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o-wise-corvid · 2 years ago

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There Is A Child: CH 4

“Maul.” Windu’s voice thrummed with fondness. He rose from his desk, a squat little table where he could sit, have his tea service within arm’s reach, and deal with the near constant stream of updates, reports and queries that the Master of the Jedi Order was tasked with handling. The tall man rose up from this little staton though, spreading open his arms and enveloping the shorter, slighter Zabrak in a firm embrace.

Maul returned it. And for a moment, shed the years of training and maturity so that the lonely little boy who still dwelt within his hearts could feel this. The love. The acceptance. The faith.

“Master,” he said. Once. Lest the trembling of his voice be noticed. It was the same every time Maul came home. He would never say it but he missed his… his family so horribly when he was away. Their warmth. Their love that could be touched and held.

But this is why coming home to them wasn’t something Maul loathed. How could he? They were here.

“Too long, my boy.” Mace’s calloused, yet smooth, hands framed Maul’s face, tilting his head ever so slightly this way and that. “You’re thinner.”

“Mhm.” Depa smirked at the two, folding her hands within her sleeves.

“Hush up, enabler,” Maul grumbled but this only made the other Jedi snort and chuckle. Then he found himself once more enclosed within the adoration of his family. And the snark was suddenly difficult to find.

Their meal was simple. Flatbread with butter whipped with savory herbs, accompanied with a green salad for the humans and poached eggs for the Zabrak. And tea. Always tea.

Depa stifled her natural tendency to laugh as she watched her brother eat. She watched the subtlest of hesitations as Maul reached for his utensils. The quiet almost-question for permission. But then when he was unhindered, the Zabrak ate like a half-starved Dewback. She tried not to wonder when he’d eaten a decent meal last. Too often, Maul had gone multiple days without eating as a young man, not because it was withheld, but because he was too anxious to ask for it.

She and Mace shared a glance. But continued to eat; remarks would be a mistake.

“So,” Maul murmured around an egg-drenched piece of bread. He paused, wiping his mouth and then leaning back on the cushions to allow his full stomach to settle. “What is all this secrecy about?”

Mace handed his Padawans small cups of tea, not replying for a moment until he’d reclined back and had a sip. “It is not a secret. At least not you. You are… hopefully an answer to the situation.”

Maul’s brows lifted in quiet interest.

Cued by Mace, Depa spoke up. “Kit Fisto and his Padawan were sent to Nar Shadaa to help negotiate a trade with the Hutts and the Pantorans. Chemicals for medicine. Just a regular mission. They were ambushed however by a Mandalorian sect.” Depa’s brows pinched toward one another. “They fought the attack off; these Mandalorians could rudimentarily use the Force.”

“Mm. Most unusual.” Maul blinked, the steam from the tea ghosting strange against his eyes. “I still fail to understand how I am so important here?”

Mace wanted to smirk at Maul. He was such an overlarge tookah of a man. Down to the way his irises slightly contracted with his question. But Mace knew what was coming. And there would be no humor there.

“One of these Mandalorians was left behind. A child.”

The change on Maul’s face wouldn’t have registered to those who didn’t know him well. But Mace and Depa read the careful freezing of expression. The tightly maintained control about the lips. The narrowing of Maul’s irises to near-invisible slits… and the liquid bloom of acrid yellow that bled over the softer, warmer amber. That was the worst. The ghost of what Maul might’ve become had Plo Koon never found him.

“They’ve being contained at the moment,” Depa offered. “They’re not allowing anyone close. And they’re nearly emaciated as it is. Won’t eat. Sleeps only when they absolutely can’t keep their head up anymore. And their so filthy, Maul… we can’t even tell the species or gender. They won’t take off their helmet.”

Maul was very quiet and very still for a long moment. “This is going to be a very painful situation.” The words were… clinical. Detached. But the warning wasn’t lost on the other Jedi.

“We’ll help however we can. We know this isn’t going to be easy but-”

“No.” Maul shook his head. Not angrily. No. He even smiled a little. “For this child. They need this world… this life, like I did. But for them to accept it… that is the struggle.”

Mace reached over, across the table, offering an open hand to Maul. The Zabrak took it. “We knew you would understand this better than anyone. Even us. I have faith that you can help reveal this to the child. You are very stubborn.”

The three chuckled, but the levity of the moment was gone. Maul was quiet and removed again, deep in thought and memory, as he helped clean up the meal setting. The others allowed him this. But they stood on either side of the Zabrak, letting their closeness strengthen him. They all knew; Maul was going to need it.

