Archive of Our Own ^beta

Maul and Obi-Wan are on a mission with Quigon to Jakku to connect with a new Force sensitive. A mother who had contacted the Temple said her daughter had shown signs of the Force. Worried of local reaction in the outer rim, she only waited 108 days before sending her message. It was filled with the hope for a better life for her child than that of a moisture farmer toiling under a blazing sun.

So far the mission had gone smoothly. Dooku was away on other business and with Quigon on his own with the two Padawans, he was worried their frequent bickering would upset the new mother and increase her stress of handing over her child to safe hands. However, he was surprised to find the two had a lot less to shout about these days.

And so after arriving on the edge of town and entering the whirring ranch gates of a moisture farm, the two boys and Master were ushered into a small homestead. Having arrived by the setting sun, they agreed to meet the daughter in the morning. The mother, Jiran, only had one spare bedroom, which was claimed by their elder without much fuss. The boys were eager to sleep under the stars after most of their nights under the Coruscant city lights.

The two set up their traveler's tent just to the side of the house. Jiran had helped the two city boys start a campfire for themselves, the flames now simmering down to a gentle flicker.

Obi-wan was nearly recovered from his shoulder burn. Bacta patch now swapped out for a dry bandage that would protect the new sensitive skin from his abrasive robes. He only noticed it occasionally, when the skin itched at the wound edges.

His hand reached to scratch his shoulder for the hundredth time that day, and a dark hand predictably shot out to slap it away.

"Stop that," Maul hissed. While his gaze was lost in the darkness above moments ago, his reaction was instant.

"You try growing new skin. See how easily you could resist," Obi-wan replied. His gaze turned once again towards his friend.

"I would never succumb to the temptation of a simple scratch!" he rebutted with a soft passion. Even over a teasing challenge, Obi-wan picked up on Maul's slight pride and chuckled.

Obi-wan put a palm to his chest in mock dramatics. "Surely, you must be a fool to ignore life's simplest of delights. Scratching a healing wound, removing your boots after errands in the Archives, a steaming shower after a long day of training. I know you don't have hair, but even massaging your own scalp after a rigorous meditation session— one must partake in these pleasures to make it through Jedi learning."

"You're a fool in Learner clothing, Obi-wan." Maul kept his tone serious, but his gaze light. "One might think you were pitching me to the Dark side with your talk of pleasures and nonsense."

Maul glanced to the recovered shoulder. A flash of guilt furrowed his brow bone. He opened his mouth to speak, but frowned after a moment.

What is it? Obi-wan nudged through the force. He heard Maul inhale sharply, not expecting to be sensed so clearly.

In a gradual creeping, Obi-wan felt the presence of guilt in the air.

"If I was better— if my light saber had been built correctly, then—"

"No, Maul. Like you said, I am a fool in Learner clothing. It was not mine to test, although I'm glad it was me instead of you."

"But if I was quick enough, if it was me," Maul said. Once again, a hot anger found its way out of him.

"Well it was me and we weren't quick enough. That is the part of learning that we must face together and on our own. Aren't you glad we can take this journey? To learn together?" In response to Maul's guilt, Obi-wan responded with curiosity. A brightness spread around them, even as the fires dimmed to embers. Their camp was now more lit by the moon and stars than by the hearth.

Maul exhaled and found himself leaning into that brightness.

"Could I— could I see it?" Maul asked hesitantly. "I want to see that you're okay."

"Oh. Um, yes." Obi-wan understood. The last time Maul had seen his shoulder, it was freshly burned and blistered. A large gash had replaced a hand-sized chunk of his shoulder. He was rushed away so quickly, there was no chance for Maul to ease his worries or guilt.

He slipped his robe down the side to his elbow. A cool breeze came and Obi-wan felt himself shiver.

"It's so… pink," Maul observed.

"Yes, well we can't all be dark red with intricate black tattoos, can we?" Obi-wan ran his hand over the skin. "Besides, it's only this pink because it's new. Hopefully that fades over time. I would hate to memorialize my first battle scar as self-inflicted."

"Don't joke about this. It's still a serious wound," he said thickly. He looked stiffly at the bare flesh, uncertain to continue in his guilt or investigate the healing wound. Remorse flickered in his eyes as he looked away.

"Maul, I'm fine. Believe me, if I wasn't, I wouldn't be this quippy. You said so yourself!" Obi-wan grabbed Maul's hand, "See for yourself, it's almost back to normal."

His attention piqued back towards the wound and his outstretched hand lifted towards Obiwan's exposed shoulder.

With surprising gentleness, Maul let his fingertips brush the edges of the wound.

"See?" Obi-wan tried to catch Maul's gaze, but his eyes were locked onto his shoulder.

Maul's fingers continued to travel up the pink skin. His gaze betraying the interest that was felt over the tangible outcome of his mistake. He drew lines up following the tendons beneath, allowing gentle pressure to test the depth of the wound.

"I don't know how I'm expected to resist scratching it now," Obi-wan said as he averted his gaze.

Oh, Maul thought. He drew delicate circles now, moving his hands just slightly over the edges of the new lines and back again.

Obiwan's breath hitched and a small squeak escaped his throat. "Maul, I— I can see that your curious about how it's healed, but this is really quite ticklish."

"Can you tell the difference between the patches?" he asked. His gentle brushstrokes shifted to a firmer pressure, letting his nails scrape along the skin.

"Okay, but when I scratch it, it's a problem?" Obi-wan scoffed, and he couldn't help the shiver that escaped his body.

Maul's patterns traveled down Obiwan's arm and back up his neck. His fingers brushing passed the point of the healing. Underneath his fingertips, Maul noticed the slight shift between the softer patch and the more worn skin.

