"Here," he said simply, and Skywalker dutifully answered his Master's casually confident gesture, in standing and stepping forward onto the dais to take his place beside the Emperor, expression impassive as ever, eyes as wonderfully cold.
Palpatine smiled as he turned back to Vader, aware of his disquiet and pleased with the way these first moments had proceeded.
"I wanted you present on this auspicious day, Lord Vader. You should be proud of your achievements--today marks the ascension of a new power in the galaxy. A new Sith."
Palpatine rose, turning his back to Vader to step slowly towards his son, aware of Vader's sense boiling. Delicately, he lifted a trembling hand to the boy's face, almost but not quite touching it as he traced its curve, claw-like nail catching just once against his jaw line, pulling Luke's gaze from his father to his Emperor, the boy's eyes narrowing just slightly.
Palpatine set his head to one side, transfixed by those icy blue eyes. "Though he has no name as yet, my feral Jedi. Perhaps for now that is best... It serves my purpose, as does he."
His back to Vader, Palpatine smiled at his old apprentice's thoughts... So easy to read; Vader had always been so easy to read--and to manipulate. His son was a constant battle, fascinating in his contradictions, that unpredictable, wild edge just waiting to flare...
"Will you fight?" he asked of his Jedi, voice a tremulous whisper.
"Do you wish it?" Even now, the boy wouldn't be led so easily, wouldn't be used as his father always had. Palpatine smiled his amused appreciation. "Will you fight?" he repeated...and the boy turned his eyes slowly to his father.
.
.
As the Emperor stood and stepped close to his son, Vader's eyes had stayed on the boy, so he perceived the shadowed instant of concealed distaste when the Emperor had reached out to touch the boy face, and with it the fact that perhaps he was not yet beyond Vader's reach...then Palpatine had whispered his question with near-euphoric zeal--and Vader's gaze had turned down...
He wore a lightsaber--his son wore a lightsaber in the Emperor's presence.
Luke had stood side on to him in the darkened Hall and as he walked to the Audience Chamber, so he couldn't have noticed it, but still Vader chided his own lack of focus in allowing his shock at the changes in his son to limit his awareness of the situation.
The Emperor sensed his chagrin, his dawning realization, and smiled at it, though he didn't turn to face his old acolyte. "I fear you allowed your wishes to cloud your perceptions, Lord Vader--always a weakness with you." The old man was ever quick to judge, to reinforce any perceived weakness in those around him, and thus his own superiority. He kept his eyes on Skywalker as he spoke, knowing that his close presence to the boy was unsettling for Vader. "Your son has no such flaw, though he's willfully obstinate, so very tenacious. He fought so very hard for so long. It took so much to break him."
Vader held his silence, willing away the burning burst of self-reproach which pressed down on him at the sight of his son's tightening jaw, the momentary flicker of emotion tamped down behind icy eyes as Palpatine continued, enraptured.
"Didn't you sense it, Lord Vader? The moment when your son fell from grace? It was..." the Sith considered, lost in reliving the moment, "...sublime. First blood is always so inspiring, my friend. Don't you remember?"
He remembered; remembered tears of guilt and denial scalding trails down his face in the desolate, broken stillness of the Jedi Temple, not a single soul left alive within, not a single thought to break the stifling silence, to still the scream within. Remembered the horror of realization driving him to his knees. The comprehension of irrevocable failure which had ebbed to a numb acceptance of the fate which he had locked himself into. He saw his son's muscles tighten just slightly and felt a fresh pang of disquiet as he recognized those same emotional scars, fresh and raw, still searing through his soul.
Vader knew that feeling so well. Desperate scars too deep to comprehend, which could be suppressed only by stripping thought from conscience, guilt from judgment, action from consequence... The Darkness freed one of all painful emotions which would constrain or hinder, but in return it stole everything--every comfort and serenity, every conviction and compassion was surrendered in search of solace, leaving one insulated and isolated, always alone in the empty Darkness.
All of this, his every reluctant step along that path, he could now see reflected in his son's eyes, at once wild with accusation and yet devoid of true emotion, tightly bound by the fear of feeling anything any more, for fear that one single crack in that dark armor could tear this fragile peace apart.
Vader's eyes were drawn back to his Master's, pale against sallow skin, sharp, expectant, watching him, waiting...
Pushing for some reaction...and he realized--remembered what it was. Why he was here. What Palpatine truly wanted of him.
"We will not fight for your amusement," Vader ground out, very sure.
"Mine? You misunderstand, Lord Vader. I am here merely as an observer. The choice to fight is not mine, my friend." The Emperor turned meaningfully back to the boy, knowing that Vader would do the same.
Skywalker didn't move, didn't react at all under his father's gaze, no trace of guilt in those hooded eyes...
Realization was like a physical blow to Vader, driving any last shard of hope from his soul as he stared into those blue eyes so very much like his own... He blanched, and knew the Emperor had sensed it.
Palpatine continued, eyes on Luke now, fully appreciative. "It is time for my fallen Jedi to move forward. To cut the final ties to his old life and carve a place for himself within my Empire. Where he belongs."
Vader kept his eyes on Luke, knowing the Emperor was speaking as much to him as for him. Though his expression remained hard and stormy, without any trace of fear, the boy had yet to engage in any way in what was happening. He remained silent, stance wary, combat-ready, shoulders loose.
But he didn't move forward...
"This is what you want, not him," Vader accused Palpatine, unable to stop his gloved hand shifting slightly to the saber at his hip in response to the boy's body-language.
His son saw it; adjusted his own stance accordingly. The moment escalated, Vader feeling his own carriage tighten, much as he sought to diffuse this.
"We will not fight." He put as much power into those words as possible, willing them to be real, seeking control. But the intent bounced off those mental shields, his son unmoved.
Would he fight?
The boy knew Vader's strength and skill--knew what he would face. Surely he realized this was a fight he couldn't win? Surely he realized that? Palpatine had effectively driven a wedge between his son and himself and this would be the breaking point--if he allowed it to escalate. But he had no intention of fighting. There was nothing his Master could do which could compel him to do so. Nothing.
But the look in his son's eyes...
Thoughts whirled as Vader sought to comprehend a barred mind, doubt and confusion stealing away logic to give darker emotions free rein.
Would he fight?
Vader's hand edged back infinitesimally towards his saber...and the boy did the same, head tilting to one side in warning, a knowing smile twisting his lips.
"Why did you come here today, Lord Vader," Palpatine asked, twisting the facts to serve his requirements, "if not to fight?"
Vader's eyes and attention remained on his son. His fight was here, he knew, not with the Emperor, much as he sought to distract Vader's attention.
Would he fight?