Of course it would hurt him, but there was no greater teacher than pain. No greater reminder. And the boy was no stranger to this lesson. He didn't like to think so, Palpatine knew; didn't like to think such things influenced his thoughts and reactions, but they did, no matter how reluctantly. It was human nature. It was one of the most basic impulses in the galaxy, written into every cell in his body from the time that life first crawled from the seas- self-protection. Self preservation. And no matter how many times he dug his heels in and resisted, even his own outrageous stubbornness could not fight the mass of evolution.
Months of chastisement and indoctrination locked in that cell when he had first crossed Palpatine had made him obey - for a while. Six months, almost. Then the boy had finally pushed too far - pushed to see how far he could push, and lessons had to be re-taught, as they often did when such a relationship was new. His Jedi had woken once again in that same cell beneath the palace - his cell - a prison built to hold a Jedi.
And again, eight months later, when he had challenged too brashly on some minor point. And again ten months after that, when he pushed the limits of Palpatine's patience.
There were smaller incidents in between of course, things which could be dealt with harshly but immediately without resorting to weeks of brutal imprisonment, caging and taming that wild will all over again. One must be ruthless in dealing with even small disputes or dissent- pitiless and unforgiving, regardless of who instigated them. It was not only a lesson but an example to be followed. Had he done so, the boy would not be injured now.
Proof of the value of this method lay in his Jedi's own actions. It was almost a year since he had last laid half-conscious on that cold white floor of the cell - his cell - drugged to subdue and restrain him, but still awake enough to be aware of his own helplessness, resentment boiling up inside him as it always did, feeding the fires Palpatine had ignited,
He watched the boy now and remembered... remembered sensing the dread of his comprehension burning through the drugs, though he was too weak and too injured to move, to even turn away as Palpatine settled comfortably down beside him, using the long sleeve of his scarlet robe to gently wipe the blood from the boy's face as the guards had left the cell.
Palpatine remembered quite distinctly how dark the blood had been, even against the claret red of his robe; true red, like liquid rubies, his rich robe paling by comparison. Remembered being fascinated by its depth of colour for long seconds before tearing his eyes away and back to the flawless blue of the boy's eyes.
"It should not come to this. Not between us." he had said at last, regretful and impassioned in the same moment.
His Jedi turned his head just slightly, eyes heavy with drugs, aware of his Master's driving emotions, though he did not speak.
"You are mine, Jedi." Palpatine had said with total conviction. "You always were - you know that. Why do you fight what was preordained?"
"I am... not..."
"You are mine." Palpatine repeated with absolute certainty across his broken words, reaching out to wipe again at the open wound above his Jedi's eye, holding the cloth of his sleeve there until it blossomed beautifully through the fabric. "Perhaps I should tell you the past..."
"I don't...want.. your lies." the boy had whispered weakly, though Palpatine knew he didn't mean it, not really.
"My Master, you see, was a great Sith." he continued, as if Luke had not spoken at all, his voice kind and fatherly, as if telling a familiar tale to a young child. "A powerful Sith Master. He found me when I was very young, and he showed me the pre-eminence of the Force and told me that I could learn these things- if I went with him. Simply walked away from everything- my family, my world... my life. I walked away without hesitation, because I recognised greatness... and because I heard it call within myself."
Luke looked away, but Palpatine reached down to gently take the boy's chin and turn his face back, no admonishment in the gesture. "His name was Darth Plagueis, and he taught me well. Taught me everything I knew... but he didn't teach me everything he knew, I realised. Plagueis became obsessed with his own mortality, spent years studying Sith doctrines and holocrons to discover the secrets of renewing and prolonging life. But he believed immortality was a personal journey. He did not understand... you see immortality is also the continuation of one's lineage."
He wiped again at the gash which bled profusely over Luke's eye seeping a wide, viscous trail across his bruised skin and down hair and scalp to bloom into a rich burst of vibrant colour on the blank white floor, smiling benignly as he continued. "But what can one do in the face of natural selection? I thought... that I would always be disappointed. That nature had decreed that I be the last of my line. One cannot clone a force-sensitive without repercussions - the Force will not be bound by science - and why would I want anything less? Without the Force, the child would be nothing. But in his search for eternal life, Darth Plagueis discovered an ancient text... and with it the ability to create existence. Truly create; the Force itself bringing forth life. My Master learned this dark art... and destroyed the texts, knowing that through this he could control me."
Palpatine leaned back, eyes raising in proud rmemberance, "At the height of our combined power we did this- created life. But we did not know that we had succeeded. I believed that we had failed - that my Master had failed... and so he ceased to be of further use to me."
Palpatine paused at that, remembering... "And then something miraculous happened. A chance meeting; a serendipitous moment - a child, conceived at the moment that the rites were performed, had been born... on the far side of the galaxy." He shook his head, voice distant, lost in reliving the memory.
"I had succeeded- I had simply not realise it... but a being created of the Force could not remain hidden forever - not from his creator - his power was simply too great. It shone like a beacon, it sounded through the Darkness like a note of perfect pitch, striking instinctive resonance. The Force wanted us to find each other. So I found him, and he me... and the connection was instantaneous, the draw irresistible.. He was mine - created on my command to fulfil my aspirations. Mine alone."
The boy's attention began to falter now, made weak by drugs and injury, eyelids flickering. Still Palpatine continued speaking, reaching out to push back blood-matted hair from the wound, the gesture full of empty, indulgent compassion. "I thought I had everything that I wanted in this child - that all my ambitions could be fulfilled. He was an elemental being, raw power contained, exceeding my wildest hopes. Everything was possible through him. When I knew that I owned him, all my far-reaching plans were instigated and for a while I became unstoppable; invulnerable- invincible. But then he was injured, badly - and the power that I had poured into his creation was lost. Not all, but enough. And, more importantly, he had no heir - my line was broken yet again."
Finally the boy's head dipped to the side. He caught it once, eyes flicking open momentarily, but he soon drifted again, the sound of his Master's even tones strangely hypnotic, soothing even, though Palpatine wondered whether the words still held any meaning, lost beneath the boy's exhausted body's need to repair. "My Master, in his final revenge, had not told me all that was needed to create life, it seemed. And so everything; all my aspirations and ambitions - my dynasty - was lost beyond retrieval. I was left only power... but power is never enough, one always wants more... and that which I truly desired had been placed far beyond retrieval."
He smiled indulgently, raking the back of his nail slowly up from the deep gash, drawing a line in scarlet blood up into the boy's long, wild hair as he combed curved, ridged nails through it, voice contented and quietly triumphant. "And then you appeared, and everything, everything was within my grasp again. You are mine; that same resonance still sounds true. I created your father; brought him into being. Therefore I created you. You were destined to come here - to serve. To continue my work. You are my immortality, child. You are my dynasty. My legacy. You are mine."