What the fuck is this?
The scene in the meadow is like a holonet porn video come to life. Like a fantasy mashup of neighborhood block party meets group sex. Feeling every bit the sheepish voyeur, Sheev takes it in with startled fascination.
Because squint beyond the flickering bonfire that is encircled by dancers and see the shadowy woman lying on the ground. Her legs are spread wide for a muscle-bound, horn-crowned male witch who thrusts his body into hers again and again. See the daybed couch nearby that supports several people tangled in an ongoing make-out session. There are three—no, make that four—naked male and female witches engaged in heavy foreplay. And over to the west is a rope swing hanging from a gnarled tree. The swing supports two lovers who enthusiastically heave their conjoined bodies to and fro. It's surely the most x-rated playground equipment ever.
Damn . . . What the literal fuck is this?
Once Sheev starts spotting couples in coitus, he can't stop seeing them. There's a pair by a fallen tree and another pair laid out on a bench. They're on the grass rolling around on blankets and even tucked beneath one of the food tables. Nearly everywhere Sheev looks, there are witches unselfconsciously naked and unapologetically rutting.
It's . . . it's . . . well, it's . . . Truthfully, he can't decide how to label what he sees. Part of him thinks it's amazing. But another part of him finds it to be gross. Like these are people, not breeding livestock in a pasture. Maybe the Coven has taken its 'close to nature' ethos too far, Sheev thinks. Tonight's orgy in the meadow puts the tryst he and Lilith interrupted earlier in perspective. The Coven is indeed sex positive, and to a far greater extent than Sheev expected. While he himself is no prude, he's not comfortable in this environment.
At his side, Lilith says nothing. She just watches him watching her people.
Sheev now reconsiders the plight of the male witches. Maybe being a Brother is actually a good gig. You get to avoid all the usual relationship drama. You don't have to marry or tend to annoyingly needy small children. There is no pressure to provide for a family. You get to hang with your bros all day before you show up at night in the meadow down to fuck. Best of all, you can bed a different girl every night and that's cool. No one will feel betrayed or get jealous because that's how the Coven operates. You work all day and then get busy all night . . . all in furtherance of the vague cultural imperative Lilith calls the 'Old Ways.' Sheev might not be interested in balancing the Force to bring back the bygone days of Mortis, but he can see definite advantages to the witches' solution to work-life balance.
There's just one problem. It's a dealbreaker, too. For here, as in everything else, the Brothers lack power. For even in the meadow, the Sisters make the decisions.
Sheev observes the Brothers angling for invitations and competing for female attention. You can see something similar at any nightclub or bar on Coruscant. But on Dathomir, the women do not wait to be chosen; they don't passively attract a mate. Instead, they make their own selection. It's a subtle, but important distinction that reaffirms everything he's seen so far about the witches: the women hold all the power.
Sith that he is, he finds that situation to be intolerable. He's a Dark prince of the Shadow Force. That makes him a stealth agent of change at work in the galaxy. He plots to make impossible things happen. He crafts elaborate but plausibly deniable machinations. He commits to decisions that lesser beings would shrink from. Why? Because he is endowed with the Force and trained to lead. He is the latest son of Darkness in a long line of impressive Master and Apprentice pairings going back to the days of Darth Bane. In his tradition, men with the Force matter. They shape the future. They start wars. They build empires. But here on Darthomir, men with the Force apparently do as they are told by their women.
It's so wrong.
Glancing around, indignant Sheev feels a mix of pity and contempt for the Brothers. For here in this clearing resides a considerable amalgam of Force. Make no mistake—these dudes might be pussywhipped, but they have plenty of power. Sheev can sense all their combined Force blazing—the only thing he can compare it to is walking into a Jedi temple. And that makes the situation especially egregious. For what might these men become if they were properly trained and set their focus on a worthy goal? What if instead of farming and hunting rancors, their ambitions were unleashed in full? Forget the army of dead zombies Lilith bragged about—there's an army of Force-users alive and well right here. These men are a rare find as non-Jedi aligned Force-users. What an incredible resource for whoever can lead them.
