#maulsspeak

TW: Major character death, grief, suicidal thoughts Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Enemies and Lovers, Slowburn, Possessive behavior, Hate that turns into obsession Rating: SFW Amount of words: 1,7k+ Note from the author: Sorry for taking so long to post this chapter. I was supposed to post it a week later after I posted 2 chapter, but I didn't like what I have written. So I rewrote it. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. By the way, you will be able to find this fic on ao3 too. Tagging @joyfulllittlething just in case.

Orange light filtered through windows as Maul descended down the corridor. His body felt heavy, mind foggy. This meeting should have ended much much earlier. At first there was a projector that kept on buzzing, barely any words could reach his ears. Then there was this crime lord that was way too adamant on getting his part of the deal. If it wasn’t for Maul pressuring him, the bargain would have probably gone on till evening. And if it wasn’t enough, one of the credit shipments blew up. However, it wasn’t the only thing that made an aggravation flicker. A memory shifted his focus from the objective: your body so close to his, your voice defiant, those eyes wide with fear that hardened. You refused to bend, stubbornly staying in his mind no matter how many times you were being axed.

In spite of his annoyance, his interest was rising. Your first meeting was being regurgitated again and again. He couldn’t help but relate to your desire for retribution. What made questions arise though was the object of your vengeance. You had mentioned that he, whoever this person was, possessed way too much power in comparison to you. This remark made Maul wonder who your enemy could possibly be. He took in consideration that your measurements for power could differ from his. Your adversary could be a mere inconvenience on his path. You being discreet in your description of your foe, didn’t make his job any easier. So he had to make the best of what he had. 

His suspicions could be compared to a swarm of centipedes. Sounds of their moving appendages were becoming incessant. Their scattering creeped up on him out of nowhere and only quieted down when he kept himself busy.

Spacious quarters opened up. He sat down on the desk occupying himself with numerous tasks, each one more complicated than the other. Unfortunately, it didn’t help much with deafening the crawling. His mind wondered, more theories spinning. So far he had a vague picture: it was a male, he possessed influence and could get you killed in case your got discovered and, most importantly, you feared him. A couple of people could fit that description. He turned, his eyes setting on the mirror.

This is nonsense. He told himself. Idea of him being your opponent sounded ridiculous. However, there was an ounce of reasoning there. Maul wasn’t oblivious to the authority he held, nor people’s reaction to his presence. He was aware of grudges being held against him and him not being considering a rightful superior in the eyes of some. But once again he found himself hitting the same wall – lack of evidence.

As more time passed by, the more his focus shifted, this mindless wondering distracting him from much important duties. His teeth ground. He pushed forward, but every now and then he caught himself slipping back. Less and less progress was shown. By the time the sun set, he had only completed three tasks. You could get this over with much faster, Maul scolded himself, you are wasting your time. Those reprimands made him only more dissatisfied.

His hand reached for the drawer, fetching one of the gadgets. His fingers brushed against smooth curved surface. When he looked down, the same flower was presented. Shut. But it was too late. Image of that lily was now engraved in his mind, what tied to it remained. He carried on with his work, but his eyes occasionally ran to the same spot.

“Withdraw from my mind.” – Zabrak muttered.

You disobeyed.

That foolish servant. Last word was grumbled under Maul’s breath. His fists clenched. He leaned against his chair, sighing while rubbing in between his eyes. When they opened, they once again fell on the drawer. That was the last straw. His finger already pushed the button. A request got voiced. His foot tapped faster the more he anticipated.

A hiss, sound of footsteps echoed.

Finally.

He kept sitting at his table, pretending to be occupied. But he didn’t let you out from his vicinity. You remained quiet, greeted him with a nod. Your frame was tense.

“I’ve been meaning to apologize.” - You spoke. – “It’s about the flower.”

Zabrak turned.

“I didn’t mean to look into your drawer. I just hit the corner and it opened on its own.” – You explained. Your voice was quiet.

No reply. Not even a raise of an eyebrow.

“I didn’t tell anybody about it.” - You commented.

