Archive of Our Own ^beta

The ground is cold beneath his metal feet. He can feel it even through the lifeless stillness of his cybernetic legs, even without the precious gift of flesh and blood and veins. The foreign sensation creeps up his legs, until it is cut short at his midsection, never reaching above his waist, never touching something other than the dead part of him. The nonexistent one. For Darth Maul is not afraid. He is not intimidated. 

The air feels heavy on his lungs, the reddish atmosphere and the heavy mist surrounding him, making him feel like a specimen in a tightly sealed jar. Observed by hungry and unsated eyes from all directions, scrutinized for the sake of progress. A small, miserable creature curled up naked, under the orbs of the whole galaxy. 

The red scenery drenched in blood-red light brings him back memories from his early childhood. The few he has left, for his mind has been preoccupied with different matters for far too long. That's why he came back here. That's why he chose to seek guidance, no, to appeal to the great divinity of his ancestors. To come as merely a lost soul, searching, yearning for release. Release of pent up anger, frustration, want… 

For that he knows where he must go, although he is not sure what he is going to encounter. He is only sure that he walks upon these, now foreign, lands stripped of pride, arrogance, egotism. He is merely a lost soul. Ready to be molded and follow the word of the divine. He will call for the eternal goddess, he will invoke the sacred spirit with the ethereal, imposing form and he will cry for mercy, absolution if he must and he can only hope it can help him. Sate him. 

For the eyes of the Daughter and the touch of her silk, I shall renounce every power my mortal vessel holds and open my body and soul to her empyrean command. 

The Dark Side of the Force has an immensely strong presence on Dathomir, which allows for the nurturing of such thoughts. Thoughts of desire and passion which are what he primarily seeks. 

His cloak covers his half naked body from view. His only possessions: his wooden cane which he holds in his hand. His lightsaber miles away from him. Maul looks around as he nears his final destination. It's almost like the dampness and the mist draw him in. Lure him and cloud his mind, help him reach a state far beyond his consciousness. 

He can see it in the distance. The open space between the hostile cracks and crevices, the red, appalling rocks that can cut you with a single touch. The unwelcoming landscape. 

His footing slows down as he reaches the spot. There it is. The sacrificial altar. The one on which many souls have been freed from their bodily prison, free to roam unrestrained by the hindrances of the flesh. The altar which has been drenched in enemy blood more than a few times, the one that has heard the lament of crying mothers and daughters, the eternal sorrow of a genocide, the Nightsisters. The atmosphere doesn't change color, the mist doesn't subsidize, but he can see clearly. Although the eerie heat and lack of distinguishable sounds makes everything ten times more meaningful, preparing him for his incantation. 

There are two steps he must ascend before he reaches the altar. His footing is stable and firm. Maul knows what he is here to do and he will complete it. One step after the other, right leg in front of the left. His cane hits the ancient stone and clacks, echoing in the vastness of the valley. He takes a long, deep breath. The Zabrak has ascended it. 

Slowly, he crouches down and leaves the cane on the ground, meticulously calculating each movement. He closes his eyes, standing in front of the altar bed. His right hand comes to the pin that holds his cloak together at his throat. And soon enough the pin hits the ground, metal colliding with stone. The heavy, black fabric slides off his shoulders and rubs on his skin until it meets the metal pin on the ground. He is revealed. His toned muscles finally coming to the light. A sudden cold breeze hits his back, but immediately disappears, giving its place to the heat of the planet. His eyes open. Irises dilated. Gently, his arms begin to rise to his sides, in a powerful stance, at the level of his shoulders. They stop. His chest rises.And the ritual begins. 

"I call the ancient spirit of the Mother, whose garden brought us all to be, breathing life and soul into the arid seeds of flesh in the palm of her hand!"

His voice echoes in the distance. 

"I call the All-Mother, protector and highest ruler of this land, in times of need, open to her bidding, as clay to be molded, ready for her word for I seek her divine intervention!"

The air suddenly gets colder. A sign. Maul looks around, there is nothing there, yet.

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree…" 

He drops down to his knees slowly. Tingles creep up his back and make him shiver. It's working. 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree…" 

He calls for the ultimate being, but he doesn't know what will come to him. Who. Maybe a Mother, maybe a Daughter, maybe a mythical being he must slay. Yet he chants the ancient language, a servant to its glory, in hopes of his prayers being answered. 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree…" 

Clouds hide the source of light in the sky, everything turns dimmer. Darker. And the incantation perseveres. 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree…" 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree." 

