Shear the Lion, Fear the Lamb | Chapter One
Summary: Heavenly Mother blessed you with both her Light and her Shadow, that was what you were taught from childhood by the priests who raised you. No one on that small, forgotten moon knew the Goddess as you did. You were Her most beloved one. That was why, on your eighteenth birthday, you had to die.
Only you didn’t. You fled. For seven years, you lived with the fragile shards of your sanity. At first, there was another, but even he was led astray and you found yourself alone again. Forgotten by all, except for your Goddess. Even now, at your lowest, with your body frail and feverish, starvation nipping at your heels, She was with you. Lovingly held in her embrace.
That was until you met the Devil.
In short, Maul’s new apprentice may be more trouble than they’re worth.
CW: Reader is unwell, mentioned past sexual assault, homelessness, reader is also filthy and malnourished, fever, religious fanaticism, negative portrayals of religion, cults & trauma associated with cults, suicidal ideation, and reader is transmasc but in deep denial. They don’t have time for all of that, they’re busy losing what’s left of their mind.
Disclaimer: I am taking sooooo many liberties with this fanfic, I’m just having fun here and writing the dynamics that I want to see in the world. This is to say that this is my first time writing Star Wars fanfiction despite being a fan for years not, and this is a conglomeration of my own ‘what ifs’ and hypotheticals that I’ve been rolling around in my head for some time. I hope you stick around to enjoy! There’s more info in the A/N at the end of the fic regarding things I’m cooking up here!!
There was blood on your skin. Tacky, sticky, cloying, it made your clothes cling to your trembling frame. You could hear the chatter of your own teeth. Feel the stinging, crawling, creeping touch of the Lady Light against your body. She could not warm you, She could not save you, whether it was Her will, or merely Her power, wrenched from holy hands into yours stained black. It was impossible to know.
You were so cold, though the sun beat down against whatever piece of bare skin that it could find. Rays of heavenly gold wrapped around you despite the viscera in which you found yourself soaked. Forgiveness? No, even Her condemnation was…
Still, you trembled and shook until your muscles were sore. Your throat was raw, peeled to the bone, addled from how much blood (blood, blood, blood) you had inhaled. The metallic taste made your tongue feel heavy. It was disgusting. Hot, burning— you hated that you knew what your flock tasted like.
A field of wildflowers spanned the space around you, so beautiful. You were home again, maybe. It was hard to be sure. Each time you tried to focus your vision would splinter and you would hear your father’s sermon.
—and tainted by your touch. The wildflowers pushed away from you as if you were a walking breeze. You wondered if the screaming was coming from them, not from—
At your back you was the church. Singing not screaming. A choir. Behind your fluttering eyelids, you saw flashes of the stained glass within. There was a basin carved into the altar, made of a pure white that only the most untainted could be formed from. A statue was settled above, arms open and inviting. Golden sunlight and flaxen hair, each bowing under the weight of what must be done.
(Knives and bodies, drained of blood.)
Blood, blood, blood, it was everywhere. In your hair, your stomach, your lungs. You could feel it congealing behind your molars. With each breath, you could feel it bubbling, coiled deep within. A serpent, the Serpent. The deceiver, he was inside of you, roiling and twisting, filling you with power and tainting what the Lady Light had so blessedly granted.
Holy power, Her power, at your fingertips, the voice of the Mother who would never lead you astray— which was Her and which was yourself?
It crackled between your fingers, pulsed within your veins.
By the time you snapped awake, you were already hyperventilating. Through the delirious haze of awareness, you managed to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle any sound, curling deeper against the crates that you had hidden yourself against. It was hard to breathe like this. You had covered your nostrils as well, relishing in the burn of your lungs. It’d be nice if instinct didn’t take over, if you could fool the Goddess into believing that you had suffocated yourself by accident. Closing your eyes, you focused all of your energy on checking if there was anyone in the room with you. On this particular ship, they had checked for stowaways after each port. You had yet to be found.