“Stand just here. In the center.” The Quermian inclined a long, graceful hand, showing the tiny red smudge peering out from behind Mace Windu’s legs where he should place himself. The partially obscured boy shrank back a little, one fist clenched fiercely around the hem of Windu’s tunic.

“It’s alright, Maul. I will be right here. I promise.” Mace rested a hand lightly on Maul’s head, patting a little. “I’m not leaving you up here alone. It won’t take very long. They just want to ask some questions.”

The Zabrak shook his head. Hard.

“Come on, little man. You’re so brave. You can do this.”

The praise rested oddly on the little one’s ears. Mace wanted him to do this. But the praise came first? Before? Why? That was… backward. He hadn’t even completed the test yet…

So he hurried forward. Before the pain to make him do things caught him. And the hopeful feeling Mace had spoken with curdled in his throat.

“Hello little one. Can you tell us your name?”

Maul squinted. This was the Jedi who’d brought him here… had he forgotten? This was puzzling. Mace had also just said his name. Was Master Koon deaf suddenly? “You know my name…” he muttered sourly and then immediately slapped his hands over his mouth, hunching in case the Kel Dor became angry with him.

Plo Koon chuckled however. “You’re right. I do. But we need you say it for our records, if you don’t mind.”

Maul’s breathing slowed with relief and he swallowed hard. “Oh. I-I’m Maul.” His feet shifted on the hard, stone floor, the cold making his bare toes ache. Maybe he should’ve let Mace put those shoes on him that morning but… too late now.

“See the pad I hold?” Another Jedi, smaller than Maul, green and absolutely covered in wrinkles from his long, tapered ears to his three-toes, clawed feet. “A game, we shall play. See images on my side, I can. Guess them, you should.”

A game? Depa had played a few of those with Maul. He liked them. So far. He nodded his head.

The green Jedi smiled and then nodded. “Guess.”

“A… cup. A… sh-ship. A-another ship. A…” But Maul frowned, squinting. In his mind, images and shapes had seemed to pop into existence, and he just… said them. He’d seen them before. But this one… round with spikes all over it.

Maul glanced at the green Jedi, trying to wrestle his breathing down. Keep it even. Showing fear earned pain. But how could he say what he saw if he didn’t know it’s name? How was he supposed to accomplish this? They were going to hurt him. He wasn’t doing what was ordered.

“Little one?” Plo Koon leaned forward, bracing a clawed hand on the arm of his chair. “Are you alright?”

“Much fear is in him,” Master Mundi mused with a sad shake of his head.

The Zabrak before them was trembling so hard that his knees could be heard knocking together. Chest heaving, he bowed his head, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Don’t… don’t know what it is. Round. Spikes. Don’t know the-the n-name.” His face scrunched up into a braced grimace, waiting for a blow, a cut, a shock… anything. Pain. It was coming. It was always coming for him.

“Maul? Come… come on. Relax. Breathe. Breathe, little man.”

Mace’s heart clenched painfully when even under gentle touches, the little boy’s entire body jumped. He even cried out, a terrified sound.

“No, no… come on. Doesn’t hurt, see?”

There was a silent instant of tension in the room as Maul processed that he wasn’t being harmed… and then nearly collapsed into Mace’s arms. Shivering. Scraping his face free of tears.

“Not crying,” Maul insisted to no one, his voice so low Mace almost missed it.

He lifted his head, looking to the Council. “It’s… not easy for him. And probably won’t be for a while.”

“Understand, we do.” Yoda slipped on his chair and carefully approached the huddled pair. He held up his three-fingered hand so Maul could see it and then rested it on the boy’s brow.

Maul’s eyes widened, irises slitted, but then under the gentle touch, visible relaxation spread over his small frame. Until the eyes dropped shut. And he leaned against Mace’s chest, slipping into a deep sleep.

“Of improvement, the Healers speak?”

Mace nodded. “Slow. But yes, Master.”

“Time, it will take. Patience for this one, we will keep. Strong in the Force, he is. Wasted, he shouldn’t be.”

Mace stood, picking up the little boy who sighed heavily in his sleep. “Agreed. Thank you for letting me work with him, Master.”

Yoda chuckled. “Your Padawan, he will be. Decided it is.”

“Uh…” Windu looked at the rest of the council. Who all chuckled at him. He smirked at them, unable to fend off a grin as he carried Maul to the lift, and then to bed. That eventuality had been exactly what he was going to ask for.

#there is a child #chapter 4 #gen writes #jedi!maul #they au #I really love the Jedi Fam dynamic #just it’s so precious #NEXT CHAPTER WE MEET A BAAAAAAB

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