Dathomir Darling

Your chest ached. You ran a hand up his arm, onto his bare shoulder. The muscles beneath his black and crimson skin were tense. He pushed against the covers like he was trying to get away from whatever horror was plaguing him, still no closer to consciousness. You faltered. Maul might not have his lightsaber in hand at that moment, but that hardly mattered when he could call it to him with the Force over just about any distance. Besides, he was a ruthless, efficient fighter. He needed neither his weapon nor the Force to kill you, even if it was just an accident because his sleep addled mind didn’t recognise you.

But still. You had sworn, to yourself if not in words to him, that you would always be there for him. You weren’t going to leave him on his own now.

You ran your touch across his collarbones to his other shoulder, so that you could have a hand on each side of him. Then, you knelt above him just enough to have some leverage, thumbs massaging his skin.

“Maul?” You tried, to no avail. “Maul, come on. Wake up.”

Still nothing.

So you shook his shoulders one time. His blazing amber eyes snapped open instantly and he lurched forward before you could so much as take a breath.

He flipped you onto your back and dropped his weight over your hips, both hands wrapped tight around your neck. He was somehow completely free of the sheets which had been trapping him. And he wasn’t just squeezing your throat and arteries, he was pressing your neck down into the mattress with all the fury he could muster burning through his veins. Your vision was already darkening – you had a couple of seconds before you were out. You used them to claw your nails into the insides of his wrists, to try and drive your knee into his back.

Head spinning, you saw the exact moment his expression changed into one of recognition. He flew back like he had been burned. You gasped for air, your head tilting a little from how woozy you felt. Your heart thundered as you brought your hands to your throat.

When your vision cleared enough, it was to see an expression of utter horror on Maul’s face. He was holding his hands aloft as if he didn’t know what to do with them, a line or two of blood running down his forearms from damage you had dealt him. He seemed frozen in place. You made efforts to steady your breathing, then went to lay a hand on his thigh. A motion you thought would be comforting while you got around to speaking.

Instead of that, it spurred him into action. He leapt to his feet and began to slowly back away from you, hands still raised in front of him in a display of placation, to make himself seem less threatening. His chest was heaving.

“I… I…” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “My darling, I…”

Fighting off the lingering dizziness, you sat up and got your feet on the floor.

“Maul, I’m alright,” you rasped.

Your voice gave you pause – you sounded anything but alright. Maul stopped too, his face a mask of devastation. You touched your throat gingerly, determining how hurt it felt. The ache below the skin said it was definitely going to bruise. But the longer you sat there, the worse Maul looked. So you dropped your hand back to your side and, convinced you weren’t going to pass out, stood up. The Zabrak looked like a wild animal ready to bolt, one which would lash out with claws and teeth if its exits were compromised. And in his haste, he had backed himself towards the floor to ceiling windows instead of the door.

Thinking that having him hear your damaged-sounding voice again would make things worse, you raised your own empty hands a little and took a step towards him. That was a mistake.

Maul shot past you, hugging the walls to stay as far away from you as he possibly could. His posture was once again immaculate, his shoulders and back cutting hard lines in the half-dark. He snatched up his shirt from the back of his desk chair without missing a stride, ignoring you as you began to follow after him. You jogged a few steps across his bedroom when he flung the door open and you realised he was just going to leave without a word. The Zabrak extended a hand behind him and called his lightsaber to him without first needing to check where it was, walking into the pitch black corridor running through his quarters seamlessly. You, of course, couldn’t see a thing.

You scrambled to follow him, flicking on lights so you didn’t trip over your own two feet.

Maul crossed the main living space with a grace befitting any predator, utterly surefooted. You were almost woozy again by the time you got the main lights on.

“Maul, please wait,” you called as best you could, because clearly just following him wasn’t going to help.

He gave you a fiery glare over his shoulder, though he refused to turn to face you. You stopped before you were close enough to touch him.

“Please just stay alright? Please,” you muttered, but his only response was a harsh scoff. “Maul,” you tried again, growing almost a little desperate. He stopped punching in the keycode to unlock his door.

“Stay?” He mocked slowly, sneering. His words were venomous. “You want me to stay with you, after what I’ve just done.”

The hand which he had been resting over the keypad dropped back to his side. You tried your best to make your voice sound more normal, to stay collected in case this was the calm before he lashed out. The only way he could deal with anything unexpected was through anger.

“We can just talk,” you offered quietly, “or not. I could make tea.”

“Tea,” Maul hissed, as if the very idea was abhorrent. “Do you realise, are you even capable of comprehending how close to death you just came by my hands? Do you have any understanding whatsoever of what I could have done? Of what I would have been responsible for and then carried with me for the rest of my own life? When I swore to protect you, it was inclusive of myself. Yet I am nothing other than what my Master carved me to be-”

“I am not afraid of you-”

“Well you should be!” He roared, his eyes wild.

