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Agen had ended up sleeping in the Crèche when they called him back the same night he had brought Maul.
His first thought was that he had become an adult again and that someone was needed to neutralise him, but no, all that was needed was to calm the terrified and unstable child who had lost his bearings. As hoped, Maul had calmed down when Agen had arrived, and since then he had been sleeping more or less peacefully in his arms, the two of them curled up on the child-sized bed under the quiet supervision of nurse droids while the adults looking after the children with diurnal pace of life took a little rest.
He had discussed Maul's case at length with the Crèchemasters, offering to take the child with him so that he could go home, but even though they were considering isolating him if necessary so that he could get used to things gradually, they preferred to start by treating him like any other child in the hope that the presence of other children would reassure him that he was safe.
Sometimes words were not enough to convince someone and only actions and time could sincerely calm a frightened creature.
He understood, he was not stupid or insensitive, but as the Sith Apprentice was terrified that his Master was coming to kill him there was not much he could do to appease him and even if Agen himself did not understand why the Sith had chosen him as his protector, it was done and that was all that mattered at the moment.
This child needed him with a level of emotional dependence akin to the physical dependence of a newborn on a responsible and protective adult and even if he was by no means a nurturing man he would take on this role as best he could. He had done it once, he could probably do it again... in the hope that this time things would end better, he thought reluctantly, instinctively pulling the little one closer to him.
It was not Tan, so it would never be like it was with Tan, but... for the first time since he had lost the one he had loved like a son, Agen felt... a bit more like his old self. He was living through a war, but sometimes it was as if he was walking in a dense fog or in an unstable, senseless dream, as if time had stopped and real life was waiting for him to wake up.
This little boy, as false as this accidental situation was, had clung to him and suddenly it was as if Agen was five years back, when the world was still in colour and not this grey, pitiful excuse for what it once was.
He knew he should not be clinging to someone like that, someone who might be a Jedi-killer again in the morning, or at least even just a Sith child who hated Agen and his kind and would do it again the second he was out of shock. It did not matter that it was Maul who had hold onto him when he and Master Saa had finally decided to take him away because leaving a child of that size and age alone, confused and destitute was not the Jedi way. It did not matter that he had shaken like a leaf in his arms for hours and sought his protection when Master Saa had examined him.
It was not wise for him to get emotionally involved.
A small, sharp horn digging into his sternum temporarily distracted him from his thoughts and brought his eyes back to the small form against him.
They did not know how old Maul was, the boy did not know for sure himself but he assumed he was around eight.
He was small for his age, and not in a very good shape. At that age, Agen knew he was much bigger than that, the Zabrak had a shorter childhood and a rapid puberty, besides from his memories of their brief confrontation Maul was tall when he was grown up, and the rare images of his brother showed an even more massive man.
He was short and skinny, probably living on deprivation to stay motivated... and submissive.
Never before had Agen pondered so thoroughly the reasons why people Fell. Well, no, he had, but he was one of those people who did not let that stop him. Whatever it was that drove people to Fall, many suffered without ever deciding to use their skills to hurt others... but what was valid for adult Jedi who knew better was not valid for a child.
How much self-control could a child have? What perspective did he have on life, on what was happening to him, on what life could offer?
What hope could there be for a boy who had been raised as nothing more than a pawn?
He had been destined to serve and die, it was so sad.
"Can't sleep?" The Jedi Master asked softly, so as not to wake the other children who were breathing peacefully.
The limp immobility relaxed by sleep had stiffened over the last minute.
"Everything is too luxurious."
Luxurious? Luxurious?
The Jedi lived humbly, they had only the bare necessities growing up, that did not mean they lacked anything but excess was not part of their vocabulary. The bed was standard, the blankets were of average quality and softness, even the clothes on his body had already been worn by others and would continue to be until they were too worn.
Agen would have no more tenderness for his enemies tomorrow than he had had yesterday, but he probably would not be able to help feeling intense pity for Maul even if he did become an adult again soon.
Poor little thing.