You could feel the will of your Goddess — heavenly and holy — stretch out away from you, a sixth sense almost entirely separate from yourself. It crawled through the cracks and crevices that encircled you in a sweeping gasp. Reaching out Her hand to tell you if you were safe. There was no one else in the room with you. Their soul would have reached out to entangle with your own, the roots of your all-loving Goddess pulsing with theirs. Sometimes you wondered: how could they not feel Her touch? In the end, you decided not to think too much about it, it took too much energy. Dilated pupils stared up at the metal ceiling, your lips moving in a silent prayer. You were alone. You were safe. That was all that mattered anymore.
It had been… five? (Yes, five, you felt the Lady Light breathe against your ribs) Five years since you had been left on your own, and seven since you had been excised from your home. According to Neo, your commune had been living on a small moon orbiting a planet somewhere uncharted and wild. The name of that particular space escaped you now. Neo had once told it to you, or perhaps he had many times, but the subject always got lost in his voice. Deep, humming tenors that soothed any aches that you had. You basked in that, instead. He laughed whenever he noticed, sweet and warm, like honey baked bread. Hands encircled your crown, rubbing against your scalp in gentle motions.
It was too bad that there was no longer a home to return to, and an even deeper shame to think that you would likely never see Neo again. The galaxy was more vast than you ever thought was possible. Father Sanctity had told you that all who mattered laid within the flock, and Father Damnation said that those who existed elsewhere were riddled with sin. No matter how much they repented or prayed, they would not escape from the clutches of Darkness. Despite this, you could feel it. Within every nook and cranny, the planets you visited stowed between cargo, you could feel the Lady Light’s touch. She had made it all with so much love, you couldn’t understand why only a select few were chosen to walk with Her to Paradise.
There was a lot you didn’t understand. Neo helped you, but he was gone now and you were alone with only the teachings of your fathers and a galaxy that you didn’t know.
You remembered once that Neo had offered to take you to a planet called Coruscant. He had told you that you would be safe there. The Jedi would find somewhere for you to go, touched by Her power just as you were. Unfortunately, the idea of being with others like yourself made your skin crawl. It had been so soon after you had left your home and you could still taste iron in the back of your throat. You were supposed to die— to drown. To relinquish your flock from mortality, a great rapture in the wake of your annulment.
It was hard to remember, especially alone. Shaking, a warbling whimper strangled from your throat as you clutched your head. You balled your hand into a fist, fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm, and reared back to strike. Again and again, you pounded against your skull until the memories subsided and you were left only with a searing headache. A prayer was stuck in between your teeth, quieted only by a noise that you recognized as the ship falling out of hyperdrive.
Once landed, you would stay on this planet for a while. You did not know where or what its name would be until you took care to listen. All you were aware of was that the stench of your waste in the far corners of the room and the cargo you had nibbled on would be noticed eventually. Soon. For your own safety, you had to leave. Your only hope was that the Empire had left your new temporary home untouched.
In the end, it was good that you did not seek out the Jedi for help. They were all dead now, and you remained, soaked in your own excrements and malnourished, but alive. You knew it like you knew how to blink and how to breathe.
When you died, you would go to Hell. You were not ready to burn yet.
The ship lurched as it landed and you tucked yourself away until you were certain that it was empty. Luck had something to do with the fact that they had yet to begin hauling out the cargo. Your Goddess protected you even now. On your hands and knees, you crawled to the edge of the door. Carefulness was often well rewarded, so you asked Her to reach through you and tell you if anyone remained. Two sparks echoed from the cockpit, well away from the belly of the ship. You opened the door, flinching at the hiss of air as it slid open. It made your eyes burn.
Your knees knocked, stumbling out into the hall, barely able to contend with the trembling limbs that you were born with. They were skinny in a way that made you nervous. All of your body fat had melted away in your time homeless, living off of the dredges. What you didn’t get from begging, you obtained from that which was discarded. The Lady Light provided in Her own way, even if you weren’t sure if it was enough.
Pulling your thread bare hood over your head, you walked, crawled, shambled out of the ship and onto the dry ground of the yard. It was bustling, the amount of life around you was enough to nearly blind you. Distantly, you recognized that you needed to act like you belonged here. Pretend like the ship you had exited from was yours to nest in. That was hard to do when you looked like a walking corpse.
