His son, on the other hand, had the power to be a real threat, though he had chosen not to utilise it; he had no desire to rule an Empire which on some level he still despised, and as long as he held that view, he remained controllable. Palpatine had no doubt that this would change in the future, but as long as he could read the boy accurately and therefore head off any insurrection, then he still remained by far the most appealing of the two - in every way.
He tolerated a great deal from Skywalker though he was never quite sure why. It had become a fascination bordering on obsession, his need to control the boy. That first burst of accomplishment when he had broken him, had taught him the futility of resistance and finally pulled that latent power to the fore in a burst of aggrieved fury, had been... Palpatine sighed now at the memory; it still had the power to move him, distant as it was.
But such raw expression had given way now to a far subtler game achieved in near-imperceptible increments, each meaningless when viewed in isolation but slowly, over time, accruing and taking their toll - though he doubted the boy saw it as such.
His action and inaction today was proof of that, as was his willingness to use Jade, though Palpatine still had faith in her ability to creep under Skywalker's defences. He'd taken care to surround the boy with those whom he thought might appeal; attachments were such wonderfully invisible constraints- they required so little pressure to exploit. And he'd yet to fully cure his fallen Jedi of his other weakness; the obstinate, wilful tendency to fight every dispute, even to the extent of fighting on behalf of others- exactly as he had once done with his precious Rebellion.
One should choose one's battles with care - how many times had he told the boy that? Step back and examine the greater picture, ask oneself if this fight is really so important to one's own goals and not simply a challenge on principle. There were times when the ability to step back, to control one's emotions, was the very key to success even for a Sith. How could one dominate one's opponents if one was not in control of oneself?
What was so wonderful was the fact that Palpatine had told the boy all of this--to master these weaknesses and to choose what was important, because only then would he fight with his whole heart and soul. Yet still he fought- even when he knew he had no hope of winning.
That was why he foundered; that was why Palpatine could make him stumble again and again.
He considered all of this now as he watched is Jedi where he had retreated to the far end of the cavernous, opulent room, as far from his Master as he could be without actually leaving. But he was hardly difficult to locate, despite his distance; his presence sung out through the Force, as powerful as ever. Muted though... by choice; Palpatine narrowed ochre-yellow eyes as he watched his Jedi, considering... yes, muted. Very little emotion ever leaked through those carefully-constructed shields anymore. One was left to wonder what else was cloaked...
The boy turned and Palpatine knew he was looking to his Master, aware of being under scrutiny, meeting Palpatine's gaze with equal intensity, nothing lost despite the distance and the crowds between them.
Palpatine leaned back, settling on his throne, arranging a smug, self-satisfied expression about his face, bloodless lips curling in the slightest of smiles, inviting the boy forward. He remained still for long seconds, clearly considering then, to Palpatine's surprise, set forward, the crowds instinctively parting as he strode through them.
Would he force an argument here, now? Surely he knew Palpatine couldn't allow that. After such a public display of accord between the two over the last several months, enough to assure even the most doubtful that there was no discord between them, a heated dispute now was unthinkable. It would negate all of that carefully-constructed unity, especially before this wide-ranging, unselect audience.
The boy knew all of this - he knew it - knew that a scene now would command the harshest punishment. Not here, but later, when there were no eyes to see. But knowing that, did he now think he would have nothing to lose, no reason to hold back-
He was halfway across the hall now, eyes dark and stormy, jaw locked, muscles taught as he stalked meaningfully forward, wrist brushing subtly against the lightsaber at his hip. Palpatine felt his own heartbeat begin to rise, body tightening as he sat straighter in the throne in preparation for the confrontation, aware that he must disperse it as quickly and quietly and decisively as possible-
Three Moffs crossed before his Jedi, momentarily obscuring him-
And when they had moved, he was gone.
As quickly as that.
Palpatine glanced about the room, still aware of the boy's presence in the Force but unable to pin him down, his sense veiled and diffuse. Frowning, he drew further on the Force, glancing about the massive hall, awash with colour and movement...
There!
The tall double doors were open, the Red Guards at the top of the short, wide stairwell coming to smart attention as he passed through, and Palpatine briefly caught fragmented images of his fallen Jedi's dark form as he set down the long, winding, mirrored gallery which led from the State Ballroom, pacing from the light and the noise back into the dim shadows, like the wolf he had become.
The Sith Master smiled, relief relaxing him back into his seat, amused that at the last, his wolf had made his presence felt- and that without actually doing anything. Yes, he had learned his craft; a conflict was fought as much in the head as with the hand- lightsaber skills were not the only thing he had learned to master whilst confined within the walls of the Palace.
He glanced about the hall again, reaching into the Force to summon Mara to the Dais.
She approached with her usual feline elegance, hips swaying gracefully in the svelte, fitted black vinesilk dress she wore, fiery auburn hair aglow in the low light. She'd always known how to dress provocatively; had used it to good effect many times on various targets, but she had no such assignment tonight, leaving him to ponder momentarily why she had dressed this way; it certainly wasn't for him.
She bowed respectfully, loose hair falling about her bare shoulders, "Master?"
She had, Palpatine realised, already been halfway to the doors when he had recalled her. "Go after him." he ordered simply, feeling no need to elaborate further, "I want to know what he does- stay close to him tonight."
Mara felt a pang of adrenaline-laced guilt at his words, but quashed it quickly, turning obediently to leave the Ballroom before he could question her further, pausing in the long, curving gallery set with a seemingly endless run of hand-cast mirrors, each two storeys tall, their size and handmade nature causing slight distortions, unique to each one, endlessly refracting the same disjointed images back and forth across the walls of the long gallery.
She stood expectantly before one, ignoring the twisted, grotesque image it represented, and it opened with the slightest 'click' onto a small guard room-come watching post. Stepping in as the mirror-door closed behind her, she contacted Security, waiting for them to track down Skywalker's location, which seemed to take an excessive amount of time given the level of security here tonight. She'd eventually ordered surveillance to check security images rather than try to locate him by the guard's recognition, knowing that if he didn't want to be seen then he simply wouldn't be, and had set his recognition code into the ID Tracer in the small room when his location came up.
It was, surprisingly, in his apartments, Reece having logged his arrival there only moments ago.
Mara set off walking from the South to the West Tower, taking her time, giving Skywalker breathing space; time to cool down. She'd watched, breathless, the little game of nerves he'd played out against his Master, setting Mara's heart in her throat at the certain belief that he was about to make a challenge, knowing that Palpatine couldn't allow it, seeing her master actually tense in uncertainty as Luke approached, Mara setting forward too, hoping to dispel it before it erupted. Then he'd vanished, disappearing into the crowd like a cipher even though she was watching him, and Mara knew that had been his intent all along; simply to unnerve - a pointless risk for no other reason than his own short temper.