It's food for thought . . .
"Mother, come! Join the dance! Pleeaase!" Sheev's silent sulk is interrupted when a giggling group of young women rush up to lure their leader to join the revelers.
Lilith regally declines. "Perhaps later. I have a guest to attend to." Turning to him, she inquires, "Are you hungry? Let's have some dinner."
Sheev dutifully defers to his hostess. It's how he finds himself seated at a picnic table throwing back tankards of water as he munches roast meat and strange vegetables. Dathomir's solitary moon is high in the sky by now. Together with the crackling bonfire, it lights the meadow party quite effectively. He can see everything easily, and there is A LOT to see . . . He's not trying to look, but it's hard to avoid looking.
"Do you do this every night?" he asks, tearing his eyes away from a nearby Brother who playfully tickles his naked and giggling female partner with a flower.
"Until it gets too cold," Lilith answers. "In winter, we move indoors."
"That makes sense." You can't have an orgy in snow.
"Community is our calling," she tells him. "We are meant to be together. To enjoy one another's company. To share in the joy and the burdens of life. This," she gestures expansively, "is the Coven."
Sheev nods like he understands, but he doesn't. Because where she clearly sees some profound overarching thesis about life and the Force, he sees frisky witches fucking by the light of a full moon. As a Senator, he's seen some strange local customs in his time, especially on nasty alien Rim worlds. But he's never seen anything like this. The fact that Lilith portrays it as wholesome makes it all the more bizarre.
"More water?"
"Yes, please." Sheev decides he will get drunk on water tonight as he watches other guys bone. There are worse ways to spend an evening . . . he guesses.
The meadow bothers him. Plus, all this sex strikes him as not very sexy. He's not really sure why. Maybe because it's too communal or too joyously uninhibited. In his mind, this sort of thing ought to feel like a guilty pleasure, like a foray into the forbidden, like something deliciously illicit. But it's not. He's sitting here still gaping with badly concealed shock while everyone else is acting like they're at a picnic that happens to be mostly naked.
Cresta will hoot with laughter when she hears about this. The thought makes him glum. Suddenly, he keenly misses his pissed off wife who has dumped him . . . again.
Lilith starts asking questions. "Are you a father? Do you have children, Sheev?"
"No," he lies. The truth is too complicated and personal to explain. He's not about to reveal it to the Mother Witch.
"Have you taken an Apprentice yet?"
"No."
"Is that because of your Master? Because of the rule of two?"
What does the Mother Witch of Dathomir know about the rule of two? Not for the first time, Sheev thinks Lilith knows far more than she lets on. But he answers honestly to get her talking in hopes she will reveal more.
"Lord Plagueis doesn't subscribe to the rule of two. He likes the idea of the Old Sith Empire, like back in ancient times when there were multiple Sith Lords who served a Sith Emperor." His asshole Master plots to someday have a cast of Dark minions prowling the galaxy to do his bidding. Personally, Sheev hates the idea, but he can live with it so long as he's number two and the rest report to him.
"Oh?" Lilith looks interested. "How many Apprentices are there currently?"
"Just me. So far." That he knows of. He wouldn't put it past the Muun to have his replacement tucked away somewhere. To say that his relationship with Darth Plagueis is rocky would be an understatement. Sheev is well aware that the only reason he's alive today is because he's very good at his very public job.
He shrugs to Lilith. "I don't have an Apprentice. I suppose I will eventually. The issue has not yet arisen."
"Hasn't arisen? How curious." She looks to him for more.
He explains, "In the Republic, Force-users are identified young to be raised Jedi. It is the rare Force-user who slips through their recruitment efforts." He himself only escaped the Jedi life because his Force sensitivity manifested later than usual. He had what Plagueis calls an 'awakening' in his teen years. Luckily, it was long after the Jedi Order would bother to train him, if they had known of his abilities, which they didn't.