He spun to face you, finally, but now he had his lightsaber in hand and he was advancing on you with his teeth bared, every line of his body rigid with the drive to fight. The fury radiating off him was actually enough to make you back up, and he didn’t stop until you were pressed against a wall on the opposite side of the room, his towering, muscular frame caging you in. But even through his temper, he never once lost concentration on his weapon. It was angled perfectly so that if the blades were to be ignited, neither would come anywhere near you.

Maul’s gaze caught on your throat, where a ring of bruises was no doubt already starting to form. He began to reach towards you, but suddenly realised what he was doing and went to drop his hand; you caught it before he could. With both of your hands wrapped around his own, Maul became very, very still. He grew even more tense, hardly breathing. You manipulated his fingers to lay flat, and he let you, but barely. Wordless, you started raising his hand towards your own throat. He realised what you were doing immediately and pulled away sharp, but despite the new distance, you still kept a hold of his hand.

“Maul,” you murmured, watching as fear and fury warred across his face. “Let me.”

You bowed your head when you brought his hand up this time, so you could begin laying featherlight kisses on the backs of his knuckles. You decided he probably hadn’t stopped you yet because he couldn’t believe what you were doing. You gently turned his hand over and frowned when you saw the wounds you had inflicted on his wrist. The bleeding had already stopped, but you had raked your nails deep into his flesh.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pleased to find your voice was improving.

You weren’t brave enough to look up and see Maul’s expression, but his unnatural state of stillness told you everything you needed to know. You placed another kiss just below his palm, just above the start of the first scratch. An apology, even if you would make the same choice over again. It was clear that your attempts to kick him hadn’t been all that successful.

With your head still bent over his hand, you turned it again and laid it over your throat in a single motion. Your only indication of anything at all from your partner was a single intake of breath, only just audible. But he didn’t pull away this time. You made sure his hand went exactly where his grip had been before. You knew how deeply rooted Maul’s fears and prejudices were, even if he never spoke to you about very much at all. Words weren’t nearly enough to reassure him; he needed physical proof of what you were saying. You had to show him you weren’t afraid of him, prove to him that things really were alright. Even then, he would still struggle to believe you.

When you looked up again, still keeping his hand on your throat, Maul’s anger had cooled to its usual simmering frustration. He couldn’t wrap his head around what you were doing, or why you would put yourself at such risk. You offered him a small smile, your thumb stroking over the back of his hand.

“I almost killed you,” he muttered, voice harsh. “I didn’t – when I dream, I do not always immediately recognise my surroundings upon waking. This is why I didn’t want you to share my space at night. I will have the next suite across converted into something you can use instead. You will have your own door to access my quarters, if you wish, but I cannot allow-”

“No.”

Maul stared at you, incredulous.

“No?”

You shook your head.

“I’m not afraid of you, and I am absolutely not going to start hiding from you. You’re the person I trust and care about most in the galaxy Maul, I’m not going to let you push me away.”

Maul was back to staring. For once, he seemed speechless, though you knew that wouldn’t last for long. So you took the opportunity to grab his other hand and lead him back towards his bedroom. He let you, but again, probably only because he was struck by utter disbelief. You flicked lights off as you went, eventually leaving you both in the dark once again. You could barely see the Zabrak’s outline, just the hard glint of his eyeshine reflecting what little light was seeping through the open bedroom door into the hallway.

“Come on,” you told him, “it’s really late. I want to go back to sleep.”

That was when he dug his heels in.

“I will not permit you to risk-”

“Then we’re both going to be standing out here for a really long time,” you challenged.

His lips might have pulled back into a silent snarl, but you couldn’t really see well enough to tell.

“You are impossible,” Maul growled, but it wasn’t really you he was angry at.

Sensing you were winning this particular argument, you sauntered closer to him until you could press a kiss to his shoulder. He watched you in a way which you guessed was supposed to be impassive, but that was hardly the truth.

“I get worse when I’m sleep deprived.”

You smirked at him, because you knew he could see perfectly well even if the reverse was not at all true. Another tug on his hands made him start walking again.

Maul complained incessantly when you insisted he at least run some water over the wounds on his wrists if he wasn’t going to treat them properly. He eventually conceded, however, because it meant he got to watch you tend to him – though on pain of death, he would never admit it.

When you finally got back into bed and he tried to confine himself to the very edge of his own side, you all but draped yourself over him and tucked your head against his chest when he tried to make you move. After a good long while of considering what he wanted to say, Maul finally admitted, in a sense, what was worrying him so much.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” he murmured against your hair, so quiet you could barely hear him.

You snuggled in closer, pleased when he lightly laid his hands on your back.