With the corner of his eye he dares to look upon the altar. He dares to take a glimpse of phenomena that he doesn't fully understand, but this daring act does not prove futile, for something is indeed brewing. Mist and moisture gathers upon the cracked stone, clumping together, obscuring the view to the core. Maul cannot distinguish anything, so he continues. The light has vanished completely now. And there is wind which hits his back and his arms which are still open wide, palms facing the sky. His voice gets louder. Stronger. He feels more powerful in his diminished state. 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree!" 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree!" 

The wind subsides and there is a deafening, sudden lightning that crashes right next to his head, on the cold altar stone. He doesn't flinch. 

I COME TO THEE, FRUIT OF MY MOTHER'S LOIN, SOUL TO BE MENDED, SOUL TO BE HEARD.

"Daynas, daynas, I'shuree jenor'kosta, hiso et shuree…"

His eyes close. It is here. 

"Thank you spi-"

WHO DARES AWAKE THE SOULS OF EONS PAST, THIS NIGHT?

All of a sudden, Maul feels very aware of his surroundings. In the blink of an eye, his calling stops and he feels the divine presence of a holy being looking down on him from the top of the altar. His head is downcast, his heart bursting. Eyes closed. 

"Open your eyes and rise… nightbrother."

An imposing voice pierces his ears and trembles his soul. 

He takes in a deep breath, smelling the environment that encompasses him. His arms lower themselves to his torso, almost glued to his bare skin. He positions his right and unforgiving leg in the stone. He rises. Irises obscured. Another deep breath. His chest fills with the heavy air. Lungs filling up with the illusion of life, ribs expanding, bones shown through his thin, red skin. His eyelids flutter slowly. 

He opens his eyes. 

In front of him stands the most divine presence he has ever had the privilege of meeting. Of seeing. Breathing the same air. Awe strikes him at once and he feels the urgent need to kneel in front of the specter. 

"RISE!" 

He gets startled by the sudden and loud voice and he stands up straight. His eyes staying downcast, now not daring to look upon the ancestral spirit. Yet, despite the harshness of the voice, there is something else hidden in that merciful tone. A hint of comfort, a call of the soul. 

"Dou fej sharee tlesu meni el'yol tira? Shu fej sharee et hiso?"

It is now that Maul is finally able to distinguish the nature of the voice. The sound is now sweet. Welcoming. However, in a peculiar way, stern. Imposing. Maul is not sure what to answer to the spirit's question. He knows why he is here… but he feels as if he needs to address the presence in front of him some more before he finally phrases his request. 

"Daynas… I have come here to seek help, spirit. But, pray tell, for I am blind in my sightedness, who or what are you…" Maul's voice is low. Careful. His eyes are still looking down.

"Look at me." the voice spoke up. This time it was… 

Sweet?

"Shar meni'oen… Tell me, lost soul." with that, Maul decides it was best to obey. So he raises his eyes. Little by little, his gaze falls upon the altar. And nothing prepares him for what he sees standing in front of him. 

"Holy Mother…" he whispers. 

The beauty in front of him is like nothing he has ever seen before. A woman, ethereal in her form, with gentle eyes and face. Maul takes a step back in awe. His eyes are wide and his pupils almost fully black. It's like the divinity knew what he longed to see. What he unconsciously wanted to encounter. She is made out of white light. Illuminating everything around them. Her skin is glowing. Her gaze is shining, her hair… very long and elegant, falling to the sides of her hips and continuing to float in the atmosphere, same strands of hair caught by the wind. Framing her face. 

"I'shuree jenor'kosta…"

Now Maul understands. The floating spirit, which springs nothing but desire into his heart, does not have only one form. That is why only as soon as he laid eyes on it he got entranced by its voice. It took shape the moment he saw it. That god-like creature, represents Want, Lust, Desire. And as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it chose to present itself in this form. 

Oh, spirit of eons past, what other faces may you have up your sleeve. 

It is nor woman, nor man in its true form. It is something much greater, surpassing the need of identity. A God. Goddess. 

It knows what Maul wants. And it manifested as it deemed it needed. And it worked. Maul can't take the eyes off of it. 