"You'll be a good teacher someday," she comments.
"Why do you think that?"
"You are very patient."
"You're right." Patience is necessary for a modern Sith. He's spent decades plotting with his Master, slowly advancing by increments towards their ultimate goal. The progress has been glacially slow at times. Patience keeps him focused.
Lilith smiles. "Of course, I'm right." Flashing a knowing look, she announces, "I see the truth of you, Sheeeeev."
Does she? Does she really? He doubts it. Jedi Master Yoda can't see the truth of him. How could this Mother Witch see it after just a day?
Lilith muses slowly, "Yours is a great destiny." Dest-in-eeeeeeee. She trills her syllables and it gives her pronouncement extra emphasis.
Well, damn. Sheev reconsiders. Perhaps creepy Lilith really does know what he's up to.
She leans in close now so only he can hear. Lilith speaks low and slow, like she is confiding secrets. As a politician well versed in ingratiating himself, Sheev recognizes the technique. He's perfected his own ploys to manipulate.
"When the time comes to take an Apprentice," she coos, "don't go looking to corrupt a Jedi. Come to me, Sheeeev. I will have someone for you."
"A Brother?"
"Or perhaps a Sister."
He nods. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Don't wait too long. I gave Lord Tyrannus the same offer."
There's that name again. Sheev doesn't like hearing it. Could this mysterious Lord Tyrannus already be a second Apprentice to Plagueis? If so, that's all the more reason Sheev needs to make his move against his Master.
"I'd like to see the Brothers' village," he requests. He will assess the male witches to see whether one might be an Apprentice candidate. But if not, there might be men suitable for training as Sith assassins. Loyal Dark-adept acolytes are always useful.
"You shall go tomorrow," Lilith assures him, looking pleased by his interest.
"Mother! Mother!" They are interrupted again. It's yet another group of purple and red clad young women come to coax Lilith away to the party. "Lead the dance, please," they demand. It's clear they expect to get their way. "You know you're the best dancer," one girl shamelessly sucks up.
This time, Lilith relents. "Alright. Just one dance," she agrees. "Excuse me, my Lord," she squeezes his arm in chummy farewell before she rises. The Mother Witch is certainly smooth. It occurs to Sheev that in some respects she's a female version of himself.
Lilith joins the crowd of whirling dancers who circle the bonfire. The music begins again, and she hikes up her long skirt to perform the intricate footwork. The others were right. The Mother Witch is indeed a great dancer. Sheev watches her step lightly as he picks at his food. From a distance, he admires her lithe form. Her legs are every bit as good as Cresta's.
How old is Lilith? He can't tell. He guesses she's in her middle years, like he is. But that's not because of any visible lines on her face or droop to her jaw. It's mostly due to her supreme confidence. The woman has effortless aplomb, and that is a learned attribute, in his experience.
There is laughter floating on the breeze and music in the air. The vibe is chill. Sheev is starting to feel himself relax somewhat. As much as he can relax in this very uncomfortable environment.
Enough analyzing the Brother witch predicament, he decides. He turns his attention to analyzing Lilith. What does she want from him? There's clearly something prompting her personal attention. What's her angle on the Sith?
This is the sort of thing he excels at. For the secret to being a successful Sith is spotting weakness. Sometimes, it's straightforward. A guy's a spice addict or a compulsive gambler. It's obvious what he needs and why, and that makes it simple to manipulate him to achieve your ends. But most cases require more deft sleuthing. Few worthy adversaries are so transparent. What does Lilith Talzin want? What will prompt her to spill her secrets and share her ichor power? Sheev fully intends to find out.
Look at her dancing with wild abandon. Being married to Cresta, he's seen a lot of dancing. Lilith is really good. But even if she were terrible, he'd be staring anyway. Sheev's not sure why, but he finds the Mother Witch to be fascinating.
"Lord Sidious?" It's a female voice from behind him.
