#is spicy

“You did not come back with the rest. I assumed you died.” The princess sat at her vanity, looking to her nails, admiring their jagged and chewed edges. She would look up on occasion, to the dusty mirror, to see if the blue arches beneath her eyes were yet gone. When she saw him, she couldn’t bare to keep looking. 

“And you never came looking for me? I’m disheartened.”

She didn’t say that, and she had looked for him. The princess nearly sprinted to the stream outside the palace gates, past the first village, and between it and the next. Weaving between guards had never been easier.

“I waited,” she said, still not looking to her reflection- to his, “for days. My brothers came to find me. At least, Older Brother did, and we are both lucky he hadn’t shown up sooner.”

Older Brother knew of the two’s scandal. Had he ‘found’ her the day she left, the day after Lover was supposed to return, the king and queen would have known their daughter was sneaking off to a lover. Worse than that, Lover’s general would have noticed his absence and figured he, too, had snuck off for a mischievous rendezvous somewhere far off from base.

He laughed, and not only did she catch a glimpse of his reflection, but she swiveled in her chair. “You are upset with me.” How could he be in disbelief at her?

“I waited,” she repeated. “And now you come into my bedroom wearing that stupid smirk- as if I weren’t worried for your life for days on end!” He was fine. Her knight in shining armor was late, and not only was he late, but he was unscathed.

“You think I was running off with someone.” His chest bounced as he laughed again. “Who would I run off with besides you, princess? One of your brothers?”

She smiled at that. She wouldn’t have said it outwardly, but he was right. Yet then again- “What else were you doing?”

$$$

“Is it impossible to believe that I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you?”

Was that any excuse? Where had he been? He was untouched! No scars or scabs. No scratches or rope burns to reveal that he was captured. Nothing was wrong with him. He should have been at the stream like they agreed.

But as he began walking forward and away from her door, as his lips fell from a smile into something more serious- no, more sensual- the princess felt her shoulders rising. Her cheeks were flushing. She spun around, eyes avoiding the mirror at her vanity.

“If I would have met you by that stream,” he said to her, and he was directly behind her, scraping what hair was against her neck, and pulling it to one side. Before she knew it, his lips were brushing her ear and a shiver darted down her spine. She exhaled, quietly, but not so hushed that her lover didn’t hear. He gave a scornful laugh. 

“If I would have met you by the stream,” he repeated, his breath sending yet another shiver, “the throne would have another heir.”

“I do not think,” the princess returned, breathless, though nothing had yet happened, “that I would have minded.”

“No, but lucky for you, I care about your reputation.” His lips were leaving wet spots down the column of her neck, and she subconsciously tilted her head to the side, allowing him easier access.

Sneaking a peak at the mirror in front of them, her hands twitched in her laps. She needed to do something with them- anything. She settled for clenching her nightgown into tight fists.

“I leave tomorrow. Will you give me a proper goodbye?”

Already? But he had just gotten back.

His hand was reaching her chin, tugging it back towards him. She hummed, almost carried away by the simple touch. “How could we when you are leaving again?” Her voice almost escaped as a whine. Desperate.

No, not now. “I would distract you.” The princess attempted to pull her chin free, but the soldier only grasped it tighter. He would have his kiss.

“You think you have that power over me?” His eyes shone with intent as he rubbed one thumb across the space between her cheek and chin. When he glanced to her lips, he said, “Because you do.”

Something about his tone struck a fire in her core, and she felt herself smirking, her head upheld in his hand. Carefully, she rotated in her chair so that her soldier’s grip didn’t slip; she liked his hand there, liked the control which slipped to it instead of her crown. With her chest against the back of the chair, she reached behind his head and pulled it down.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, pulling him into a delicate kiss.

“Goodbye,” she said again, pulling him into another.

“Come back,” she said in-between.

With each kiss, she prolonged pulling away, enraptured by the feel of his lips, of his tongue. She would kiss him until the end of their days, into a grave marked for two.

In another moment, her gown was sliding across her stomach and chest, lifting, along with her arms.

As the light from outside dimmed, she suggested a candle be lit, but her soldier only hushed her. “It will be better like this,” he promised.

And so it was.

In the dark, as everyone slept, the soldier, too, said his goodbyes- one kiss after another. One lower, and lower- until he stopped.

The princess sat up ever so slightly, looking down at her soldier, prone at the end of the bed. “Why did you-” until his head ducked down, and she had no words left. Not even another goodbye.

Another thing is that he mumbles in his sleep, talking to various people. Someone named Ahnahkin needs to clean his room. Someone named Qwin needs to go away. Various others are complained at or dismayed over. This is the first glimpse, however removed, that Maul has heard or seen of the outside world in years. With the gungan fleeing from him on site -as is right and proper- he has simply not had opportunity.

