Chapter Text
"A wedding?"
Maul completely stops eating; the fork and knife abandoned on the plate. Truth be told, he would have finished eating much sooner if he were alone, devouring the meat and carbohydrates like a true carnivore, but his master was there today. He had no idea what could have led his master to come and call him to dinner together, but Maul had learned never to complain.
Well, now the reason was revealed.
The master barely reacts. Continuing to eat his food as if he hadn't said anything important and couldn't see the confusion radiating from Maul. He chews calmly, letting the silence stretch before answering.
"Yes, a wedding." Maul feels his claws sink into the table, he tries to keep his face expressionless but by his master's snort, he's failing, "This will be the next way you contribute to the grand plan for the future Sith."
Maul opens his mouth and closes it, the silence stretches between master and apprentice for agonizing seconds. Maul is… confused, to say the least. He could never say he was completely aware of the plan, but he didn't think he would have forgotten a detail like that; the whole situation is strange.
He graduated from Orsis only a few months ago, and since then he has been dividing his time between Coruscant and Mustafar, his master's apartment and the fortress where he grew up. When he's on Coruscant, he's often on missions around the central planet or studying politics with his master; on Mustafar, he continues his usual training while studying ancient Sith materials his master recovered from Malachor. Both activities, plus eating and sleeping, take up almost all of his time, and for good reason; Maul knows they are worthwhile—he's even received praise from his master for them before.
But a wedding?
He swallows hard, closing his mouth tightly to keep the dozens of words rolling down his tongue from escaping. He straightens up, takes a deep breath, and then speaks.
"Master." Sidious is deliberate, he swallows his food and nods distractedly to his apprentice to continue, "Why do something like this?"
"Ah, my apprentice, you certainly haven't forgotten our lessons on political agreements, have you?" Maul is quick to nod that he hasn't forgotten the lessons. It was one of the few moments of peace between him and his master after all; usually in the man's office in his apartment, an almost complete silence disturbed only by the usual noise of Coruscant, "Well then, a political marriage is nothing more than one of those agreements. It's practically a hostage exchange with extra steps."
"Yes, I understand that, but…" He's pushing too hard, he swallows again, drumming his fingers silently as he's learned over the years.
"But?"
Maul wants to scream, really. Continuing seems so easy in his mind, just like obeying orders without question. But a marriage…
"Why me?" It comes out more spit-out than he intended, and he grimaces. His master still seems in good spirits, savoring the fragrant meat on his plate.
"Why not you? What reasons prevent this?"
He's about to shout. The answer is obvious. Because it's beneath him. He was created for more than this, he created him for more than this! Maul was made to fight for the Sith, not to be sold like an animal to play house with some future ally or something! He can do much more than this, he must. A marriage would be nothing but a huge inconvenience and a waste of his time!
"I believe that…" He carefully measures his words, weighing each one before speaking so as not to risk a lightning bolt to his chest, "A marriage would greatly limit my capabilities. I could contribute much more to the plan without such an obstacle." His master hummed along to the affirmations, carefully chewing his food.
"That's a good point, my apprentice—" Maul stupidly felt hope for a second, "But it's also a limited view of the situation." And it immediately deflated, "Yes, this marriage will restrict you in some aspects, but not all. You will still contribute to the plan in various ways, and although the frequency of your learning and training will have to be reduced and adjusted—" Maul shuddered. That wasn't one of the only things he had, and he would lose that too? "You won't be idle, nor will you have to maintain much civility if we achieve the marriage we envision."
Good humor. How rare were his master's good humors. Maul would have been punished much earlier in this conversation if he had been in a bad mood. Even so, he couldn't be satisfied. He couldn't get married.
"Master, please—"
"Maul."