HER

A voice ringed in his ear. He gathers the courage to look up at her. In her eyes. He hears the voice again. Inside his mind, yet the mouth of the woman does not move as she pierces him with her stare. 

YOU CHOSE THIS PRESENT FORM, RESPECT IT. 

Maul has taken a few steps back. A hand is extended forward. He looks at it as if it's the first time he sees one. 

"Hiso et shuree… Come to me…" her voice is like honey to his ears. His mouth is agape. The woman floats backwards as Maul takes tentative steps toward the alter to return to his previous position. 

"S-Sho fej s-sharee?! Who are you, divine beauty?" he stands still as he addresses her. 

"You can call me the Daughter. Na yot meni res'yide het dou jenor shuree keyn. That is all you need to know…"

Daughter… 

"Who are you, stranger?" the Daughter addresses him. 

"I'shuree tozu meni Maul."

Maul… 

"My name is Maul, Daughter."

He watches as she smiles warmly. She is no longer hostile at all. He doesn't feel the previous fear he felt in her presence. Only an unstoppable warmth in his body. A warmth he can't sate. 

"Why are you here, Maul? What do you seek from the Ancestral Spirits? How can I help you…"

He gulps. 

"I…" his voice rests low but confident and finally, after stalling, he growls out his wish. Voice deep. 

"I want to feel."

The Daughter raises her eyebrow. 

"Devine Daughter, child of the Holy Mother, the one who birthed us all, the one who cried life into the empty desert of our soul… I want to feel again." with that confession Maul looks to the ground. 

"Eyes up." now the voice becomes stern again for only a second. Turning back to sweet and silky as soon as Maul complies. 

"In what way do you want to feel again… Maul, lost brother?" The spirit leans towards him, it's face inches apart from his. Maul can't control his breathing. He feels her. 

So close… 

I can smell her flowery scent. 

The woman leans in to whisper in his ear. Her hair floats around his face. Maul can't move. He doesn't want to move. His muscles are tense yet he is in paradise. Her soft voice finally graces him as his chest rises and falls quickly. He feels the warmth of her whisper on his bare skin. 

"In what way…" the last words is dragged out of her mouth and it sends shivers down his spine as she pulls away again. 

"I'shuree p-pelir'e s-sharee…" Maul admits it. He can't understand it, but he knows he does. It's a foreign feeling. "I d-desire you, Daughter…" 

The spirit smiles brightly and takes a step towards him. Maul can really see her now. 

She is… 

"I know…" she says as she places one palm on his left cheek. Maul's breath is caught at his check. His eyes snap closed with the first contact. "Otherwise I wouldn't have come to fulfill your desires… This is my duty, after all…" she continues whispering. 

"D-Daughter-"

"Maul, my dear, look at me…" her voice is sorrowful now. "Don't you want to touch me?" She wonders. 

Maul fixes his eyes on her again. What comes out of her beautiful mouth makes him react in ways it is physically impossible. He feels it… yet it isn't there… 

Her eyebrows scrunch and then she puts on the "pure and innocent" face again. She comes closer. Her chest touches his right shoulder. Maul feels a twitch. 

"Don't you want me to touch you? To run my fingers up your skin…"

His head falls back.

"To grant you… release?"

"To make you feel my mouth on your red skin?"

"For you to gasp…"

"To wrap my fingers around you…"

"To feel my tongue on every inch of your body?"

"To make you… come?"

That was it for Maul. He can't take it anymore. He doesn't care to learn more of what she is, what she does, what he has to do to earn it. He needs this. Her touch. Her hands. 

"P-Please…"

"Say it."

His eyebrows scrunch in despair. 

"I want to hear the words coming out of your lips…"

He doesn't need to be persuaded more. He is here for this purpose. 

"I want to experience what was rightfully mine, yet stripped away from me. What was cut in a flash of a second by a pathetic "hero" of a wasted Order. I desire to sense the carnal desire of the flesh. The simple yet captivating feel of lust and passion. The edge, the top of the mountain. The high. The peak…"

"Shhh…" she silences him with one of her delicate fingers over his mouth. 

He is ready to obey her every word, if it means getting what he so desperately yearns for. The voice becomes softer now. More humane. More like sweet honey. Decadent and provoking. 

"Lie on the altar, child of the Gods." 

A green mist falls upon the cold stone and slowly wraps around Maul, guiding him, pushing him onto the sacrificial stone. The Daughter turns her back for a while as she waits for the Zabrak to make the first move. He hesitates no longer. With eager eyes he ascends the stone and lies on his back. 

