body protested the movement. Sighing, she drew her fingers through the silky water, musing that the pink tinge was likely her blood and not lavender. She glanced black at the Zabrak wearily, observing his hard features before adverting them forward again. They sat in silence this way, a strange calm descending between them, until the warmth began to dizzy her.

"Master," she spoke, unsure of why she used this title to address him. "I feel faint. I'm getting out."

She rose, the slosh of water filling the air as her body left its pool. Although she sought to leave the tub, the pain arrested her and she nearly slipped in its wake.

Wordlessly, Maul grabbed a towel from the rack and slung it over his bare shoulder. Moving towards her, his large hands arrested the soft flesh of her waist to steady her, before wrapping the towel around her nude body. She watched him as he draped it round her, silently admiring the way his eyes never transversed past her breast bone. Then, with the towel secure, he placed one muscular arm beneath her knees and scooped her into the air. The gesture startled her, but she instantly relaxed into Maul's solid arms, draping her wrists round his neck as he made for the exit of the refresher.

As he carried her out and the familiar sight of his bearings filled her vision, she adverted her chestnut gaze to his. Feeling her eyes on him, Maul returned the gesture and her body stirred. A strange restlessness cascaded through her limbs as he walked her across the room and laid her across his plush mattress.

Without warning, her towel grew loose as he lowered her down, unraveling until her soft, nude flesh was entirely bare beneath him. Choosing not to acknowledge her nakedness, he retracted, but she caught him gently by the forearm. He lingered there above her, precariously bent above her in the darkness where she held him. She tried to capture his yellow gaze, but he adverted his eyes, staring past her at the velvet sheets below. Finally, she squeezed his arm a little tighter and his finally fell to match hers.

His aspect made her body tingle. There was a fire there, behind his golden eyes, that made the muscles in her thighs tighten. As always, Maul could read her, and the heat in his mien intensified as her breathing became more shallow and a soft sigh filtered through her rosy lips. He could sense her arousal, and grew weak. His eyes strained to remain above the tips of her round, supple breasts. Gently, she arched her body towards his, begging him to yield. Begging him to crumble.

"Tell me," he hissed finally, his voice deep and carnal. "Is this what you want?

He knew her answer before she spoke, and she breathed the aching word without pause.

"Yes."

A/N: Hey everyone, long time no see! Despite how busy my life becomes, I always have this particular story in the back of my mind. Hearing your feedback and knowing you all continue to enjoy this fiction is what really drives me to continue writing, so thank you for the feedback. Anyway, ho-ho things are getting steamy. There's been a lot of built of sexual tension between these two in the past, I wonder if they'll finally break through the fourth wall.