The dragonfish sith takes note of every name and mumbled secret. He puts together stories, hungry for mental stimulation.

The third thing he learns while watching Kenobi is that he can stay unconscious for a very long time. A. Very. Long. Time. Maul waits, unwilling to sleep while exposed, for what feels like twice the time he would normally rest himself. Still the jedi sleeps.

His bruising has faded away over the course of this hibernation, colorshifting until the skin is cream toned again, and the scrapes and abrasions are nothing but faint lines. On one hand, he is disappointed to see the markings fade. On the other, a blank canvas invites new paint…

Eventually, Maul grows too bored to tolerate. Even with a selection of fresh calamari to nibble on. He shakes the other man, calling him back from his endless rest, “Kenobi. Awaken.”

The jedi groans, burrowing closer.

“Jediiii,” Maul hisses, “Wake. Up.”

Kenobi rolls away, batting at the hands which shake him, wiggling to the magma rock instead.

Squinting, Maul pins exactly one hair from his head between two claws, and yanks.

The other man makes a sad noise, ducking his head further under the rock.

He pinches another hair, and yanks-

Kenobi comes half awake with an angry noise, elbowing him, then burrowing into his own arms.

Maul grins, entertained, and gets ahold of a single beard hair, and yanks-

The jedi punches him in the side of the head, making his ear fin sting something fierce.

“RrrraaaaahH!” Maul shrieks, somewhere between rage and glee, and grabs the other man by his tunics to rattle him about.

Finally, Kenobi truly wakes, muzzily batting him off and rolling away with a groan. “Ye gods, you're a monster, and it has very little to do with your career choices.”

Maul preens. “You brought it on yourself, jedi scum. You would not wake.”

“Have you considered that, perhaps, that was because I needed more sleep?” the man snaps in a cranky rasp, kicking him.

Maul wacks him with his tail fin.

Kenobi kicks him again, harder.

It quickly escalates. The jedi yanks on his horns, making Maul gasp as a strange zing runs down his spine. He gut punches Kenobi for the trouble. Maul snaps his many sharp teeth at an offending arm, and tears a hole in his robes that makes the man cry out in dismay.

The dragonfish sith is tossed across the room with the force, and immediately shows the jedi how terrible of an idea that was by springing back at him like a compressed coil.

Both of them are bleeding a bit by the time Maul is satisfied. Not that Kenobi seemed settled, but it is hard to effectively complain with hundreds of pounds of amphibious sith on top of you.

Maul pins the jedi's shoulders as he leans over him. “We are done now.”

“Go kriff yourself, Maul,” the other man says dryly, flat on his back and trapped under the weight. “I haven't done anything, I've been nothing but compliant! Why are you beating me?”

The dragonfish sith grins, all teeth. The jedi may act disdainful, but his body shows interest in the fight. His pulse is fast, he's supressing a grin, he feels excited in the force, and his blood isn't the only thing that's up.

Good. Maul likes to fight. “You would not wake up, and, you kicked me.”

“I was tired and you woke me up by pulling out my hair.” Kenobi says defensively.

“I was bored. You slept for half a day, at least,” Maul returns, “Such weakness.”

Kenobi sighs heavily, scrubbing hands over his face. “Yes yes, weak as a babe.”

The dragonfish sith giggles like water tossed on a campfire, and licks the trail of blood running from the jedi's split lip where it drips down into his beard. He mouths at the bloodied chin, stealing away all the iron taste. Kenobi makes a choking noise, eyes going wide as he freezes in place.

Maul’s grin only grows, broad and sharp and cunning.

“Must you… do that?” the man complains, cheeks turning red and barely managing a scowl as he looks at the ceiling over Maul's shoulder.

“Yesss,” the sith affirms with a spiteful laugh, writhing his tail over the legs pinned beneath him. He moves just so, and Kenobi’s back arches up off the ground, head tilting back as he moans.

Maul's brain empties itself as he sees throat bared to him.

Pale.

Thin skin.

A pulse, a fraction away from the surface, that would font if nicked in the slightest..

His hindbrain gibbers mixed signals at him like a badly tuned radio. The dragonfish in him says ‘food’, the zabrak says ‘submission’ and ‘trust’, the sith lord and trained assassin says ‘opportunity’... and the man that is all of those things and more just stares at that enticing expanse of throat.

He makes a little noise when it goes away.

No no… he… what was that? He…

Maul roils over top of Kenobi again, hoping to elicit that same…

The jedi paws at him, blinking rapidly. He looks confused with himself. "I, ah..."

“Again!” Maul demands.

“Mngh?” the man asks, limp underneath him.

“Your throat! Show me-

Kenobi makes more choking noises, scrambling out from under him in a flail of limbs and putting his back to a wall.

