Chapter Text
You understand why the Council sent you on this mission. You had been wrong about many things during your conversation with Maul. This endeavour was serious enough for them to deploy another Jedi Master, but Master Koon needed your help on the ground to find Master Kenobi and any other stragglers. Anakin and Ahsoka are working to save the togrutas from certain death, now that Agruss has seen to it that the ‘cargo’ will perish. You’ve tried to fight with the control panel as much as possible - but it’s been destroyed. A purposeful act of recklessness to rob you of your victory.
You’ve abandoned the console in favour of Rex, fearing for his life after taking on so many Zyggerian guards in his current state of exhaustion. The clone’s head is limp in your lap, but you can feel his life force shining bright as ever. He is severely starved and dehydrated, but very much alive. He is going to be ok. You do know that… but the pain. The suffering. The slavery that he and Obi-Wan have had to live through over the last few days. This is a kind of hurt that the clones were not designed to endure.
No living being deserves this. No one.
Your anger twists your face into a snarl as you look up at the Zyggerian slaver, sitting high and mighty in his hover chair as he laughs at Obi-Wan. This monster has put your friends through hell. The stench of Rex’s sweat and filth clings to the air around you as you stand - and you know Obi-Wan carries it too. Esteemed Jedi Master. Your life-long friend. He is so honourable and just and good; to see him treated like this is something you cannot bear.
You’re hyper-aware of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber as he ignites it. Bathing himself and the Zyggerian in blue light as he stands in his ragged robes, legs shaking and nose crumpling as he glares at the slaver before him. The Zyggerian merely leans back into his chair made of gold and rolls his beady eyes.
“Come now, Master Kenobi. I know a Jedi won’t kill an unarmed man.”
It’s his comfort in the knowledge that he has come to accept as fact, you think. This, merged with his utter disrespect. Disrespect for innocent lives, but most of all his disrespect for Obi-Wan. You ache to prove this vermin wrong. You hunger for it in a way that you have never craved anything before.
Show him.
It licks at your heels. Tendrils of ice that become deliciously hot as you let them take hold.
Prove him wrong.
You think you hear Obi-Wan utter your name, but there’s a drumming in your ears that drowns out everything around you as the Zyggerian looks at you with… Fear. Uncertainty. Yes. That confidence is seeping away. Melting as you yank the lightsaber hilt from your belt and ignite it.
Two, fiery red blades burst to life from both ends of the duel-bladed lightsaber.
You jolt out of your trance, dropping the saber in the process. It powers down and clatters as the hard metal hits the stone slabs. Then, one of the Zyggerian’s weapons buries itself into the slaver’s chest… Rex. He’s up, and he’s used the last of his strength to skewer the bastard.
“I’m no Jedi,” He heaves.
No. No, no, no. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. You can’t-- couldn’t have made this mistake. Couldn’t have picked up the wrong kriffing lightsaber in your haste to leave... But they had all been left together. You remember catching sight of them in the pile of clothes you’d left in the bathroom. All three hilts had been latched to Maul’s belt. Your two sabers on one side, the darksaber on the other.
No.
Each quick breath you take feels like shards to your lungs. Torture. You’re trembling as the Dark relinquishes its hold, giving way to a deep-rooted dread that threatens to bring you to your knees. Obi-Wan’s eyes are tight as he stares at you with a look of pure betrayal. It’s so fierce that you feel that impaling yourself with the saber would be less painful than this.
--
Maul’s holo image flickers before you, pixelated and bright compared to the dimmed lights of your sleeping quarters. Obi-Wan has been assigned the bunk above you, but you’ve not seen him since he was ushered into the medbay by a worried looking Anakin.
He is sat pensively, hands pressed together as though in prayer as he regards you. It feels like the strangest mood swap you’ve ever encountered. Here you are, a Jedi who’s about ready to erupt under the searing heat of emotions boiling to the surface. Then there's Maul, a Sith that's calm and thoughtful as he considers everything that you have just told him.
“I suspect that Kenobi will surprise you.”
You blink; eyes feeling grainy from all the crying you’ve done. Stars, you don’t think you’ve cried this much in your life.
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me,” you mutter miserably.
“I sense the connection that you share. You are close. Perhaps, if there was no war, he would have the strength to sever your kinship and hand you in to your Council… but I fought Kenobi before the war began, and I have fought him since. He has changed.”
“You killed Satine,” you feel the need to remind him - and it stings when he doesn’t so much as flinch. “He’s going to hate me. He’s one of the greatest Jedi I’ve ever known, but he’s only human.”