Sheev turns to find a witch woman come to approach him. Which one is this? He can't remember. He's been introduced to far too many women today. Many of them look alike to his newcomer's eye.
As if reading his thoughts, the woman helpfully supplies her name. "I'm Circe."
"Yes, of course." He instantly slips into politician mode. Smiling and turning on the charm. "We met at—"
"At the mill. I work at the mill."
"Right. I remember," he fibs. "The mill and granary were most impressive."
Circe nods and offers her hand. "The swing is open. Come swing with me?"
"Swing?"
"Over there." She points.
He follows the gesture to find the tree with the now empty sex swing.
Oh. "The swing . . ."
Wait—is he getting propositioned? He's flattered. Well, kind of. Mostly, he's flustered. Feeling defensive and put in the spot.
"Come swing with me." The woman repeats her request. She looks to him expectantly.
For the briefest of moments, Sheev considers accepting. The woman is decent enough looking for a witch. Like all the rest, she has a harshness to her angular features. In Lilith's case, it doesn't bother him. He's too enamored of her coy charm, impressed by her leadership skills, and intrigued by her mysterious power. But absent those inducements, Sheev generally finds the domineering Sisters to be unappealing. Moreover, he's not some randy kid ready to accept any chance at opportunistic sex. Even if, in this case, it might be some well-deserved payback to Cresta.
So, he declines. "Not tonight," he mutters, looking away.
The young woman doesn't seem to understand. "But I choose you," she maintains, sounding irked and looking pouty.
Her attitude rubs him the wrong way. Does she think he's part of the Brothers' stud farm? That she is entitled to command him to perform sex because she wants it? That might be how it works for the hapless male witches, but he's a Sith Lord and no one commands him save his Master. She can find some other guy to service her for the evening.
"Not tonight," Sheev repeats through gritted teeth.
"Not tonight?" Circe echoes as if perhaps she has misheard.
"Not tonight." This time, Sheev allows his eyes to flash yellow for emphasis. Is she getting this? No means no, bitch.
Sister Daka, the shrunken little crone Sheev met earlier in the woods, suddenly appears out of nowhere to intervene. The ancient witch administers a quick zap of green Force energy punishment to the offending young woman. The petulant whore flinches and gasps from the momentary pain. But it's nothing compared to the stern glare she receives from the disapproving village elder.
"For shame, Circe!" Daka hisses, green ichor flashing in her heavily hooded eyes. "This is not your place! The Jeddai is for Mother."
What is happening? Sheev isn't really following. Because in the context of the meadow, Daka's severe slut shaming doesn't seem to make sense. But he's grateful that she's rescued him nonetheless.
"Yes, Daka," the chastised young woman immediately backs down. Circe hangs her head and whispers, "I meant no harm."
"Be off with you!" Sister Daka huffs. Then, she turns to him. "Apologies, my Lord, for her effrontery." With yet another icy look at the offender who slinks off, sour Daka snarls after her, "It's a good thing Mother didn't see that . . ."
"See what?" It's Lilith sauntering up. Her normally pallid cheeks are flushed from dancing and she's smiling happily.
"Circe had designs on Lord Sidious here. I shooed her off."
Lilith looks amused at this gruff protectiveness. "Tell me you didn't hurt her."
Daka grunts. "I merely embarrassed her."
"Good. Because who could blame a woman for liking Darrrrtth Sid-eeee-us." Chuckling low in her throat, Lilith purrs, "I liked him the moment I laid eyes on him." It's shameless flirting, but it takes the tension out of the moment.
Lilith now bestows a beaming smile on him as she threads her arm through his and tugs him close. The habit is a possessive gesture, Sheev belatedly realizes. The Mother Witch pats his arm and it's a silent declaration to all in attendance that he is hers and hers alone.
Wait—is this a turf battle for his favor? Suddenly, Sheev starts to get worried for where this is heading.
"I'm married," he reflexively blurts out. It's mostly to avoid having to reject another would-be romantic partner. In his experience, women don't take rejection well. Something tells him that Lilith Talzin especially won't take rejection well . . .