“You won’t,” you said with absolute certainty, eyes already starting to close.

“You don’t know that.”

You cupped his jaw and the side of his face, hoping he might find it a little soothing.

“It was only because of how I woke you up. If I’d left you alone, it would’ve been fine.”

Maul would not recognize love when it first starts happening to him because he genuinely has no framework for it, not personally nor even theoretically. If he's ever felt something resembling love before, he either never identified it correctly or deliberately repressed it before it could be recognizable. He would probably categorize the feeling more like respect, strategic interest, usefulness, pretty much anything except what it actually is

The confusion about his own feelings about you makes him irritable and I think he'd be pretty hot and cold towards you. One day he's seeking you out and lingering in conversations longer than he really has to and the next he's avoiding you and acting dismissive. The inconsistency isn't intentional manipulation, he's just very internally frustrated

His version of love would be very deeply tied to loyalty, more than romance or attraction or anything else. He desperately wants to be chosen by someone (not even necessarily in a romantic sense). Every meaningful connection he's ever had has ended in betrayal, loss, or destruction. So you consistently choosing him would affect him much more than any kind of traditional romance or direct affection or declarations. Loyalty is the closest thing he has to a love language imo

He gets attached pretty fast. Once you matter to him, you sorta matter too much, like it borders on obsession a little bit. There's very little middle ground with Maul and even though he doesn't really recognize what it is he's feeling for you exactly, it progresses very quickly

When he does have a vulnerable moment with you, he probably shuts down after and gets very cold. His instinct afterward is to retreat in order to regain control. I don't think this would ever fully go away though it might improve a little with a lot of time. I don't know that he'd ever be able to actually get super comfortable with vulnerability around you without compulsively putting temporary distance between you after each time

That's not to say he would never be vulnerable with you though, god knows this man fucking rambles, he'd trauma dump constantly without knowing he's doing it. Would likely end up confiding in you fairly often more intentionally especially after he figures out that you genuinely care. But afterwards he will need some way to make himself feel in control again and that often ends up translating to distance

Affection is very subtle to the point of being almost invisible. He is not physically affectionate, at least not naturally so. He doesn't really seek touch or verbal affection intentionally or at least not often. His version of caring about you is likely practical and potentially a little protective. He will remember everything you say. He will care when you are hurt or injured. He wants you to be safe. He values your opinions. He respects your strengths. That's affection to him

Any physical affection that does happen would take a long time. Starts out maybe with just physical proximity, then touches that can be disguised as something else (like letting you help him with his prosthetics and such), then slowly might get used to subtle touches to like the arm/shoulder and stuff like that. I do think he would eventually be able to take comfort in some touch, especially if it's very gentle, but he would never be a super physically affectionate person. When he does touch you there's usually a purpose to it, like gently tipping your chin up to look at him

Kissing would be rare imo. Often in more vulnerable moments and usually pretty impulsively. Like he might enjoy it but seeking it out does not come naturally to him. You're not really gonna get casual physical affection from him or romantic gestures and for him kissing is more often out of an impulsive desire for comfort than an intentional gesture of affection

Does compliment you relatively often. I think that it would be necessary for him to have some level of respect/admiration for you in order for him to fall in love. Some skill or competence or strength that he thinks is impressive. He'd often be very critical of you but when he does observe something you do or something about you that impresses him he'll say it

Kinda building on that, he respects strength and capability and the more you prove yourself reliable and resilient the more attached he becomes. He wants you to be able to stand beside him, not behind him. Being an equal means more to him than being adored at this point.

He seeks praise from you kind of desperately. Maul is, at his core, deeply insecure. He wants to belong somewhere. He wants to know all his suffering hasn't been for nothing. He needs reassurance and praise and validation but also has no idea how to get it or accept it.

I don't think he'd be able to tolerate any feelings of jealousy in himself. His trust is fragile and the moment he ever starts seriously questioning your loyalty, things will unravel. If he thinks there is a chance you could betray him, abandon him, choose someone else, his response is extreme. He'd convince himself that he was foolish for caring at all and the attachment would transform to anger rapidly. It's largely fear based; he's afraid of losing you, but he'll blame you for that fear

A relationship in a conventional sense would be nearly impossible for him to sustain because he cares in ways that are unhealthy and difficult to maintain. He has too much instability and defense mechanisms built around isolation and anger. You might become one of the most important people in his life (or THE most important), but even then the relationship would fluctuate between moments of startling intimacy and then emotional distance. Being loved does not magically heal Maul (at least not by itself). Worst case, it just gives him one more thing to lose

