Beloved

MaulMaus

Rating:       PG.  
Warning:   None.  
Disclaimer: Lucas and Lucasfilm own the characters, and this is for fun, not profit.
Summary:  Maul returns to his Lady on Coruscant after a long mission.
Feedback:  Maulmaus@worldnet.att.net
Initial posting: On dmeb2.
Thankyous: Many Thanks to DarkLady who advised me to write my heart.  I have. Please stomp on it carefully!  Thank you also for the Beta and kind remarks.

Beloved

The final systems checks on the Infiltrator have just been completed.  As the ship races for Coruscant, Maul meditates quietly in his cockpit seat, running the details of this latest mission through his mind, again.  As he relaxes, his mind begins drifting to more pleasant matters.  He smiles, enjoys the brief diversion and returns his attention to piloting his ship.  He guides it to its hidden docking bay on the most populous planet in the galaxy. No one, save his Master ever notices his approaches or departures.  No one ever notices the dark, sleek ship passing by, they are all too busy, confined to their small, insignificant lives.  Lives that would soon be changing.  He smiles to himself, again thinking back on this, his latest successful mission.  He is always successful.  He never fails.  He is Sith. 

Maul stands guardedly before his Master, his report presented, details given, successful conclusions provided.   His Master nods, expecting nothing less from his Apprentice than perfection.  The Master makes a final probe into the mind of the young Sith Lord and gives him a harsh glare, a cold comment.  His Master cannot, will not, hide his disapproval.  His Apprentice’s mind has been otherwise occupied.   The Master’s form stiffens, anger flowing.  Maul bows lower, almost prostrate now before the embodiment of the Sith Order, but he does not relent.  The Master muses over what to do about this diversion - this woman.  He believed it to be temporary, a minor annoyance for him.  That was no longer true.

Maul senses his Master's thoughts, not hiding them from his Apprentice.  Yet, he knows the truth, as does the Master.  Maul is stronger for his preoccupation, one his Master does not understand but cannot destroy.  Both know its  destruction would only serve to strengthen the Apprentice beyond the Master’s control.  Each Sith Lord tells himself, patience, but in different contexts.  Maul ends the meeting with the usual, “Yes, my Master,” and means it.  They both know the true order of things.  Nothing more is said.  A wrinkled hand abruptly dismisses the Apprentice.  He rises and anticipation fills him as he leaves his Master’s presence.

He is swift in his movements, yet graceful and silent.  Inside his chambers, he skirts along the edge of the main room, in the whispering shadows of this, his sanctuary.  He looks for her, sensing her presence first, as he always does.  She is nearby, waiting and watching.  Praying to her God, to anyone who will listen.  He knows her thoughts, her dreams and her deepest desires.  She has great faith in him and his abilities, yet still she worries about him.  She is thinking of him, dreaming of the time they will be together again, longing for him as she does when he is away from her.

He smiles broadly as his heart races.  He desires her also.  This latest mission has kept him away from her for too long.  He strides forward, confident, sees her lithe body silhouetted in the silvery evening light from the window.  She observes the crush of traffic, rushing by in its eerie silence, but her thoughts are still with him.  She sighs gently, quietly.

He has almost reached her, wishing to surprise her.  He imagines the look of joy on her face when she feels his body next to hers.  The expression he knows she has whenever he returns to her. He glides behind her and smiles, reaches for her gently, pulling her body to his, kissing her neck and tasting her warm skin.  She isn’t afraid, she knows it is him and he feels her joy with the graceful touch of his fingers, the comforting touch of his mind.  She sighs and places her hands gently over his as she falls back into his embrace.  She happily surrenders herself to him and his strength as he pulls her close.  He holds her tighter; he has missed her, longed for her, he feels incomplete without her.  He whispers in her ear, nibbling softly on her delicate lobe.  She laughs quietly in satisfaction and calls him Beloved.  He smiles upon hearing her sweet voice, upon hearing her call him this favorite of names.  He kisses her neck again, feeling her smooth, soft skin react to the touch of his dark lips. 

She has a thousand names for him, but their meanings are all the same.  Beloved.  He calls her a similar name, ‘Dear One,’ in his native tongue, one he cannot say to her in Basic.  He cannot call her beloved or even tell her that he loves her.  She knows this, accepts it.  She tells him it isn’t necessary to hear the words, then she smiles.  She senses it every time she gazes into his eyes.  He does love her - though he never tells her.  She understands him, knows his ways and reasons.  She accepts him the way he is, not judging him.  She knows his darkness, his true nature.  She knows he is Sith and still she calls him Beloved.    

He releases her, for only a moment, just long enough to turn her around, to look upon her features again.  He never tires of gazing upon her face and body, at her soft beauty.  He touches her hair, running the silky strands between his fingers.  He touches her face and his black fingertips glide along her smooth cheek to her full lips where she kisses them tenderly.  She looks at him with joy and softness in her bright eyes.  He knows she never tires of looking upon him either, enjoying his face and form, finding his tattoos, his warrior markings, fascinating and erotic.  He looks deeply into her eyes, uses the Force to reach into the depths of her bright soul and partake of its delights, his own dark soul complementing the lightness of hers.

He sweeps her up into his strong arms, pulling her closer to him and she smiles before she reaches for him.  He presses his lips to hers, hungry for her.  Her kiss is like no other.  It is strength and softness, sweetness and beauty all in one.  She does not disappoint, she never disappoints.  She enjoys his kisses, often being overwhelmed by them.  His tongue teases hers, dancing with hers in pleasure and delight.  She moans softly, pulling him closer to her before pushing back.  She needs to breathe and gives him a mischievous smile as she takes in the air filled with his unique and exotic scent.  He smiles back and touches her red lips again with a finger, telling her he has a gift for her.   He always brings something for her.  She likes these gifts and enjoys them, knowing it gives him pleasure.  She smiles in anticipation, knowing he finds the most beautiful and unique items to share with her.  Items that exist nowhere else, objects without price and especially the gifts he has crafted with his own hands.  She knows he goes to great lengths to obtain these things, these tokens of his affection. 

He pulls out a small dark wooden box from a deep fold in his black cloak.  A tiny golden string holds the two pieces together.  He hands it to her, smiling, palm open.  She takes the gift into her own small hands, unties the string and opens the box gently.  Inside, on a pillow of black shimmer-silk, is a beautiful and delicate silver necklace with a glowing white pendant on it.  She picks it up, looks at it closely, awed at its shimmering beauty.  It almost seems alive.  It is light and beauty.  That is what he tells her; it reminded him of her.  She smiles broadly and kisses him before unclasping the ends.  He gently takes it from her hand and turns her around, placing it carefully around her throat and refastening the ends before gently kissing the nape of her neck, where the chain rests. 

She turns back around and smiles radiantly at him, thanking him.  He senses her thoughts about how generous he is with her, how she really doesn’t deserve this.   But he knows that she does.  She deserves more than he can ever offer her.  She thanks him again as she touches the pendant  and he sees how much she appreciates his gift, though he senses that she is happiest that he came safely back to her.  He is the greatest gift she has ever been given, nothing else even compares.  Knowing this is her gift to him. 

He takes her hand and leads her to their bedchamber.  Lying together on the bed they share, he kisses her again.  She tells him how she missed him, missed his touch, his caress.  She tells him she missed talking with him, missed sharing her thoughts and feelings with him.  She smiles and calls him Beloved.  He cannot tell her how he feels, how much he missed her, how much he loves her.  He cannot tell her how his body and soul ache when he is without her.  He can only show her how he feels.  

He starts with a kiss.

END

© Maulmaus - 2000