"Married?" The Mother Witch is unconcerned. "Ah, yes, I understand that pair-bonding is common in the Republic."
Sheev now all but yelps, "I'm married and I'm faithful to my wife."
Old Darth Plagueis would guffaw at that awkwardly defensive declaration. And sure, it's a cringy power bleed in the moment, but it's also the truth. At this point, Sheev probably hates Cresta as much as he loves her. But he loves her all the same, even if some days it's mostly to piss off his Master.
Lilith low key pushes back. "Monogamy is such an unusual custom. Rather unnatural, in our view."
Lot of men back in the Republic feel the same way. But Sheev digs in. "I'm married." And even if he weren't married, he wouldn't be joining the witches' orgy. He's not sticking his unprotected dick in some gal who has probably fucked hundreds of her own kind. Who knows what disease he might catch? He's not one for public sex, either. He's been a Senator long enough to scrupulously avoid behavior that might compromise his career. He can only imagine the fallout if a scandalous photo of him at a sex party went viral on the holonet. He'd never be Chancellor then.
"Still, monogamy is not so unnatural as celibacy," Lilith continues her wry needling. "The habit of celibacy is most unnatural," she sniffs.
He agrees, but that's beside the point.
Thankfully, Mother takes the hint. "I understand," she coos as she soothes him like an upset child. "You're not the first Jeddai to be uncomfortable with the meadow."
There she goes again dissing him as a Jedi. It annoys him how she lumps the Jedi and the Sith together, as if they were the same ideology instead of diametrically opposed traditions.
"Come," she starts tugging him away from the meadow and back towards the village. "Perhaps you have seen enough for tonight. Shall we retire? Let me get you settled for the night where you may rest in privacy." Pry-vaaa-ceeeeeeeeee. Her emphasis on that last word makes Sheev think she's laughing at him. Lilith has that same mocking undercurrent to her drawl again.
She's acting like he's some prim virgin Jedi Knight, which he's not. So, just to keep her guessing and to reclaim a bit of swagger, Sheev decides to flirt a bit.
As she leads him away, he leans in to whisper in her ear. "Your ways are different from my own. I prefer to conduct my affairs in private."
"In private?" she goads. She lets loose another throaty chuckle. "Is that where you are a faithful married man?"
"I have a public image to uphold. But," he pauses for dramatic effect, "with a Sith, looks can be deceiving." Preening a bit, he playfully warns, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Try and deceive me," she taunts back. "Do your very best to dupe me, Lord Sid-eeeeee-us."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Oh, yes."
They are back in the forest now. The trees overhead obscure the moonlight and make it very dark. But Lilith seems to know exactly where to go. Sheev lets himself be led.
The Mother Witch muses, "The Sith deceive . . . everyone knows that. Tell me something else the Sith do well." She says this with maximum innuendo.
It's his cue to respond, "We seduce."
"Oh? That's not what I've heard. I've heard that mostly you kill."
"Then you've heard wrong. Our reputation for violence is overstated," Sheev reflects. "Violence is usually our least preferred tactic. If I can't deceive you into furthering my aims, then I will seduce you to make them your own."
"How does that work exactly?"
"It doesn't happen in a meadow."
Lilith laughs again. It's a bright, spontaneous sound that prompts him to join in.
"And if you can't seduce me? What then?"
"Well, then I might resort to violence," he admits.
"So, it's deceive, seduce, and then kill?"
"Perhaps. But not always. We Sith are rarely predictable."
"I'll remember that," Lilith smirks.
This banter is fun. She's enjoying it and so is he. "Darkness is eternal. It is inevitable," Sheev brags.
"Of course," Lilith easily agrees. "It is part of the Force, embedded in ourselves." The conversation now shifts from flirting to the Force. The Mother Witch declares, "What you call Darkness exists within all living things. We see it in the natural world every day. It's plays out amid the fierce, often violent, and always amoral struggle to survive. There is no fairness—no inherent justice—in the wild."
"So true . . ." Justice is just an expression of power anyway.
Lilith starts to vent. "The Jedi are wrong to describe the Dark Side as evil. It can be evil, but it's not always evil. Just like the Light Side can be good, but is not always so. Life is not as simplistic as the Jedi would like it to be."
Sheev nods his wholehearted agreement to this wisdom. "You're so right."
"Is the hawk evil because it slays the field mouse?" she challenges. "No. We understand that aggression in context. We see its purpose. That Darkness—the hunt, the kill, the dominance—is appropriate as part of the larger balance. It is the way of things."
Precisely. He summarizes: "In nature, the strongest and most powerful prevail."
"Yes. But where you Sith err is in pursuing Darkness as a goal. Lust for power, greed for resources . . . in the end those drives become self-destructive. The Sith have a penchant for nihilism," she chides him. "That's because Darkness run rampant makes one unbalanced."
There she goes again preaching moderation and dissing the Sith. "Do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side," he bristles at her condescension.
"Easy, my Lord," Lilith snorts before she quickly soothes, "I assure you, I do not." She looks him up and down before she lowers her eyes and promises, "I would never underestimate your power." She says the word 'pow-waaaaah,' and it's sexy as Hell. Lilith chews her words as much as she says them, and it's effective even if it's very affected. But whatever. He's not above a little theatrical posturing himself.
Unfortunately, siren Lilith sticks to her nagging, "The Dark Side taken to extreme does not empower. It weakens."
He disagrees. "If there are limits to the Dark Side, no one's found them."
"Yes, many fools have," Lilith replies. "They just didn't survive to pass down what they learned. Hubris is a dangerous habit," she trills. "Avoid it at all costs, and safeguard your balance, Sheeeeev. I like you too much to see you humbled."
That's witch catechesis, not Sith teaching. He shrugs off her fearmongering. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that point." Hubris isn't a Sith concept; the men of the Dark Side dare anything. That's what makes them so exceptional.
With a different person in a different setting, this conversation might become a bitter argument that would devolve into an actual fight. But with Lilith, this exchange of ideas is one part scholarly debate on metaphysics and one part verbal foreplay. Sheev could be wrong, but he senses sincere respect from her despite their differences. She playfully chides, but does not insist. Unlike the priggish Jedi, she doesn't lecture.
"I like this," Sheev chirps happily as they stroll back through the Sisters' village. "I like talking about the Force with you. Teach me your Old Ways. Show me your ichor." He wants to know all her best tricks. For surely, Lilith knows something that could help him kill Plagueis.
Lilith laughs low in her throat with a husky giggle that sounds downright devious. "I'll show you my power, if you'll show me yours . . . "
Oh yeah, now they're getting somewhere, Sheev thinks. For that's an unholy bargain if there ever was one. Who's seducing who in this bizarre impromptu alliance of theirs? This woman is hot. Really hot. Sex isn't her lure, it's the Force. Or, pow-waaaaah, as she says it perfectly. Damn-who knew that just walking and talking with Lilith Talzin would be more titillating than an offer to try out the sex swing in the meadow? What will she teach him? Sheev is filled with anticipation.
But his hopes for immediate magic lessons fade fast when they are interrupted.
"Mother!" A small shape darts out of the bushes and rushes headlong for Lilith.
"Maul," she smiles indulgently as the kid crashes headlong into her with open arms. It's the red skinned boy he met this afternoon. He's back and greedy for more affection.
"You're up late," Lilith observes when the boy pulls away.
"Are you back? I couldn't sleep. I need a night-night hug."
"Of course." Lilith collects the kid in a bear hug and lifts him off his feet as she whirls him around. It's clear that these two have done this nightly ritual many times before. "You're getting big for this," Lilith exhales from the effort. "That's harder than it used to be."
"I know. Look." The boy points to his right temple. "See?"
From his vantage point in the dim light, Sheev doesn't see a thing.
But Lilith clearly does. She gasps, "Oh! When did that happen?" as she fingers a small bump on the boy's forehead, looking thoughtful.
"Today."
It must be the beginning of the kid's horns, Sheev surmises, since they are both treating the bump as a meaningful life milestone.
"I was going to show you in the woods but then there was that rancor and I forgot." Looking forlorn in the moonlight, the boy laments, "I won't have many night-night hugs left . . ." His lower lip starts to quiver.
Lilith's face softens as she considers his downcast face. "The Brothers give hugs too, you know."
"Do they?" Maul looks up. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Brother Saul will give you all the night-night hugs you need. I'll make sure of it."
"Okay," the kid gulps. Looking like he's fighting back tears, he starts to stammer. "M-Mother, I don't w-want to go to the Brothers . . . I want to stay here with you and the Sisters . . ."
"But I thought you wanted to grow up," the Mother Witch teases softly.
"I do! I just don't want to leave . . ."
"The Brothers have a lot to teach you."
"I don't care."
"You will love the Brothers and they will love you."
The kid's skeptical and anxious. He pouts. "If you make me leave, I will run away back here. They won't stop me!"
Sheev watches as Lilith regards the scared boy tenderly. "Maul, no one will make you leave before you are ready."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes. And from the looks of things, you will have a year or more before the time comes."
"A year? A full year?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
"A year's a long time."
"A very long time."
"Okay. I guess." The boy relents.
"Anything else?" Lilith solicits.
Maul's eyes dart to him. Looking hopeful, he whines, "Will you ask him to light that sword again? I want to see it at night."
Looking amused, Lilith turns to him with eyebrows raised. "My Lord?"
Sheev takes the hint. Producing his sword, he lights it. "Here you go."
Young Maul stares wide eyed with admiration. "Wow. Just wow."
Sheev lets the sword hum and buzz for several long seconds before he extinguishes it.
He catches Lilith's eye above the boy's head. He sees gratitude reflected in her expression. Clearly, he just scored points with the Mother Witch.
"Run along now." Lilith shoos the kid away. "The sun will be up early. You need your rest."
"I know." With a big smile for Lilith and a little nod of appreciation for him, Maul disappears into the dark paths of the village.
Sheev's eyes follow him. He speaks his thoughts aloud: "The Force is strong with Maul."
"Very strong," the head witch agrees.
"Why is his skin different from the rest?"
Lilith's answer harkens back to the Coven's origin story. As they resume walking, she explains, "Like all of us, Maul is descended from the goddess, who we call the Daughter. We bear the genetic inheritance of her family. That means every so often, one of us is born with a resemblance to her sibling god. Maul is an example. That red skin of his—"
"It reminds me of the ancient Sith race," Sheev volunteers.
"It should. We call that skin the mark of the Son. A Brother born with red skin is born with an especially strong connection to Mortis. Brother Maul will grow to be extremely powerful with ichor. He could become a great leader."
"Is that allowed? He's a boy." From what Sheev's seen, Brothers don't lead, they follow.
"Maul's destiny lies along a different path from ours." Sounding wistful, Lilith reveals, "He doesn't know it yet, but in time he will leave the Coven."
"How do you know?"
"I have foreseen it."
Sheev points out, "That kid's afraid to go to the Brothers' village." Maul seems unlikely to emigrate from Dathomir.
"Uhmmm, yes," the Mother Witch reflects. "Maul likely subconsciously senses the change to come. It scares him. He is too young and inexperienced to know to trust in fate." Lilith sighs and states more witchy wisdom with palpable resignation: "You can dread it and you can run from it . . . but destiny arrives all the same. It is best to embrace it."
Is she talking about herself or Maul? Sheev isn't sure. But he agrees, "So true." The Sith are great believers in destiny as well.
Sheev thinks on the meaning of the boy's unusual skin pigment. "He's a favorite of the Force . . ."
Lilith snorts. "Favorite is an odd choice of word. As I understand it, to be a favorite of the Force is a dubious honor at times."
She's right. According to the tradition of the Sith, to be a favorite of the Force means that destiny-whether good or bad-unfolds through your decisions. The Force obeys your commands even as it controls your actions. Favorites of the Force are thus history's greatest change agents, be they heroes or villains. They alter the trajectory of civilizations, redirecting the crowded march of the status quo. And in their wake, when the wars end and the dust settles, inevitably a new era follows.
Now, Sheev's dying to know the boy's parentage. The Force has strong inherited tendencies, after all. But he knows better than to ask who Maul's father is. Do any of the Sisters know who sires their brats? Probably not. Besides, in this culture, it's the maternal line that matters.
So, he asks, "Who is his mother?"
"I am."
Oh. Sheev's eyes narrow at the casual reveal. "You're his biological mother?"
"Yes. I birthed Maul."
"I see."
"He is my firstborn."
"Does he have siblings?"
"Not yet."
Well, that explains a lot. Of course, the engaging boy with the promising Force who is doted on by the entire Coven turns out to be the Mother Witch's son. Sheev would have seen it earlier except young Maul, like every other witch child, calls Lilith 'Mother.' But in Maul's case, that's not a ceremonial title. She really is his mother.
That makes Maul the boy his Master sent him to kill.
The realization gives Sheev pause. Could the little boy who turns cartwheels, sneaks to look at his spaceship, and admires his sword really be the one to thwart the Sith? How could Maul—smothered here in obscurity—ever become a threat to their plans to overthrow of the Republic? No one on Dathomir gives a damn about the Republic.
This mission is such unnecessary paranoia on the part of his Master, Sheev inwardly fumes. This whole fucking side quest is a waste of his time. The mythical Jedi Chosen One prophet is far more likely to balance the Force and destroy the Sith than little Maul who wants a night-night hug. Sure, boys grow up to be men, and it's clear that Maul has great potential. But it's hard to see a path for the kid to be anything other than a complete nobody marooned on Dathomir.
But then again . . . his mother thinks Maul will leave the Coven. What does Lilith know that he doesn't?
Sheev starts asking questions. "How would Maul leave the Coven? Does anyone leave?"
"No one has left in my lifetime," Lilith answers. "If he goes, Maul would be the first."
"But how would he leave?" There are no spaceships here except his own.
She shrugs. "The Force finds a way to achieve its aims. Fate works in mysterious ways."
That's true, but the Force also works through practical problem solving and everyday decision making. "Someone from off-world would need to take him . . ."
"That would be one scenario, I suppose." Lilith seems entirely unconcerned about the particulars. But she also seems very convinced of Maul's future.
And that's when it occurs to Sheev: could the boy could be used to control the mother? If he had Maul as a soft hostage, would that give him leverage over Lilith? Would it enable him to compel use of her magic? Or maybe even use of the Coven's combined power? There are a lot of Force-users here who might be a very useful resource.
Sure, the Mother Witch seems willing enough to help him-even offering him an unsolicited Apprentice. But Lilith's a sly bitch, and Sheev worries she is preemptively placating him. Because the real prize is her own kid, not some random Brother Witch she will agree to be seconded to the Sith.
"How powerful do you think Maul will become?" he probes.
"Very powerful."
Powerful enough to help him kill Darth Plagueis? Maybe he doesn't need Lilith's help to kill his Master, but instead he needs her son as his ally. Shit! Why didn't he see this play sooner? After all, Plagueis is already concerned enough about the kid to order his assassination. Lilith, however, gets to live. That means the kid is the greater threat.
The only problem is that he's supposed to kill Maul. And that's a shame, because he genuinely likes that boy.
"My Lord," Lilith ventures, interrupting his plotting, "when we visit the Brothers tomorrow, would you mind if I brought Maul along with us? It might ease his fears if he had more exposure to our menfolk."
Sheev leaps at the chance to observe the boy who-one way or another-will be his prey. "That's an excellent idea," he immediately concurs.