Like, you're going to have to deal with a lot of emotional volatility, his intense obsession with revenge, his fear and insecurities that manifest mostly through anger and controlling behavior. He doesn't want to control/manipulate you; he wants you to be there of your own volition. But goddamn will he (unintentionally) make it very hard. Having you there will in some ways be extremely helpful and comforting and good for him, and likely healing to an extent, but it could also very easily make some things worse

You lower yourself gently to lie on top of him, wrapping your legs around him and panting quietly as you bury your face in his neck. His arm comes up instinctively to wrap around your naked frame, pulling you closer to him. You seem so fragile like this, so precious, and so completely at his mercy. He supposes he's in a similar position, although to his surprise, the feeling doesn't trigger a fight or flight reflex in him. It feels good, in a way. He almost feels safe. It's not like he could ever reach the state of feeling fully safe and at peace — he doesn't think so — but these quiet moments with you — when you're pressed against him, and his brain is still foggy from his orgasm — are the closest he'll ever get to it. He feels a small, involuntary smile spread across his lips when he feels your face press against his neck. You leave a small kiss there, and he can feel your sleepy smile on his skin. He truly could stay like this-

"I love you." You murmur against his neck, and it is as if his brain short-circuits. He immediately goes still, and even his breathing seems to stop for a moment after hitching in his throat as if he had just been hit. He remains still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open. Then his hand tightens on your back before he tries to shove you away.

"Liar." He growls, moving frantically in order to get away from you.

"Maul. Maul!" You say softly, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. He stills again, and you press your forehead against his, taking your mental shields down and letting him in.

You feel his sharp intake of breath, and then the shuddering exhale that sounds suspiciously like something between a manic laugh and a suppressed sob. His arms tighten around you, almost crushing you against him, as if he's afraid you'll vanish. His hearts hammer against his chest, feeling as if they could jump out at any moment.

"You are a fool." His voice is strained, thick with emotions he's trying to suppress.

"I hate you." He growls, but it sounds more defensive and desperate than aggressive, as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you. "I hate what you're doing to me. I hate how you look at me. I hate how you make me feel. You make me soft." He spits the words out like they burn. "You should run. I will bring you harm. I will. I should have killed you when I had the chance. I should have."

He's sounding borderline crazy at this point, and you can feel his whole body shake beneath you. You know him well enough not to interrupt yet, though. And you are proven correct, for he soon stops talking, and the only sound that can be heard in the room is his uneven breathing.

You drop your mind shields completely, ensuring that you specifically direct the feelings of love and trust you have for Maul towards him. He makes another choked sound and buries his face in your hair. You soon feel wetness spread where his face is pressed against you, but you make no indication of it, knowing it would quickly snap him out of his vulnerable state. Instead, you wrap your arms around him, one of them coming around his neck and splaying across the back of his head, scratching softly against his scalp, just the way you know he secretly loves it.

the cat fluffs up, but does let Maul approach, and comes to sniff his hand when Maul offers.

he's confused by his own actions when he scoops the thing under his arm, not really knowing how to hold this tiny fluff.

getting back to his home hideout he fills the sink with water, and he wrestles this hairball into a bath, the little thing eventually accepting its fate. it does ruin a pair of his gloves, though.

Maul gets the thing food and supplies at a pet store, and the saleperson recommends a small toy as well. He glares at the salesperson.

but he gets the stupid toy.

the first little while is strained. the cat is timid, skittering around in the shadows, knocking shit over as it tries to find new places to hide.

Maul spends far too much time chasing after it, snapping at it to just please stop trying to get into the vents in the walls.

one day, Maul sits on the floor to meditate.

and a tiny little fuzzy head bumps into his knee.

he ignores it because he's meditating.

then the cat pads into his folded lap, nuzzling down without a care in the galaxy.

Maul sighs, but continues his meditation, finishing a while later, but now faced with a problem.

how is he going to get up with this creature in his lap?

so he stays there for a looong time, until it wakes up and stretches, turning its face towards him, mewling in satisfaction.

from there, anytime Maul meditates, the cat takes a nap in his lap. eventually, he learns that he can, in fact, meditate while scratching the soft ears of his cat.

it starts looking healthy and its fur is fluffy and dark, his one eye bright gold, like his own.

Maul begins to train the cat with treats to follow simple commands, working up to his favourite trick.

making the cat jump up his chest to perch on his shoulder.

the cat starts following Maul everywhere, nuzzling with him when Maul goes to bed. He sleeps well for the first time in months when this happens the first time.

Maul will sit on the floor, playing fetch with the little hunter, using the Force to hover and bob the toys in a greater challenge for his tiny friend.

it takes about a year for Maul to finally come up with a name for the cat. he just called it 'cat' or 'nuisance' until then.

but after he had gotten into Maul's closet and decided a pair of his gloves were excellent prey, he called him a little menace.

and that became his name, Little Menace.

~*~*~*~