A ritual. 

A sacrifice of the soul. 

"Yeeeeeeeeees…" the snake-sounding word fills his ear and makes his heart skip a beat. He is ready. He can't wait any longer. He will burst. So many years… So many years of denial and solitude. Years of no release, pent up anger and frustration. Want. Helplessness. 

And the time has finally come. 

To release him from his prison. 

"Maul…" the divine Daughter now turns to look at him. Her body has taken an even more cloud-like form. Like smoke with a greener tint. But she is still beautiful. Majestic in his eyes. He gulps. 

"Daughter…" he growls, deeply, a guttural moan, of a kind. 

"Do you accept the gift of the Gods of which you called?"

"Yes! Yes I do!" he shouts menacingly. 

"Impatience…"

The Daughter is suddenly by his ear, whispering. He feels her presence by him and he shivers. 

"Is this how you address a God?"

"Daughter-"

"Silence!"

The Daughter comes at the side of the altar and looks down on him. She grants him a warm smile and she places her hands in the stone. Maul would have never expected what happened next. Without even Maul realizing it, the Daughter climbs the stone and straddles him. His hips now unable to move, grind on her to no avail. Her legs are on either side of his waist and her palms rest on his naked chest. 

"D-Daughter…" he breathes out a heavy moan. 

"Mmmm…"

She leans in and she traces a pattern with her pointer finger on his cheek, her free hand roaming on his body, massaging his shoulder. She stares deep into his soul. 

"Maul…"

She gets closer to his face, while being on top of him. And at last… she licks up a protruding vein on the side of his neck. 

Maul growls as his eyes roll back and the muscles on his hands tense. It is hard to believe that… he feels her. Her tongue, wet and hot on his skin. 

She is made out of smoke, but… 

"Didn't you want the grace of the Lords, Maul?" she pulls back and now her hand is on his abdomen. 

"Y-Yes…" his voice breaks as he tries to conjure up every ounce of strength he has to form a proper sentence. 

"Then go."

She gets off of him suddenly, and Maul is ready to whine. She stands next to the altar as he turns his head with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing?" he wonders. 

"Touch yourself." her tone is bold. Daring even. Maul's eyes darken. His gaze gets colder. 

"You know I can't." he bites back with resentment. But she isn't scared of his little tricks. Now it's time for her to get colder. 

"Touch. Yourself." she orders him. He rolls his eyes. 

"How?!"

"Look me in the eyes and direct your hand to your loin. How you've done so many times before. How you did before the accident."

Maul is not sure what to respond. His heart is beating fast. He pierces her with his eyes, but follows her command. His hand travels down… He fills the tingle on his skin as it passes his stomach… abdominal muscles… all while getting consumed by her eyes. He stops just before the metal begins. He dares not continue. 

"I can't. I don't have anything to grab onto." he averts his gaze for a moment but a hand forces him to look back into the abyss of her orbs. The grip is soft. 

"Are you sure about that?"

With a light breeze, her own hand wraps around his tightly. He feels goosebumps forming on his skin. Her hand guides him to descend a bit further over the metal of his hips and… 

Maul opens his eyes wide. 

"W-Wha-..."

The Daughter smiles. 

He jerks up, his hand prompted up against the stone, his back off of it to look down. He loses his breath. She retrieves her hand from his. 

In front of him, he witnesses his hand wrapped around… 

He can't believe his eyes. 

He turns to her with pleading eyes, a bit more and he would spill a tear. Of course, he doesn't show it. 

"H-How!? What did you do?!"

He stares at the newly formed member again. Back and forth. 

It looks so… 

It is exactly like… 

He squeezes it. And his head falls back in the blink of an eye. 

"I-I…" he trembles. His whole body trembles, as does his voice. 

"Isn't that what you wanted?" the Daughter asks. Maul's fingers run up and down the tip and his arm fails him and his back falls onto the stone once more. Eyes closed. 

"M-More t-than anything…"

"Then put it to good use."

Maul wastes no time. He grabs his shaft and squeezes it again to make sure it is real. 

It is. 

It is real.

He begins the now unfamiliar movement. 

Up and down. 

Up. 

And down. 

"A-Aaah-"

Mouth open, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, the Daughter smiles at her achievement. 

He pumps himself and he is able to feel everything. 