“Humans have an unfailing ability to make incredibly stupid decisions based on their perceived needs,” his eyes glitter with amusement. “I am lucky enough to know that.”
“Perceived?” You quip a brow, at which he rolls his eyes.
“Your life would be much simpler were you to have never spoken to me again after parting ways on Maluterra. You needn’t have accepted my invitation on Coruscant… yet you did.”
“I couldn’t have just ignored you. I needed…” You trail off as he grins, and your cheeks grow hot. “Shut up.”
“My stance remains the same. I suspect Kenobi will surprise you… if not, I will happily assassinate him if you wish to remain with the Order. Or even if you decide to leave. I will take any opportunity I get, truth be told.”
You shoot him your most murderous of glares, but all Maul does is chuckle.
“I must go. Now, go and speak with your dearest Master Kenobi - force knows I want to hear nothing more of him.”
“Alright, alright… wait!” He’s just about to hang up when you call out, causing him to pause over his own holopad. “Thank you… For listening. I know it’s weird. I get that you hate him so I-- just. Thank you.”
His eyes seem to dance with varied responses. You catch a flash of adoration, of hate, of his jaw clenching as his fingers almost flex into a fist… Finally, he offers you a half-smile.
“You may file it under my ‘unwanted but necessary Sith boyfriend duties’.”
It’s so out of character that you can’t help but laugh, and as he finally hangs up you suppose that’s exactly why he said it.
The room feels quieter without his projected presence. Colder. But you still feel the echo of his life force through your bond. Light years of distance dampen the connection, but the love he holds for you soothes away the worst of your guilt as you stand.
When the Jedi finally rescued you from Maluterra, you had no option but to tell them half-truths. You told them that you had fought Maul, and that it was this battle that led to the ship wreck. In turn, you both had no option but to work together to survive - both through the crash and the time that followed. What you failed to add is that you enjoyed his company. That, at first, you had wanted to kill each other… but by the end you dreaded the thought of letting him go. You did tell the Council that he wasn't entirely unbearable. That, sometimes, you were almost able to speak on civil terms. What you excluded was that you talked for hours. Talked about topics ranging from your favourite fauna in the universe to your views on the continued production of the clone army.
Guilt runs sharp through your chest as you think of how easily they had accepted your half-truths, half-lies. The force is so clouded with the dark side that it was difficult for them to prove you wrong. You had known this, and so you stepped into that room willing to risk everything. You lied to the Jedi Council - all because you were unwilling to admit what Maul meant to you.
And you'd do it again. And again. And again.
But, force, you don't want to stop being a Jedi.
You find Obi-Wan sitting in the hangar. Meditating. But his eyes flicker open as you approach, watching you warily as you battle back your anxiety and settle into a meditative position in front of him. Maul’s lightsaber is still at your hip. He allows his gaze to settle on it, and your breath catches as you fight the urge to run. Instead, you set your jaw and tighten your hands over your knees.
“Are you his apprentice?”
His eyes are made of steel as they meet your own.
“No. Never.”
“And he knows this?”
“Yes,” you grind out.
“He has your lightsaber, I take it?”
“Unfortunately.”
His eyes harden further as he studies it again.
“Are you able to retrieve your own with ease?”
There’s something else hidden in this question, and you think the ‘correct’ answer would be to say no - but you won’t lie. It's not fair to. Not now.
“Yes.”
He tries to keep glaring, but you can feel his resolve breaking… wearing down until there’s nothing but concern and exhaustion in his gaze.
“Then I suggest you return that before anyone else realises what it is. You will need your own for our next assignment.”
The shock is almost paralysing at first, but it slowly ebbs as relief begins to flood through you. Obi-Wan doesn't look happy… but he hasn't told you to kriff off, and he clearly isn't planning on telling the council now . He just… settles back into meditation. He doesn’t kick up a fuss. He doesn’t demand you leave and never speak to him again. He just seeks the tranquil depths of the Light. Rebalances himself.
You can’t help but stare in wonder. There is no emotion, there is peace. Never has a Jedi embodied this aspect of the code the way that Obi-Wan Kenobi does. He has slipped at times. The dark had called to him during his battle with Maul, and Obi-Wan had answered… but it was his ability to find peace amongst chaos that brought him back immediately. His dedication to the Light is far stronger than anyone you have ever met… You realise now that you were being ridiculous. Obi-Wan was never going to hate you, because hatred is not something he allows himself to truly feel.