Your hair hung flat and lame, whatever volume it once had gone with your inability to wash. Only the rain was your shower now, no matter how toxic. There was a lifelessness to your eyes that made people avert their gaze and a dizziness to your gait that made it hard for you to keep straight. All you had were the clothes on your back, the same ones that you had worn for weeks now— maybe months. They stank, the linen soaked in sweat, tears, snot, and spit. You tried to relieve yourself as carefully as you could, but it was hard to stay upright at times. It was best not to think about it. Pity made for a good protector. You were weak in a way that made people sick to look at, not even those you had wronged would add to your evident pile of hopelessness. You would be dead soon, anyway. With how your vision blurred and the weakness in your limbs, you were inclined to agree.
All that thought did was make you stand a little straighter. You could feel your Her love press against your joints, strengthening you as much as your weary body would allow. Though the shipyard was crowded, and though there was no denying that you did not belong, people allowed you to melt into the throng. There was an Imperial checkpoint, but no one paid attention to the child of the Goddess, so close to death’s door. Lifeforms, humanoid and not, walked alongside you, a testament to the creativity of the Mother. Your head swam, the world melding into a blend of watercolors. It was a pretty painting.
You walked for either hours or minutes, no matter which, it ended in you panting. Drool seeped down your chin, the city streets bursting with an energy that you lacked. Swallowing the ball of spit that had built against your tongue, you felt it slide down your esophagus, slow and steady, before it plopped into your empty stomach. There was a wall against your shoulder, smooth and made of some sort of clay. It was hard to see considering that you were collapsed against it. Your body was hot with fever.
“Oh, my Lady,” You murmured, even your voice sounded foreign. “Forgive me for my cowardice, I am not yet ready to die.” Someone bumped into you, pitching you forward onto your hands and knees. The ground peeled back the skin of your palms. If you deluded yourself, you could almost hear them apologize. “Give unto me a savior.” Quieter now, the words were more of a sob than a prayer, “Help me.”
Nobody heard you cry out.
You crawled forward into the mouth of an alley, the voice of your Goddess whispering haunting promises against the base of your skull. Follow me, She said. Let me lead you to a new beginning. Something dark began pulsing along your back, and you knew that this was not the voice of your Mother, but the voice of Envy and Pride. The Devil, or some other demon meaning to lead you into temptation in your time of weakness. To know that when you died, no matter if you resisted or not, you would be led astray made it hard to deny this voice. It was not new, nor was it separate from your Goddess, they were two sides of the same coin, you had come to find.
One frightened you more than the other. Yet, you were so desperate, you tensed your fragile muscles to keep from crawling forward. Oh, how you wanted to be saved, to be well-fed and smiling once more. Mortal life was meant as a trial, that is what Father Sanctity said, it was not meant to be happy. It was meant to make you suffer, to make you weak to the call of darkness. You had to be stronger than that.
After so long, you weren’t sure if you had it in you to be strong anymore.
“Are you okay?” A voice pulled you away from the call and your body snapped to kneel, then bent backwards to stare, curled, at the big eyes of a child. The innocent, the tender, the meek and mild, untouched by sin. It took everything within you to smile. The child grimaced and wrinkled their nose. “You smell really bad.”
It was nearly impossible to flip around to face them. You were panting from exertion by the time you were done, though your smile never waned. “Oh, Heavenly Mother, I thank you for your holy light, for this child shines like a star amidst the black.”
“… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ten. The child had to be ten, you felt it in your bones. In their hand was a box that smelled of savory spiced meats and sauces. They followed your gaze as it flickered from them to the box. “Are you hungry?” When you nodded vigorously, the child frowned. “It’s not very good, I didn’t like it much.”
“Any gift from the Lady will be accepted with joy and grace.” You licked your lips before bowing your head and outstretching your hands. “Please. Have mercy.”
The plastic container was heavy in your hands and you nearly began to weep. Considering the discomforted way that the child stepped away from you, it seemed that you were unable to keep the tears from flowing.
“I have to go now. I…” Pity swam in their expression, staring at you as though you were a baby animal left to die, looking almost as natural as the disgust the emotion had mingled with. “I hope things get better for you.”