"The shoulder is more sensitive for sure, but the rest of me still has its usual feeling. This is all generally pleasurably, new skin or not." Obi-wan closed his eyes for a lingering moment.

"I—that's good. I'm glad you're okay," Maul said at last. His arm dropped back down to his own side and his gaze returned to meet Obiwan's.

A warm glow spread on Obiwan's cheeks and a twinkle in his eyes mirrored the night sky he and Maul sat under. He felt his breath catch in the back of his throat, frozen in the moment.

Obi-wan tried to reach out to sense Maul's intentions, but found only the lingering curiosity in the air.

Obi-wan shifted in his seat.

"Well now I hardly think I alone should have all the pleasures tonight," Obi-wan recovered his mock dramatics. "I think we should see if you could resist the sensation of a good scalp massage." He waved Maul closer.

"Aren't meditation sessions supposed to be calming? Why are you working out tension in your head after that?" Maul replied, but shifted closer to his friend.

By now, the subtle glow of the embers was all but extinguished. The desert chill was present, but Obi-wan found himself oblivious to the cold around them.

"I can't actually see you at all. Would you come closer so I don't accidentally stab myself on your horns next?" Obi-wan waved his hands blindly next to him, smacking Maul's arm to prove the point.

"Be mindful, Kenobi. We both can't have recovering shoulders on this mission. This lonely mother might think the Jedi take their children and punish them relentlessly," he said. Maul braced his knee and moved to sit right in front of the other. "You can't see at all? I never considered that Zabrak would have that advantage over human. You're still quite clear to me beneath the stars here."

Obi-wan felt a heat creep to his cheeks. To be observed while his own sight was limited felt exposing. He suddenly forgot what expression he was making, and tried to keep a neutral face all the same. It didn't matter for long when Maul sat his back to him just in front of his flailing arms.

"Is it dark then? On Dathomir." Obi-wan reached his hands forward, not gentle in his approach to Maul's form in front of him. He really couldn't see more than a vague form.

"Yes. You ignored my question though. What is troubling you so much during meditation at the Temple?" Maul made a small hum when Obiwan's hands finally found their place at the base of his neck. Obi-wan traced the collar of Maul's robes gingerly.

"Okay but how dark? Like, would I be as useless as a new kit on a rainy day?" He felt the warm skin beneath his hands. His own recovering shoulder radiated a warmth he was unused to, but the temperature of Maul below him was nothing in comparison. "Have you always been this warm?"

Maul had heard this question before. Why is your skin two different colors? Do you have to trim your horns? Why can't you wear standard learner clothing like the rest of us? Coruscant can't be that warm for you.

He never responded much to the proddings from his creche. Topically, he understood that they were just curious about his species. But below the surface, all it served to remind him was that he was different here too.

Yet, it wasn't how Obi-wan had phrased the question that caught Maul, but the proximity of his voice. He reached out towards Obiwan's force signature, and found that bright curiosity hanging between them still.

Maul shivered under Obiwan's touch. His hands begun to apply pressure at the shoulders. Maul felt his skin melt as fingers crept upwards. If Obi-wan had thought him warm before, he wondered if he'd notice the difference now.

"How about this? Since you want to avoid my questions and prod me all night long, we take turns." Maul said in a half growl, half purr. He gave a small cough, having not realized the sensations were causing his throat to rumble.

Obiwan's hands moved on to his scalp in comforting presses. Fingers splaying over the crown of his head, causing Maul to lean back just a little and close his eyes.

"Your attempts to distract me are obvious," Maul hummed. What's wrong?

Obiwan's force signature flickered slightly.

"It's um, nothing. I'm fine."

Maul said nothing, but turned his head just a fraction to indicate his disbelief.

Obi-wan grasped Maul's head to stop it from turning further. Not trusting himself to hide his expression, he held his friend's head facing forward.

"I have been… having doubts about the Jedi Way." Obi-wan tensed his hands, still in the moment of his vulnerability.

"Your simple learner pleasures are that insatiable that you've fallen completely to the Dark side? If I'm being honest, Obi-wan, I don't see it. This head massage is only just okay," Maul teased gently.

A hand flicked one of Maul's horns, not unpleasantly, before resuming a more comforting pattern around his head once again.

"I just… maybe it's this mission in particular, but I don't remember my parents. I don't remember my planet. Were they moisture farmers? Were they shop keepers or traders? Was my planet dark and warm? I don't know how to feel about the life I have, albeit, comfortable and content, compared to the life I could have had."

And just like that, Obiwan's previous questions reframed in Maul's mind. A yearning to know Maul's own upbringing to compensate the lack of his own. Maul didn't say anything as Obi-wan continued.

"Who's to say that this little girl is better off with the Temple? Her mother could've hired a guard, moved to a safer planet, or even sent her off to another private institute! Or maybe, she would have been just fine growing up to be a moisture farmer, who happens to use the force.

I guess I've just been thinking about what it means to be a Jedi— what I mean to be a Jedi."

Maul sat quietly for a moment. He had never questioned the Jedi the way Obi-wan described. His early abandonment by his mother, the grief of love for his brothers, the yearning for a home planet long left behind now— he had not correlated these events to have been caused by the Jedi.

"Truthfully," Maul said at last, "I had believed that this pain was my own. That I alone questioned thoughts like these, and if no other Jedi felt this way, then it could not be the fault of the Jedi that I feel this way. Only the fault of my own." Maul leaned back fully, prompting Obi-wan to slide his arms down and comfortably cradle Maul's head in his chest. "I feel this way, too," Maul said in a whisper. "You are not alone."