The jedi swallows, but it is so dry his throat clicks loud enough to hear “...force, I am so thirsty. Very thirsty! And hungry. I'm really wasting away here. Aren't you going to feed me? I'm probably losing kidney function as we speak.”

Maul makes a face, slowly rising up and looking towards the water, considering. “You cannot drink salt water…?”

“... no,” the jedi confirms. “That will kill me in hours.”

“Mnngnngn,” the sith replies. Yes... yes he knew that. “There are… fruits I can bring?”

Kenobi perks up, “Fruit sounds wonderful.”

“Mnnn,” he decides, “Fruit it is. First, we must move you to a more secure location. If one gorogoro found you here, more could come.”

The jedi makes a face himself, glances over at the water, then rotates his neck to look around the walls. “Move… how? I don't see any other caves.”

Maul sloughs over toward the water, pulling on the jedi's arm, “Through the tunnels. Come.”

Kenobi scoots away. “Or, consider, we could… not do that.”

A growl of annoyance rolls out of him. “Kenobi.”

Blue eyes flash at him, challenging. “The water is cold. I'm not well. My robes are covered in dried octopus viscera and crunch with salt, and there's no fresh water to bathe in. I don't want to be wet again on top of all that.”

Maul sneers at him, but pulls back, fists clenching and unclenching as he tries to think through what of that was whining pathetic jedi and which parts could actually kill him.

Dehydration… deadly fast.

Cold… deadly fast.

Poor hygiene… deadly eventually.

Maul hisses in annoyance, he did not like those results.

“I will… mnnnh… I will get a new heat stone, first. I will put fruit there. Hnnn… I will make it warm enough that you do not need clothes.”

“What, no,” the man says.

The sith nods. Yes, this will work. Not cold, not unclean, not hungry, and only wet briefly.

“Maul,” Kenobi says, pained, “You're going to the surface for fruit, yes? Please, just, bring me a container of fresh water? Please do not make me walk around naked. Leave me some dignity.”

The sith thunks his fist on his forehead a few times, then discards all of the difficult thoughts in favor of action. “I will consider it, jedi. For now, I will make the safer room… better.”

“Wait!” the other man calls.

“Mnh?” He turns.

Kenobi licks his cracked lips, “What if another octopus comes while you're gone? Leave me a way to defend myself.”

Maul hisses again, leaning forward, “You think I would give you a weapon? You would use it against me!”

“Just! Just think about it,” the jedi pleads. “If one comes, I can only dodge it. One slip up, and I'll be dead on the ground and half eaten before you ever get back.”

The sith shrieks his denial at that result. “No!”

Kenobi approaches him by the water's edge, reaching out to touch fingertips to Maul's left wrist. “I solemnly swear, on the force, if you give me my lightsaber to defend myself, when you return I will relinquish it without complaint or hesitation. Please. That… that pain. I don't want to die that way.”

Maul vibrates in place with displeasure. The jedi had a point. The jedi was certainly lying. What was the worst risk? Which result was less good?

…

… he would not lose his revenge to a mollusk.

“Fine,” he snaps, “stay here.”

The sith takes to the water with no small amount of aggravation. Down and through the warren of caves, he goes quickly to the distant nook where he had buried the blade and rebreather. Quick as he can, Maul returns to the unsecure prison cave.

He emerges just enough to check that a gorogoro has not appeared in the interim minutes. Seeing nothing but a pacing Kenobi, he rises up enough to catch the man's attention, and then tosses the hilt at him before quickly diving again before he can attack.

They can fight again, later, after there is food and water and warmth waiting for his fragile prisoner. A place for the jedi to recover after he is beaten for his lies.

The dragonfish sith gathers another magma ball, rolling it up and carrying it back in the force. The new cave is a little smaller, and does not have the under-floor water ways that the original one did -which Maul had intended to use to harass the jedi- but, it is much more defensible. Two ways in and out, plenty of oxygen and bioluminescent plants, various boulders, and a relatively flat floor. Also, none of it is splattered in blue blood.

He takes a brief moment to check on the jedi, who is curled up by his heat source, before taking off for the surface. It is not a short trip to the islands with the fruit trees, so he plans to take many.

The sith also steals the laundry off the line of a fishing boat, and uses a sheet to bundle all the things together, but then he has to stop scavenging and descend. It is too bright up here, and the air feels wrong in his lungs. Too thin.

Maul dives for the depths again, eyes scanning the water for escaped jedi, or, conspicuous corpses floating upward. To his surprise, pleasure, and suspicion Kenobi is still in the cave where Maul had left him. He makes a lap to drop off his finds, and returns for their fight.

“Kenobi~” the sith sings, “I am back. Will you kneel before me and hand over your saber?”

The jedi master turns towards him, then looks down at his unlit blade.

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