Your gaze lingers on the freckles dotting his cheeks, and you wish with all your heart that you could be half the Jedi he is.
--
Maul is practicing Soresu when you enter, and none of the apartment's many lights are switched on. The blue of your lightsaber cuts through the darkness of the room as he takes a swing - so you instantly call it to your outstretched hand. Fighting back a smile to give him the hardest glare you can.
"I thought you'd be pleased that I’m finally giving your pathetic Jedi techniques a try," He drawls through a jovial smirk.
"You're hilarious. What did a girl like me do to deserve such a spectacularly sarcastic--mph"
He's laughing as he catches your lips with his. One hand settles on your cheek, whilst the other settles on the lightsaber on your waist.
"I think you have something that belongs to me," he whispers. Voice delicate with the humour still gleaming in his eyes. You bite your lower lip as the warmth of your love for him threatens to burst your heart wide open.
"Stars," you bring your hands up to hide your face from him, "I hate you so much."
"I know," he chuckles, then places a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping away. "I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Now, stay here - and close your eyes. Keep them that way until I say otherwise.”
"Hmm," You smirk, "Sounds kinda kinky. Are you planning on tying me up, Master?"
"Sadly, this is not sexual - though that is a fantastically tempting proposal."
Your eyes may be closed, but you don't need to see with your eyes. The force tells you that he's made his way into the bedroom, and you can hear the rustle of fabrics and the… click of plastoid? You're reminded of the clones and how their armour pieces clunk together during the training sessions you've occasionally witnessed. Soon he makes his way back into the main room, but you keep your eyes closed as instructed.
"You may look."
His voice is muffled by a modulator, so much so that most would struggle to make out who he really is. Your eyes land on him, standing in the frame of the bedroom door… suited up in a full set of clone armour.
It's a set of the 212th's armour. You don't remember the name of the clone who it belonged to, but you feel a pang in your chest for their loss all the same. It's clearly been taken from a soldier that the clones would call a shiny; the paint job is nearly brand new and glints underneath the light… You think he is expecting you to be happy, but you can feel your features twisting into a scowl as your temper flares.
"That's disrespectful," you spit. "What in the name of the force possessed you to--"
"I kept this set in the event that I needed one of my men to infiltrate Republic space. It has not been used for this purpose, and so I thought I might use it so that we could… go somewhere."
You stop short, caught between the searing anger that's raised your hackles versus the logic of his proposed idea. He really doesn't sound like Maul under that helmet. He is taller than the clones, but you're not sure that anyone outside the core planets would be able to tell…
"It's too much," your voice comes out shaky as you turn your back. "Please, Maul. Please take it off… and I'd like to take it with me when I leave."
Your bond crackles with agitation. He stands still for a moment, and you ball your hands into fists as you wait for him to argue… but he doesn't. His annoyance doesn't disappear, but he does head back into the bedroom and remove the armour as requested.
You step out onto the balcony as he changes - closing your eyes and connecting with the force as much as you can in the Dark's presence. As disrespectful as this little act of his is, you do know that it has come from the right place. Maul isn't like you. He has been raised to hate and self-serve, so you don't think he will truly understand the prospect of respecting the dead. He did not adorn the armour to disrespect the clones. He did it for you… Guilt pierces your stomach, and you clutch onto the handrails as you fight to even out your breathing.
"I've upset you," he murmurs, and you startle at the sound of his voice.
"I just… need a minute," you croak. Caught between yelling and apologising. The sigh he exhales has you grinding your teeth, but he honours your request by stepping back inside.
It's gut-wrenching moments like this that almost bring you to your senses. What am I doing here? You think of Obi-Wan, who's still recovering from his injuries back at the Jedi Temple. You should be at his bedside, flicking through holodramas and smothering him with well-wishes until you're both able to head back out into battle. Helping keep Anakin in line as he is off duty. Making sure Ahsoka gets time for meditation booked into her master's combat-heavy training schedule. Meeting with the Council to debrief them on what just happened with the Zyggerians… Instead you are here, returning a Sith Lord's lightsaber. A lightsaber that you accidentally took after sleeping with him.
You sigh shakily, and bury your face in your hands.
You don't realise that Maul's behind you until arms wind themselves around your waist. His chin settles on your shoulder, and his nose settles against your jaw as he presses a kiss to your neck.
