Luke remained sitting where he was, too weak yet to stand. But his eyes burned at Palpatine and his mental barriers, such as they were now, came up.
The Emperor stared at him for long seconds, that same sense of infringed ownership burning in his thoughts that Luke had felt before, though when exactly escaped his still-slow mind.
"Come," Palpatine ordered curtly, turning and walking from the room.
Luke sat for long seconds, still shivering, wondering what the Sith would do if he simply remained where he was; considering the implications. But he was already in a foul mood and Luke was too tired and too drawn to wish to push it further tonight.
Tonight he just wanted this over.
He shrugged on the dark, fine linen dressing-gown and trailed towards the drawing room without bothering to tie it, moving slowly, hand against the walls for support, pausing at the doorway to gather his strength to walk in a straight line to the chair, determined not to show his weakness before the Sith, though he probably knew it anyway.
Palpatine settled without comment into a chair beneath the tall windows in the Drawing Room, a second chair placed opposite him, Jade walking to stand to attention by the locked door to the Dining Room beyond.
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"You are dismissed, Mara," Palpatine charged without looking round. Aware of his own simmering anger now, he kept his sulphurous eyes on his Jedi as he paused in the doorway from the bedroom, knowing how indignant the boy would be after his maltreatment; that he would try to hold out as long as possible before being pulled into conversation.
"Sit," he said curtly, indicating the chair opposite him with a nod of his head.
Weak as he was, the boy didn't even bother considering refusal. He half-walked, half-stumbled forward, reaching out for the chair to steady himself, breathing heavily. Finally he sat, resentful eyes focused on nothing, lips firmly shut.
But he sat.
Palpatine watched him, angry himself, though for a very different reason. "Did you talk, Jedi? Did you hope to find a kindred spirit? An ally even?"
The boy didn't reply, didn't even look up.
"I would look elsewhere, Jedi; she has no compassion. She has no weakness." The insult was implied, but still the boy held his silence as Jade left obediently, the heavy door locking home behind her.
The hush hung uneasily in the huge, shadowed room before Palpatine settled again, eyes narrowing.
"How quiet you are today. Does one single word from another being give you such resolve? Perhaps I should bring her back and rip her to pieces, to clarify that if I intend you to be alone here, then you shall be. Should I do that, Jedi?"
Palpatine waited, still fuming; it took several seconds for the fragile, half-awake creature before him to realize that the threat was serious, several more for him to grasp that he would have to speak out to save his jailor, the person so diligently responsible for keeping him within the Emperor's reach.
He said nothing.
Perhaps he was learning--that compassion would always be his weakness, and Palpatine would always use it against him.
Unless he curtailed it himself; chose not to be used.
Had he come far enough to quell that defect?
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For Luke, the realization had just hit his sluggish mind with absolute clarity; that Mara wasn't being chastised because she had spoken to someone. It wasn't the Emperor's ownership of Mara that was being threatened. The reproach was because she was speaking to Luke.
It was the Sith's ownership of Luke which was being infringed--not Mara.
The distasteful comprehension had paralyzed him for long seconds before a tendril of Dark power had knifed through uneasy thoughts.
He sensed Palpatine call her through the Force, dull surprise registering at this though he'd known that she was in some way Force-sensitive.
They stared at each other for long moments, Luke's gaze emotionless, Palpatine's expectant, edged with excitement now. Neither spoke, the only sound that of the locks cycling open on the door, reverberating in the still silence.
The doors ground open and she walked in without hesitation, bowed expectantly. Palpatine didn't acknowledge her, his eyes still on Skywalker.
His face expressionless, Luke broke the gaze, looked away to the blood-red sunset.
Distantly, he began to sense the static build of Dark power around him, the drag like steel against steel, the transcendental inrush of energy as Palpatine called the Force to him, setting Luke's nerves on edge...
Saw his hands begin to lift...
"No." His voice was quiet and low, but he knew the Emperor had heard it.
For a moment, he thought that Palpatine would do it anyway; that he had committed himself to the act and now did not wish to deny it.
Then the Sith relaxed just slightly, the energy dissipating in a haze of sharp mental static, and he smiled easily at the woman, showing ruined teeth. "Thank you, Mara. You may leave."
She frowned, obviously aware that something of import had just happened to which she was not privy. But she was well-trained; she didn't speak, only bowed low, backstepped and left, the door grinding closed behind her.
"It would have been a pity to lose her; she is a very good assassin. I trained her from childhood."
Luke blinked slowly, knowing absolutely that he would have killed her; murdered in cold blood the woman whom he had raised from a child.
How could he possibly combat this being who held life so lightly? What could hold against this? The Sith knew exactly how to manipulate him.
Was he right; was compassion a weakness?
Palpatine resettled into the chair beneath the windows, the scarlet sunset bathing his pallid skin in a blood-red wash. "What are you thinking, Jedi?"
"Don't you know?" Luke heard the bitterness in his own voice.
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Palpatine held his Jedi's gaze, unfazed, enjoying the discourse. "Compassion is your greatest weakness, as I have just illustrated to you. In your position, I would have let her die rather than ask a boon of my adversary."
Did he not understand what a vulnerability he held? Yes--yet still he cradled it to him, knowing that Palpatine would use it against him.
This was Palpatine's forte, and he delighted in it; to see the weakness in every soul. Even the slightest crack could be prized open and exploited. Compassion could so easily be turned to paralyzing impotence.
He would cure his Jedi of this most human failing--it was not for their kind.
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Luke bristled at the Emperor's casual invasion of his thoughts, but not as much as previously. It no longer outraged him; he'd anticipated it, even expected it. His thoughts were no longer his own, the effort of shielding them too great to maintain now.
Only the precious few remained safely hidden.
"It cost me nothing," he said at last.
"Yet."
Luke shrugged his acceptance of this. "If you think me so weak then why am I here?"
"It amuses me. And I see raw potential."
"I will not turn." Luke's tone was absolute though it lacked bite, made slight and frail by drugs and tiredness.
"I did not ask you to."
"Liar." Palpatine paused, and for a moment Luke tensed, expecting a violent reaction. To him, this was the worst insult he could throw at the Emperor, yet Palpatine seemed not at all offended.
"No. I do not need you to turn--it is sufficient that you are here. With me."
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Palpatine smiled at the frown which crossed the boy's face; at the fact that he almost asked the question, then caught himself and look away. Still he answered the unspoken query; it was important that the boy knew.
"Because you are mine. You always were, no matter where they hid you or what treason and lies they filled your head with. I am reclaiming that which belongs to me by rights."