Everything. 

"S-So s-sensitive…"

The Daughter stares as his muscles flex. She can hear his heart beating fast. 

"Faster." she commands. 

"Yes, Divine Daughter."

He builds up speed. Now his hand is steadier. More precise. He gets the hang of it. 

"I can feel every ridge… every vein…" he groans. 

He uses his other hand momentarily to trace circles at the very top of the tip, where his hole is. His whole body jerks. 

"The t-tip…"

"Shhh, boy, I know… I know…"

On his temples, two beads of sweat fall. 

"Aah-Fuck!"

He is lost in pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck… Oh G-Gods…" he whines and he opens his eyes and sees her above him. Close to his hand, working on himself. She sits upon his legs, but he can't feel her weight at all. Only her hands massaging his leg muscles as they get closer to his cock. 

"Faster."

Upon her command he pleads her with big eyes. 

"P-Please…!" he whines. 

"Faster!"

He moves with inhuman speed now. He is ready. He won't last. He has to come. 

"I-I c-can't, I-I…"

The Daughter notices how his back begins to arch. His moans get louder and louder. And before he can reach his peak, she slaps his hand away. 

"NO!"

"Lean back!"

Maul doesn't get to whine more because his hand is replaced by hers. 

"OH-G-GNAH!"

Now this is new. 

This is better than before.

He feels her fingertips as she jerks him off. His heart almost stops when her tongue briefly touches the tip. But she pulls back. 

"I'shuree pelir'e sharee… please…"

"My hand is all you will get."

He is close again. She can feel it. 

"I… I w-will…"

"Are you ready to experience what you longed for? So long… isn't it?"

"P-Please…"

"Does it feel good? My hand stroking your cock?"

"I will…"

"Red and standing proudly, leaking from the tip?"

"I b-beg of y-you…"

"Do you think you deserve this? A foreign hand giving you pleasure?"

"D-Daughter…"

"You dont."

"A-Aa-Ahh… p-ple-"

"But this is my duty. To fulfill your desires. And then…"

"I can't h-hold it a-any l-longer!"

"... you will fulfill mine…"

"Please!"

"Come!"

"GHAAA!"

Maul bursts with immeasurable force. White liquid leaks in heavy streams from his tip, coating his hips in white. He doesn't stop. His muscles spasm as his back arches. Head feels light. Eyes rolled back. Nails digging into the stone. 

He came. He finally did. He reached the peak he has been waiting for for over six years. 

The Daughter continues to stroke him until he comes down from his high. 

He breathes heavily once last time and she stops. 

"Daynas, Ancestors, Old Gods and new for the gift you have granted me. Thank you Divine Daughter for the fruit of your gaze and body…" Maul chants trying to wake up. 

The green mist disappears and the Daughter gets her previous form. The one that feels a bit more real. No smoke. No green tint. Maul's back is off the altar stone. He sits on it, staring at her. Feeling petty. Because he is. 

"What do I owe the Devine Stars for this?"

The Daughter turns to look at him.

"We are not done, it is true but…" it is the first time Maul looks at her and sees something a God wouldn't feel. 

Uncertainty? 

He frowns, confused. 

"... these affairs work both ways. You take something only so you can give something back. The only problem is…"

Maul sits still. 

"That I don't have a use for you right now…"

He cocks his head to the side. 

"I can-"

"Don't even dare to insult me by thinking I would indulge in such primitive needs. I don't need this! I am above this!" She bites back. Maul closes his mouth and looks down in respect. Only now he notices that his loins are no longer covered in white. In fact, there is nothing that would suggest his previous actions. What he gripped onto a few moments back, is gone. 

"Then, what shall I do, my Goddess?" Maul whispers. 

And the Daughter walks up to him for the last time this night. Towering over him. 

"Leave."

Silence. 

"I shall find a way to call you when I need you. And I will need you."

"Daughter…"

"For now… you are free. Your side of the deal will be paid another time. Make no mistake, I don't forget."

Maul stands up in front of her as he picks up his robe and tosses it over him. He bows in front of her, bending the knee. 

"Thank you. For everything."

These are the last words that travel in the air. Soon, he turns his back and walks to the dessert. He only rotates his torso one last time to look at the spot where she stood. There is nothing there. His eye catches a glimpse of mist, but it disappears. 

There is no one there. 

He turns around once more. 

And he takes a step. 

Into the desert.