"I apologise for my thoughtlessness," his voice is uneven as his arms tighten around you. "Please, my love. I can feel your disgust - and I am truly sorry. It was never my intention. I-- I do not want to hurt you."
"It's an unavoidable aspect of our relationship," you mutter, wishing you could make the tears clouding your gaze disappear. "It's only natural. The Sith ideals are so different to a Jedi's. It's unfair of me to expect you to understand. You don't really have anything to apologise for. Your logic was sound."
"Please don't," he spins you by the waist, forcing you to meet his eyes as his hands clutch your arms, "the way you say that-- it sounds like you are giving up. Please forget it. I swear to you, I will not do that again. I will think before I do something that foolish. Please forgive me."
His eyes are wracked with guilt, and it's this that causes you to pause. Sith don't feel guilt. Sith only hunt for power. To have him apologise for hurting you… it means a lot more than you're letting yourself realise. On the holocall you shared whilst in hyperspace, Maul had told you that you had been foolish to continue seeing him. But is he not just as foolish? He risks the control he has over the Dark every time he opens himself up to your Light. By all accounts, he should have killed you and used that grief to fuel his power a long time ago… Yet here he is. Begging the Jedi that he has allowed himself to fall in love with for forgiveness.
"I… I do," you relent, letting the tension fall from your shoulders. "You're forgiven."
His relief is downright contagious as he pulls you into a near bone-crushing hug, and you let yourself sink into it. The Dark raging inside him quiets itself subtly as you wrap your arms around him in earnest. The tears burning your eyes dampen his tunic, but he doesn't comment on it. You're grateful, truth be told. Crying is embarrassing enough without people pointing it out.
"Did you speak with Kenobi?" He asks softly as he combs a hand through your hair.
"Yeah," you sniff. "He only asked if I could get my lightsaber back, and then he pretty much let me off the hook… I think. He hasn't said anything to the Council, so I guess that means he's just ignoring it?"
Maul hums his agreement, chest vibrating as you shift to press a kiss against the patch of exposed skin there. Stars, the last few days have been one of the biggest emotional rollercoasters of your life. The war has been debilitating enough, but between Maul and the Jedi you feel like you're being pulled in half. You wish you could just make a choice, because you can't live like this forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to decide whether you want to remain a Jedi or leave with Maul… and become what? Not a Sith. Never a Sith. Not a darkside user either, but something else.
The anxiety radiating from his side of your bond stops your thoughts short. You realise that his two hearts are beating faster, and his arms are tightening around you.
"Maul?"
He shakes his head, then buries his face in your hair.
You're thinking about leaving. I can sense it. I apologised. I am sorry. Please.
Oh. Of course. That explains why he came out here in the first place. That's why he apologised, and why he won't untangle himself from your embrace. He can sense your unease. Your indecisiveness.
"I'm just thinking over the options I have," You reassure him, drawing back enough so that you can raise your hands to his cheeks. His eyes are wide as they meet yours - brimming with fear and racing with wild thoughts. "It's nothing to worry about. I promise."
"If you choose the Jedi then you will have no option but to part ways with me. Y/N, I told you that I would not bother you again if you decided that first night was to be our last but-- but I doubt I could honour that now. I love you. I love you far too terribly to just let you walk away--"
"I'm not walking away," you tell him firmly, causing his mouth to snap shut. "If I had plans to do that I'd tell you, but I love you too and I don't want to lose you. I just… I like being a Jedi."
"You can continue to help those in need outside of the Order," He murmurs quietly, gaze searing with such intensity that it makes your tummy flip. "Something is coming. I know you can feel it. The darkness clouds everything, and when it has finished taking hold of the galaxy you will be able to offer help to those in need."
"Taking its hold? Of the whole galaxy?" You choke back a laugh, "I can't see it being that drastic. The Jedi would stop that before it could happen. The dark is heavy, but we're in the middle of a war - it's only natural that it would take a toll on the feel of the force."
Maul recoils slightly, and you feel his mental shields solidify themselves as he stares at you. He looks… as though there's so much more he wants to say, but you're not sure you want to hear it in case it causes another argument. Is this why he's so keen to keep training with you? Because he thinks some sort of darkness is going to consume the galaxy? You almost want to laugh again, but he's still so tense that you think you're best off dropping it… You slowly guide his lips to yours, and soon the stiffness of his worries melts away.
"Anyway," you flash him a playful look as you pull away, "I can think of far more exciting ways to spend time with you than talking about matters of which I'd like to forget for a while."