No answer. But his shoulders lowered slightly, strain leaving his muscles. He knew that in such place rumors got carried like fire by wind and was grateful that the whole palace wasn’t aware of what he kept in his desk.

“I appreciate that you kept it between us. However, it is not why I summoned you.” - Maul stated drily. - “I’ve been meaning to discuss an order you’ve been assigned with.”

You stopped wiping for a moment.

“I’m not going to go into details, but it’s in progress.” - You replied, movements renewed. You averted your gaze.

Your reaction wasn’t left unattended. He kept a watch on you, eyes stopping on your left hand.

“Your ring.”

 “It’s from my husband.” Your voice lowered.

“Is it fair for me to ask who he is?” - Maul pried.

“He’s a soldier. I mean, he was.” – You answered quietly. “He died on a mission.”

He saw your eyebrows tenting, a barely audible sigh attracted his attention. A twinge struck his heart, same feeling snaking back.

“My sincere condolences to you.” - Your conversation partner commiserated, pausing before making another statement. - “Your spouse has met his demise like a true warrior.”

Your hands tightened around the cloth, knuckles white. Your jaw clenched, your eyebrows furrowed. Closer inspection made him realize that there was something much deeper going on, more intense. Maul was no stranger to that intensity. His mouth stayed shut, a metal note of your reaction kept in register.

You carried on, pacing through the room. Your motions became swifter, rougher. Your face was flushed. Ire radiated off of you in waves, getting more intense with each moment.

“You have mentioned that your opponent is a powerful figure.” - Maul stated as his eyes set on thin line of your lips.

“He has many allies.”

“Are they loyal?” - He questioned.

“Quiet amount of them is, but not all of them.” - You mentioned. Your voice was cracking with barely contained frustration, but you were keeping it at bay for now.

“How many of them are at your disposal?” - Maul interrogated.

“Enough for me to reach my goal.” - You replied, your voice sharp.

“Circling back to your enemy.” - He carried on calmly. - “Is there anything of importance you could share about him?”

You froze in your tracks. Aroma permeated the air, mingling with the smoky scent of resentment. He breathed it in, taste of it so familiar - fear.

“He has eyes everywhere.” – You carried on, but suddenly went quiet.

You continued, attempting to make it look like as if nothing happened. But your interlocutor didn’t get swayed easily by your acting.

“Are you afraid that they could potentially be set on you?” - He probed.

You looked over your shoulder. Your body became rigid. A faint scent now turned into a tang, overriding smoldering. Quiet fell between you two, only broken by your faint shallow breathing. He didn’t break the silence, letting tension speak for itself. The portrait was becoming clear and it made the fire seethe underneath.

“I make sure to stay unnoticed.” – You answered, turning your eyes away.

“Really?” - He challenged. - “Are you certain that your so called plan will fall in accordance?”

“It must. There is no other way.” – You replied with certainty, yet he could feel your increasing heartbeat.

He saw you schooling your features. But he wouldn’t get fooled. Your body betrayed you, your composed façade showed cracks. Maul stared right through those cracks. You won’t hide from me, he thought. He didn’t break contact, his eyes piercing right through you. He assessed you, testing how long you could keep up the illusion, how long you could withstand the pressure. Go on, flee, he thought, his eyes squinting. He waited for averted gaze or a comment or retreat. None of that was shown. You stared back, even though your heart thumped in your chest, even though your fingers held onto windowsill.

“Good. There is no room for doubt, for it only leads to failure.” Your Lord stated. “And you can not afford failure.”

“Right.”

“I suppose I could dismiss you, for now.” He said. “You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

You hustled towards the doors. Soon they shut, yet he kept his senses sharp. Your image was still in his mind’s eye, his ears trained. He heard a faint exhale from the other side. Then footsteps faded.

He sat in silence for a moment. Your last comment was painting an unsavoury profile, a profile well-known to him. Your tiptoeing around questions, your emotions, body language - they all added fuel to the rising flame. Try and play those games with me. I dare you. He though, his eyes set on the door. Whatever scheme you are composing it won’t succeed, I will make sure of that.

everyone in the vicinity: