A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction
Chapter Two: Devil in the Woods
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CHAPTER SUMMARY: Plagued by nightmares, you sneak away to the ruins of the old church for clarity, only to face the devil in the woods. .
RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.
CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1,095
CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Loss of parents, death, grief, fear, trauma, nightmares, night terrors, war, non canon timeline
A/N: I’m thriving off of the comments and support. Love you guys! Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.
"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up o-er wrought heart and bids it break."
“My love, go to the old church”, your father begged, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. “You’ll be safer there”.
He clutched your arm tightly, the horror of knowing he may never see his daughter again glazing over his worrisome eyes. You had never seen your father so distressed. Despite the guards running towards the commotion, blaster fire crumbling the foundation around you, you stood firm.
“I can’t leave you”, you shouted.
“I can’t lose you”, he cried.
He pulled you tightly into an embrace, sweat and tears mingling onto each other's skin as he placed his lips against your forehead.
“I love you my little warrior, but please run.”
Your father’s last words before an explosion separated you, it rented the air as if it were intent on shattering the universe, ripping apart every atom.
Except for the piercing ringing in your ears, the edges of your eyes were blurred with dust. You crawled amongst the rubble, the fabric of your dress tearing with each graze of gravel. A shard of stained glass protruded from your arm, the trail of blood glutinous and cold. You had yet to feel its sting. Fear moved your body along, legs wobbling like a newly born deer, and with each step you cried out. Bodies were scattered beneath your feet, crushed from falling rubble, blaster rounds through their skin. The air tasted metallic. You kept moving in the opposite direction of the guards until reaching the garden doors, the further you got the quieter the world became. Sweat beaded across your skin, the electric pumping of your heart pushing blood quicker through your veins and out of your wound. You were breathless, gasping for air as you ran. The soft pillowy grass a stark contrast to the battle behind you.
You ran until it was almost silent. Until you saw the stoic architecture stretching above the hill, sheltered by ivy vines and mossy stone. A once holy and sacred place succumbing to the planet. The moment your knees hit the stream of water across the floor, you wailed. Your harrowing scream echoing into the vast emptiness.
When you reached out, your fingertips met silk sheets.
Your hair was matted against your skin, the scar against your arm throbbing as if fresh. You were soaked in sweat, heart pounding so quickly in your chest you were unable to catch enough air into your lungs.
Thalia rushed into the room, worry painted on her face, but not fear; no she was used to the night terrors.
Too many times had she been awakened by your screaming.
You couldn’t look at her, because this time you cried. Sobbed, really. You could tell she wanted to comfort you, but you felt pitiful.
“I’m fine”, you choked out. “Please, leave me be”.
“As you wish”, Thalia obeyed, shutting the door behind her.
You felt claustrophobic. Was your castle a home or prison, for the answer existed in your feelings. Were these bonds of love or duty? You didn’t even need guards, for you had forgotten a world beyond the walls. You rubbed the scar against your skin absentmindedly. It wasn’t the wound to your flesh that was your highest concern, yet injury to your brain, the way you saw the world and perceived others.
You wrapped your cloak around your body and stood against the french doors of your balcony.
You felt you may break every bit of furniture if you didn’t get some fresh air. Desperate to feel the grass beneath you. To step foot in that church for the first time since the battle.
You weren’t afraid of the dark. You navigated the path to the ruins, not by sight, but faith and memory. The mist of earlier rain kissed the bottom of your bare feet against the grass, a looming fog ghosting through the trees. There was a steady glow of moonlight, the aphotic forest released a plethora of sounds of nocturnal creatures that moved safely within the hug of the shadows.
The narrow path at your feet fades and you follow the strip of naked earth to the towering structure. You feel almost breathless at the sight of it. Stone pillars with pointed archways untouched since the last time. Your pain absorbed within the walls. Your eyes flutter closed and you reach out to touch the vines, as if they would whisper to you what you needed to hear.
No, not the vines. Someone is there.
You whip around in disorientation at the unfamiliar voice; you’re faced with the devil.
“Who are you”, you demand with a sense of authority.
The stranger squints his eyes in annoyance, as if you were the one trespassing.
“I should ask you the same.”
He stalks you with his amber eyes as you come to fully face him, and although you try to appear unfrightened, your feet take a step back.
“I’ve seen you before”, you say.
He hums in contemplation before responding, his voice rich and deep, almost sultry.
“Ah yes, the little spy. You are quite…loud”.
“You’re not welcome here”, you seethe. The frustration of the situation mingling with tired delirium made you almost brave.
Until he removed his hood. A crown of horns adorned his head, making his frightening complexion that more chilling. Yet he stayed in his position, an almost curious expression on his face.
How dare a stranger in your home speak to you in such a way. You were growing impatient with the interaction.
“The princess of Utara”, you stated.
The stranger chuckled, arms extending behind his back as he approached. He appeared almost regal. Your heart raced with his closeness, your overconfident mouth surely to get you killed.
“Princess?”, he questioned, “you look rather..disheveled. Alone in the woods, barefoot, defenseless.” He said the last part almost as a taunt, a warning, yet his face looked rather amused.
The fear made your brain feel scattered and unfocused and you took another step back. The man loomed over you even from a few feet away and if it weren't for the moonlight, he would have been a shadow in the darkness. And when you felt he may strike, the stranger turned his back to you.
“Goodnight..Princess”, he spoke before disappearing into the night, so silent, as if he vanished within thin air. Your title on his tongue in almost disbelief, amusement.