A flash in your bond speaks of the anxiety still thrumming through his veins, but it's soon dampened when you push him back against the cool glass of the penthouse windows. You lick into his mouth as you kiss him again, and your hands dip into the open gap of his tunic to explore his chest. It's this that makes the last of his tension give way to desire.
Be in the moment with me, you whisper through your connection. Forget about everything else. Just for now.
He lets out a heavy exhale as you slide your hand into his pants and wrap your fingers around him. He's only just started to harden, so you gently begin to pump him softly. Coaxing him into hardness. It's fascinating. He had started out so worried, but your touch ends up rendering him into a needy mess. His lips are clumsy as he sucks a mark into your neck. His breaths are uneaven, hearts thumping wildly and chest rumbling with various grunts and moans. You're not sure how long you just stand like that, but he eventually catches your wrist in his hand once he's throbbing hot and thick in your palm.
"Too dry," He gasps.
His surprise and arousal are palpable as you draw your hand to your lips and spit into it. You assume he had thought you'd maybe push your own trousers aside and guide him towards you, but that's not what you want right now. His golden eyes are wide, pupils blown as you lather yourself with as much slick as possible before reaching down to coat him in it too.
"Fuck."
His forehead falls to rest on your shoulder, tilting slightly to avoid catching you with his horns. Your fingers slide far easier up and down his length now, so you use the force for guidance - reading him like an unlocked datapad.
"You're so fucking hot when you're like this," You growl, turning your head so you can take a deep breath of his heady scent. "Fucking needy for me."
"Always, always need you," He chokes, hand clasping the top of your arm - you're not sure if it's a plea to go easier on him or to keep going, so you do the latter. He's burning up in the force, as though the black hole of his presense is building up to go nuclear. You pause to rub the head of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum making the movement even slicker.
He actually whines.
"Yes," his hips stutter forward as he seems to crumple in to you even more. His other hand slaps against the pane behind you. "Please, please. Please."
"Beautiful," you murmur soothingly, and you raise your free hand to stroke the back of his neck tenderly, "Are you going to cum for me, love?"
"I-If you wish for me to-- can I?"
Fuuuuck he's so unbelievably sexy when he's submitting to you. You love having him manhandle you, but something about your ability to melt down his durasteel exterior until he's giving in to your every whim has a sinfully delicious wet heat pooling between your legs.
"I want you to project it to me," you whisper, then press a kiss to one of the bases of his horns, and his cock twitches in response. Interesting. "Let me ride along with you, hmm?"
"Anything," He rasps, and then growls hotly as you flick your tongue against the very place you'd kissed before. Fuck, fuck, fuck I'm going to cum.
Please do. Please cum for me, you nibble experimentally at that same spot and his hips fly forward. It's in that moment he starts to really project, and you moan wantonly as the tightening coil of his orgasm settles itself deep in the pit of your stomach. Your skin flushes maddeningly as you feel the hot ecstacy of your quickening strokes now pushing you both closer to the edge. It's the strangest sensation, feeling pleasure build from a body part you don't have yourself. It's nothing like the stimulation you're used to and yet you find yourself getting just as lost in it as your legs begin to tremble.
His orgasm tears through the pair of you like an atomic bomb.
Maul cries out in pleasure-pain as he finally bursts over the edge, fingers digging into your forearms so hard that you know they will leave bruises for days. His cum coats both your hand and the inside of his pants as you continue stroking him, squeezing the tip just a little tighter each time you reach it to draw out the pleasure just a little longer. The air has been completely knocked from your chest. Your eyes feel permanently stuck with how tightly you've squeezed them shut against the silent scream shuddering through you. Maul sags bonelessly, collapsing to the ground and giving you no option but to follow.
The position you find yourselves in is uncomfortable, but you can't find it in yourself to care. The delightful hum racing through your veins is like a shot of pure spice; the ache of continuing to hold his softening cock in your hand is nothing compared to how good it feels to… well, feel yourself holding him.
Zabrak feel things way more intensely than humans, you note silently - knowing your voice just won't work. You didn't even touch me, but that was the most intense orgasm I've ever had-- it wasn't even mine!
Maul just chuckles in response, and the sound stands in such contrast to the tension beforehand that you find yourself grinning. You must look ridiculous but, stars, you don't care. You couldn't care less even if you tried. His force signature buzzes with the afterwaves of pleasure that only you can give him, and in that moment you realise nothing matters in the universe more than this. More than your bond.
Not even the Jedi.