“I have been blessed,” You began to ramble, not noticing the child’s receding footsteps. Between each bite you brought to your mouth with your bare and shaking hands, you thanked your Goddess for this meal. Your stomach clenched, angry at being filled so fast. How long had it been since you had last eaten? Moving didn’t hurt as bad as it did before, your thoughts far less sluggish and vision unblurring.
It was now, with a full belly and dirty hands, that you finally took in your surroundings.
The roads were made of well trod dirt, and occasionally, cobblestones when you looked farther down the street. Tall buildings reached skyward, likely to keep out the sweltering heat that licked against your bones. With small windows, and arching doorways, the architecture was beautiful in an unfamiliar way. Most importantly, as your eyes scanned the holographic screens that lined the streets, it seemed that the Empire had yet to touch here too much. The Goddess smiled upon you yet again, it seemed.
Though your limbs continued to shake, you tucked the container, still filled with food, into your shawl. Nowadays, it only took a little to fill you up. Your stomach had shrunken so small that it could barely hold but a few mouthfuls. Eventually, you would be hungry again. It was nice to know that you did not have to go digging through the trash to get sustenance once more. Behind you, that dark voice continued to beg for you to follow. Something interesting would happen if you did. You paid it no mind, choosing instead to make your way back, deeper into the crowd, to find somewhere to sleep. Boring was better, especially when all you wanted to do was survive. With your belly so full, your eyelids were starting to grow heavy.
Unfortunately, the street opened up to display a bazaar at the peak of the day. A dainty frown decorated your features. There were too many people here, too much temptation. Jewels that could buy you months of comfort, food that smelled better than the box you held against your chest, weapons to protect yourself with, it all sang to you. Stealing was a sin, and you had sinned far too much already. Your soul could only bear so much without Lady Light’s intervention. Her kindness had limits, Her wrath would be sure to follow such a blatant disregard of Her path.
Shopkeepers eyed you, wary of those your type, haggard and desperate. They had likely been robbed before. You tried not to stare at the blade, sat upon a satin pillow a few stalls over, so blatantly in the open. With that, you could sleep without fear again. Though you were pitied and filthy, there were still those who saw you as a body to take rather than a person. Clutching your head, you burrowed your fingers into your scalp.
My Lady forgive me, please forgive me, for I am a virgin no more. You had not been for a long time now, this body of yours more of a currency than the meager credits you were able to find. Even then, you had been taken and touched by filthy hands that you were desperate to forget. You tried to fight, you tried to struggle, all in vain until you called upon Her wrath to smite those who had dared to violate you. By the time you had risen, their bodies were cold and the blood between your legs had dried. That knife back there would keep such an act from happening again. At the very least, you could kill yourself before—
No, no, my Lady Light, I would not dare. Forgive me, please forgive my weakness for even thinking of such a vile act. To forsake the life that you had so kindly been given is the highest disrespect. You had to die a natural death, and maybe then She would take pity upon you and allow you through the gates.
Again, your vision began to swim, though this time not from hunger. It was beginning to become hard to keep your eyes open. Pushing through bodies, you slipped between the crevice between two buildings and found yourself in a maze of alleyways. The deeper you went, the darker it became until the sun was blotted out and you were left in the frigid cold. You curled up next to a trashbag, uncaring of the stench, and wrapped your cloak around you until you resembled a second pile of refuse. Where you belonged, you supposed. Your Lady would not lead you here if She did not feel that you were among your own kind. This was Her protection and Her cruelty all in one.
You felt your mind slip away as the world went dark.
There was the statue and the altar from your church back home, open armed and inviting you against its embrace. You fell into its bosom, face buried in its lap as you begged. For what? You could not hear your own voice.
It is too much, it is too much, please forgive me. Forgive me and I might know peace. Release me and I might know agony.
So many dead, a galaxy felt devoid of stars, blackened skies yawning overhead. How could you be cowering here when so many were lost?
Pathetic, dearest child, my most beloved coward.
A single marble hand found the back of your head, petting and stroking as your mother would have.
I am no coward. As the statue listened, you kept your head bowed, averting your eyes out of respect. Though I am afraid, I carry on, and oh, how I fear. How I fear you, my Lady.
Then awake and learn that there is more to fear than I.
Footsteps were what stirred you from your tattered slumber, followed only by the skittering of roaches, hurrying to make way for whoever had slipped into your cavern. Tendrils of shadows, slick with oil lapped at you, whispering in one thousand voices at once. Something dark was coming, someone touched by sin. You were no dragon, no fox in the burrow, so you remained as still as you could, your eyes shut so as not to witness what walked your way. They would pass you by, mistaken for more garbage against the side of an alley. Would this be another night of teeth and skin awaiting you? Or perhaps would this be the release that you had been waiting for. Once taken, your throat would be slit and your body would remain in these forgotten crossroads to rot.
A ghost of a smile almost chased away the shadows.
An emotion brushed against the base of your skull, distant, faraway, and decidedly not yours. All you could do was remain still and focus on becoming as inanimate as you felt. It was curiosity, the spark of another lifeform growing closer and closer from the depths, until it was right beside you. The figure stopped and you heard them sniff, a masculine sound of disgust escaping him. Probably due to the smell of your filth.
“I know you’re there.” His voice was smooth and deep, like velvet. You remembered when your mother had sewn you a stuffed toy out of that soft material and how sweet it felt against your skin. Father Sanctity threw it into the fire when he caught you playing. You remembered watching it burn.
Unable to stop it, even when you held your breath, a whimper pulled from your throat and you felt his gaze fall upon you. You could feel how he waited for you to uncurl. There was no more denying that you were there, you knew you were visibly trembling. A sigh puffed from his nose before a hand wrapped around your wrist, wrenching you to your feet. The container of food you held protectively against your chest fell open onto the ground as your entire body went lax. He released you and you fell to your knees, pupils shaking and unfocused.
“This is who I was meant to find?” The anger in his voice made your synapses explode into an array of emotion.
It took everything within yourself to keep from losing your mind.
Clad in shadows was a man with red skin and black markings, his body tall and lithe. Horns, not simply two, long and curled, but multiple, far smaller than you imagined, almost uncountable to your warbling mind, sprouted from his skull. A pair of inhuman yellow eyes bored into you. His lips were pulled back in annoyance, showing off carnivorously sharp teeth. All that was missing were cloven hooves and a tail.
“I will n— not be brought to kneel by your si— silver-tonged promises, serpent,” Your voice was high pitched and choppy. “Find another to t— tempt, for I am my Mother’s child.” Once you were addressing your Goddess, you managed to become steady. “Oh, blessed be my Lady, gather my soul into your arms and free me from the shackles of sin.”
He crouched down to level your gaze with his, though he did not reach out to touch you. Eyebrows knit, he hummed, not impressed and entirely without pity, though there was some recognition there. “What happened to you for you to end up with half of a mind and sleeping here, amongst the trash.”
It wasn’t a question, but some sort of musing. You scurried away, an ungainly motion of your limbs, and grabbed the vial of blood that hung from your neck. “Fell creature! Stay back from me, I am protected by Her will and Her hand, for She will not lead me astray. I— I am… I am…” Around you, the scenery dissolved and you clutched your head. “Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned. I do not know how, I do not know why, but I have sinned. Take my soul, please, my Lady, take it, so that I may rest. Bring forth your might do that I may dole out your wrath.”
“Wrath? And what kind of wrath do you have inside of you?” You could not see him with your eyes squeezed shut, but there was a level of intrigued amusement. Almost as if he was looking into the past, seeing some weaker extant form of himself from a long time ago. He took another step closer.
Baring your teeth, your eyes snapped open as you let out a scream. You outstretched your hand and asked Her for a weapon for which to protect yourself. The silver handle flew from his belt and into your hand, a voice inside of your head telling you to ignite it. In a blaze, a red beam — like blood, like blood, like blood — extended from the hilt. You staggered to your feet and held it like a knife, unpracticed and clumsy.
He looked impressed, almost, mingling with a subtle sense of disappointment. “You are no Jedi, but you are able to use the Force.”
