Chapter Text
I could see him. He stood tall and intimidating, the black and red markings of his face making him look almost frightening but those golden eyes...they made me feel other things. He sat cross legged on the floor, like he was meditating, yet he was staring at the floor. I wanted to reach out and touch him and I had no idea who he was.
"Who are you..." I whispered to myself and nearly shrieked when his head snapped up and his gaze locked on to me.
I sat up, gasping for air, in my bed. It was still dark outside, no doubt the middle of the night. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, my scalp damp with sweat. I'd been having these...dreams for a long time. My abilities began to manifest at the age of 4. At first my family assumed I just had quick reflexes. Until my brother began to do the same. I was 7 when he began to levitate things, his skills were much more apparent than mine, so my father reached out to the Jedi Council. Because my brother’s abilities were more noticeable than mine, they assumed he was a true Jedi youngling, and I was merely an observant child. He was only 5 but do to his high midicholorian count, they took him as a Padawan immediately. My family was so proud to have a Jedi as a child that they didn't even think they could have two. Our family was practically the perfect portrait in Naboo. My father, a member of the Royal Advisory Council, his beautiful wife and daughter, and his jedi padawan son.
I was 10 when the dreams began. Short ones at first, seeing family members get sick days before they did, seeing small accidents in the street. My grandfather was the first to put the pieces together. As the years went by, my parents and grandparents debated on whether or not to inform the jedi council of me. Then, when I turned 14, my brother was killed. He had been traveling with his master when a bounty ship attacked. It was that tragedy that pushed my family to make the choice to never tell the jedi council about me. They didn't want to risk losing another child.
For a while, that was it. I continued to have dreams, but I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about them unless it was an emergency. I could move small things with my mind but without proper training, it didn't get far. Mind tricks though, that I had fun with. After all, being a child of a Royal Advisory Councilman in Naboo gave me plenty free time and a restless mind. I didn’t go too far though; I didn't want to be caught. The next few years went by in peace. All around me, younglings in Naboo were found and taken by the Jedi council and I stayed alone in my room.
Then, at the age of 18, I started seeing the mysterious Zabrak. The images came in flashes: a dark figure standing in my room, the feeling of surprise, rough hands grabbing at me, a heated growling voice against my ear, and intense golden eyes. For the first couple years I dreamed it, I was scared. It felt like a nightmare. I began to worry that it was a vision, a warning that someone was coming to kidnap me or worse, kill me. I slept fitfully, each time I saw those gold eyes, I'd wake up, thrashing in my sheets. Shouting for help. And each night, one of my parents would come running in, terrified that my vision had come true.
Eventually, though, they stopped worrying, dismissing it as a simple bad dream manifested from losing my brother. To my surprise, after about 2 years, the dream stopped coming and I all too happily told my family. Things seemed almost too perfect after that. I spent several years working and studying to prepare for when I was to take over my father's position when he stepped down.
It was the night he announced his retirement and my ascension, that the nightmare came back. Only this time, it was different. I wasn't in my room. I was somewhere else, somewhere unfamiliar. A dark, grey room, adorned with red and there he was, pacing around the room. I could hear him muttering to himself. Most of my dreams now were like that. Him, always in his room, doing various things and never noticing me. Until now.
I reached over to my dresser and pulled out the small sketch book and pencil I kept in the drawer. After the 6th time of dreaming about him, I began to sketch him. I did that a lot now. Most of the pages in my sketch book were just drawings of this silent Zabrak. Although his markings did make him seem intimidating, there was also something...handsome about him. Though I would never say that aloud for fear of my mother having a heart attack. She had been planning my non-existent wedding to a fellow politician's child for years now. I can only imagine the look on her face if I were to come home with a Zabrakian on my arm.
The wind rolled in through the open crack of my window, sending a pleasant coolness over my skin. I always kept my windows open just a crack, especially in the summer. Mother often scolded me, saying something could happen to me but honestly, we lived on Naboo, not some crime syndicate controlled planet. I heaved out a sigh as I finished the current sketch of my strange dream partner. It was a side profile this time, his strong nose and jaw really drawing attention.
"I'll find out who you are someday..." I whispered to the silent paper as I watched the sun begin to peak through my curtains.
By the time I make my way into the dining room, my mother and father are already up and speaking in hushed voices.
"I'm afraid, Saecar." My mother whispered. "Things are tense enough with this...'clone war' going on but now-"
"Yiava, please." My father interrupted. "We don't even know if it's true. I mean really, the planet Mandalore? Taken over? Ridiculous. I mean honestly- ah, good morning, dear. How did you sleep?"
I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his obvious topic change. "Like a baby, what were you saying about Mandalore?"
He heaved out an exasperated sigh as my mother shook her head. "Oh, please, Saecar, she's probably already seen it."
I hadn't, but I nodded along anyway. My father set his cup down and pushed his glasses up.
"There...are...whispers that the planet Mandalore has been...taken over..." He said reluctantly.
"Taken over?" I echoed as I grabbed a biscuit from the center plate. "By who?"
"Whom." My mother corrected me.
"Yeah, that."
"We don't know." He replied coolly, taking a drink of his mug. "That's why I don't believe it."
"But what if-"
"Yiava." My father cut across, giving my mother a stern glance. "Please, I don't wish to discuss this anymore. Probably just a foolish rumor started by some punks."
The dining room only held a few seconds of tense silence before one of my father's guards came running in.
"Excuse me, Sir," he breathed heavily, holding a letter in his hand, "but I was told it was urgent. It is from Queen Neeyutnee."
My father jumped from his chair, snatched the letter away and hurriedly scanned over it. My mother stood up, her lips pursed. She did that when she was worried. I watched as my father paced back and forth before suddenly stopping and sinking in to his chair.
"My god..." His whole body seemed to sag with his words.
My mother rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. "What is it, my darling?"
"They...they're true. The rumors. Mandalore has been taken over...and what's worse...it's been taken by Darth Maul."
My mother stood so fast she rattled the table. "That's impossible! He was killed after he murdered Qui Gon!"
"Yes...I know." My father's voice was barely a whisper.
I knew of Darth Maul. Nearly everyone did. He was the first Sith apprentice the universe had seen in a long time and from what the rumors said, he was deadly. To think that a dangerous man like that could come back from the dead, it was horrifying. My father's guard stepped forward, holding a holographic device in his hand.
"Here is the photo, sir." he said before showing a floating photo.
My parents rushed to it, gasping in horror. I shoved my way between them, desperate for a look. I quickly regretted it though, as the very sight causing my heart to stop. There, plastered on a warning send out, was the man from my dreams. I had been dreaming of Darth Maul.