It was like a lightning bolt striking him. The icy tone of his master's voice makes Maul shut down. He shrinks in his chair, his gaze fixed on the smooth surface of the table, on the food he barely touched and will surely miss, because he certainly won't get food again today. And yet he shows nothing. He lets the foolish hope disappear from his face, replaced by the mask of indifference he has developed. He almost prefers to let the silence linger, but he knows it won't work.
"Yes, master." Sidious resumes eating, his irritation disappearing as quickly as it arrived. "I will do as I am ordered."
"Excellent. That's the least you should do, apprentice." Maul nods, forcing himself to swallow the cold food; it's far from the worst he's ever eaten. "Now, don't be foolish. I don't believe your curiosity has been completely satisfied yet."
Honestly, Maul felt too repelled and uneasy to want to know more about all this marriage stuff. But that wasn't the answer his master wanted, and he'd already pushed his luck too far today. Calmly, he spoke carefully, without lifting his eyes from his plate.
"You said there was already some envision surrounding the marriage, so I presume you already have… a suitor in mind."
"Yes, we already know who the alliance will be with." Maul looked up, because that tone of planning and grim satisfaction meant his master wanted a direct, eye-to-eye conversation, two eyes, of different shades of yellow, met. "Mandalorians."
Mandalorians. Objectively, Maul knew that Mandalorians were recognized as accounting for more than half of the galaxy's bounty trade, were powerful and ancient warriors with a rich and intense culture, and that they had collaborated with the Sith before, although these alliances generally didn't end well. They shared a hatred for the Jedi, usually enough to cause a devastating partnership, but they would eventually turn against each other. But an alliance had never been made through marriage, due to the loyalty and importance that family held in Mandalorian culture; it might be worth testing this path.
Personally, Maul wasn't happy with the idea.
Officially, he had barely interacted with Mandalorians in his life; of course, there were jobs and missions where he might end up meeting a Mandalorian bounty hunter or criminal, there were contacts and informants who could be Mandalorians, there were paths that crossed for a second. Officially, Maul's contact with Mandalorians was simple and short-lived business dealings.
Unofficially, he spent years being tormented by a Mandalorian. And very recently as well.
Two years before graduating from Orsis, his master noticed that he had already learned everything the school's teachers could teach and schemed to bring back an old teacher to teach Maul. That teacher was Meltch Krakko, a Mandalorian from the terrorist faction Death Watch. And from the moment they met until Maul's last day at Orsis, that man never left him alone.
He never knew or could understand why Krakko hated him so much, but there was a clear perversion in the man that made him enjoy tormenting a boy less than half his age. He made tasks difficult for Maul, imposed conditions on work, constantly separated him from the only partner he worked well with, turned other students against him, and always, always, always whenever he had the opportunity to touch Maul, he was unnecessarily violent with the student.
But there was something about this bullying that went beyond pure hateful pleasure in making Maul's life a living hell; there was genuine anger there. More than once —and these moments were more disturbing than any bruise the adult could give him— Maul would find the man simply staring at him. Standing like a rock, looking at the Zabrak without saying a word. He could never tell what he was thinking in those moments, not by of the Force, nor by his expression. Because Meltch Krakko was the kind of mandalorian who never took off his helmet. Maul killed him and never saw his face.
Not that Meltch Krakko was a bad teacher, not at all. In that, his master had been completely right. The man was arrogant, but he had the skill and experience to back up that arrogance because he was as good as he claimed to be. Besides his master, Meltch Krakko was Maul's most important teacher; he wouldn't be as strong or skilled as he is now without the Mandalorian, however much he hated to admit it. Those two years as his student were more productive than all the other years on Orsis and even some years with his master. Meltch Krakko turned him into a true monster, as he himself was.
Regardless, the man's memories made him stay away from Mandalorians as much as possible until now. Especially those of the Death Watch. Marrying one now was possibly a nightmare come true.
"But the most interesting part isn't that!" His master said excitedly, ignoring or perhaps unaware of the storm brewing inside his apprentice. "It's that you'll have three choices for a suitor!"
What?