To kill was a graver sin than most, so you did not attack. You wanted to, oh, how you wanted to. If this was your Lady’s foe, then would She not praise you for bringing unto him punishment? Your mind felt fuzzy and you teetered to the side.
He took a step closer, drawing back the barest amount to narrowly miss your furious slash. “You wield my lightsaber as a child would.”
“I do not know what to do. I am afraid, Goddess, I am so afraid.”
“Does your goddess tell you to kill me?” You watched the interest that darkened his features grow more intense. A gasp ripped from you when you realized that he was drawing closer again, until the tip of the light blade was inches from his throat. “Or will that be your choice?”
You dropped the hilt as if it burned you, backing up until you could feel a wall against your palms. “No, no, I shall not kill. I shall not lie, I shall not sin, or else I will burn for all eternity. I— I can’t, I don’t—”
None of what you said seemed to make sense to him, his eyes studying you as he worked out what to say next. You would not allow that. With a cry, you charged at him with your arms outstretched, only for him to sidestep you. It nearly sent you sprawling onto your face, but you managed to keep your balance. To keep running.
As your legs pumped, hurried and ungainly footsteps sending your careening forward, you heard him speak one last time,
“We will be seeing each other again soon enough.”
A/N: Walk with me here, dear reader. This entire fic was inspired by this one post I saw a few weeks ago of someone saying that song ‘An Idle Brain Invites the Devil In’ reminds them of Maul. And then I was like… okay well what if I stuck a character in front of him that not only embodies that song, but also Maul at his lowest. Someone who he can project himself onto and guide in a way that is fundamentally kind of weird and insane. And then what if I made it yaoi. Are you seeing the vision? I really hope that you do.
A few things to note! Most importantly, if you are sensitive to the negative effects of religion, or a religion similar to Christianity portrayed in a harmful light, you probably should not read this. The main character of this fic is, to put it simply, incredibly brainwashed and messed up as a result of their religious upbringing, and said religion is based heavily on fanatical Christianity.
Due to this being in the POV of the main character, it may be a little difficult to figure out what exactly was happening in their past.
In short, YN was a Force Sensitive child on a backwater moon somewhere in uncharted Wild Space surrounded by either brainwashed zealots or those who wanted more power. So, it was kind of assumed that YN was “touched” by their Goddess and was raised as both a savior and a sacrificial lamb. It’ll be explained in more depth later, but that’s the gist of it. I’m taking MAJOR liberties here because this is fanfiction and I can do whatever I want forever. Like build a sandcastle out of my own ‘what ifs.’ I’m not super well versed with legends canon, so please bear with me.
I have watched Maul Shadow Lord and it was so good, but in order for this to work, I made some executive decisions. One, Rook, Icarus, and Spybot (eventually) survived because I love them. That’s it, I just wanted them to. Instead of being trained by Maul, Devon just fucked right off as soon as the ship landed which has been making Maul bend steel beams and eat rebar for, like, six months. He’s handling it very well. Anyway, he has a slot open for a new apprentice! Don’t worry, Devon will be back. For now, though, Maul is settling for this Fucking Guy That He Found In The Trash.
Regarding a few of the darker tags on Ao3, particularly past sexual abuse and child abuse, I’m still on the fence about including these. Due to even considering the possibility of them being touched upon, I decided to tag them just in case my fingers get a mind of their own. Before each chapter, I will have the trigger warnings featured in that chapter written at the top! I’m usually pretty thorough.
Also the major character death tag on Ao3. I want to be upfront, but I don’t think this fic will have a particularly happy ending. I may change my mind as I write it, but as of right now, the day of publishing the first chapter, it’s not looking so good. There will be ups and downs! Highs and lows! But more than likely, it will end on a low.
Lastly, for all of my readers, YN in this fic will be a trans man, they’re just not there yet. They may not be for a while. Be aware that they will use she/her at first but will end the fic using he/him and undergoing Space HRT.
Note: Reader is based on a lot of characters from a bunch of media, including: Carrie White, Crona Gorgon, Lucy Elfen Lied, and D’arce Fear and Hunger.
That’s really it, though! If you have any questions, you can comment them or send me an ask!!
Tag List: Ask to be added <3
