Yes, he would keep the boy, let him live. The past months had been exhilarating, invigorating. The boy's raw power and his obstinate, willful refusal to obey would always make him difficult to control, but the thrill of an apprentice who had the potential to turn on him in a way that Vader never would have was in itself stimulating.
Vader simply didn't have the will to challenge his Master directly; he never had. Palpatine's hold over him, instilled in childhood, had always been too great. He may covet total power, crave it, make subtle, veiled moves against his Master in pursuit of it, but his desire and his audacity were worlds apart. He had never challenged the Emperor directly, had never faced him down, had never drawn blood as his son had, both literally and figuratively.
Yes, he had owned a trained attack dog for too long, Palpatine realized. It was powerful and it was pitiless, but it always came to heel. Now he had a wolf--unbroken, unpredictable and craving to run.
Would it ever walk to heel as its father had?
Again Palpatine wavered, indecisive in the face of this genuine threat... But how could one destroy such compelling power, fascinating in its indomitable defiance?
Wildly volatile though--difficult to contain under pressure. And still in ascendancy, only just finding its way, the path being carefully meted out by Palpatine. Was he teaching his executioner, as Darth Plagueis had?
But it was so incredibly alive--provocative, mesmerizing, potent.
Greater risk for greater gain.
And such gains; he had sensed that earlier, as his Feral Jedi had called the stormy Darkness to him, had first truly used it and not allowed it to use him. The air itself had crackled with power, raw and raging. A new current in the Darkness, feral and unchecked, opening a new portal. Power had come rushing through and Palpatine had bathed in its reflected glory, had felt himself renewed and invigorated by the dynamic inrush, felt his own barren soul nourished and gratified, his own lust for power momentarily satiated by proximity to this distinct new consciousness.
Power which would soon be equal to his own, backed by that driving, singular will.
Power which was a real threat.
Again Palpatine hesitated, indecisive...
But he did not want to destroy that which he had invested so much in creating. He was well aware that his desire to possess may be influencing his decision, but he was prepared to kill him if he had to. The boy was simply too powerful to risk any insubordination.
That, Palpatine had learned from his own Master's very costly mistake. It had, after all, been Palpatine who had taken a steel assassin's blade to the throat of Darth Plagueis. Silent steel rather than a lightsaber, whose distinctive sound would have given its victim a moment's warning. He had identified the most suitable tool for the job, unbound by the ingrained tradition of a lifelong formal education in the Force.
The fact that Skywalker too had been trained only in adulthood rather than from birth had gained him a similarly unexpected advantage in that he did not rely too completely on the Force, instead applying that quick, adaptive mind to think his way around a situation.
Yes, Skywalker too would use stealth, rather than brute force. Would use any and every weapon at his disposal, which gave him an unpredictable edge in any conflict. The Emperor smiled, almost affectionately; in this they were very much alike. He stared down at the boy, who lay absolutely still mind and body, lost in the void between unconsciousness and exhaustion.
"Rest, Dark Jedi. Tomorrow is the start of a new life." Using the Force, he pushed the boy into deeper sleep.
And this time, his Jedi did not fight back.
Taking his hand away only reluctantly, Palpatine's eye was drawn to two dark droplets of blood by the boy's head, perfect circles of scarlet against the snow white linen, drawing him in, hypnotic...
The vision took him, unfurling like a silent explosion, ripping reality aside...
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...
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He saw the black wolf in the night, the feral creature which had haunted his visions for two long decades, whispering through the darkness, wild and capricious. In a flurry of shadows it was gone, as it always was, and he stared at the empty stillness...
He turned, uncertain, the silence profound.
Knelt before him in mute stillness was his fallen Jedi, eyes turned down in submissive defeat, a dark, heavy cloak of dense black fur draped about him, absorbing all light.
The wolf in the night... Pull the leash too tight and he will bite.
The Jedi stood, and the confining sable cloak he wore slipping from his shoulders to reveal scarlet slices slashed deep into his arm, dripping dark drops from his fingers as he wordlessly held out his hand.
Palpatine's eyes were drawn inexorably down to the lightsaber in his Jedi's hand, smeared blood red, the color of anger and passion and betrayal...
Vader's saber--would the boy ultimately turn on his father?
Why did he give the saber to Palpatine?
-Take it- His feral Jedi said, though his lips did not move.
Palpatine looked again to the lightsaber as perfect scarlet droplets seeped over the inactive hilt, pooling on the floor at Palpatine's feet, soaking a stain into the trailing hem of his cloak...
Liquid life, rich and viscous.
Liquid death, weeping ruby tears.
Death...
... ... ... ... ... ... ...
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The vision collapsed into itself, dragging the air from Palpatine's lungs, and he was standing again in the still silence of the shadowed room, staring at the twin droplets of blood.
He remained motionless for some time, contemplating the vision.
Would the boy kill his father then? Was that an unalterable, immutable event? Why would he hand over Vader's saber? Had Palpatine asked him to do the deed? Was it proof that he had complied?
What had he seen--a possible future, or a warning knell?
Either way, it was no vast surprise--the price of holding great power was a greater risk, a greater effort to control it, greater vigilance. He was comfortable with this; he even looked forward to it. A game of high stakes--the only kind worthy of his attention.
If it was a warning, it would become clear in time. Forewarned was forearmed, and gifted with the enlightenment of this vision, he now had the knowledge to shape its reality.
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Luke dragged himself back from the void slowly, knowing absolutely that everything had changed. Not just himself--everything. Nothing could be the same ever again.
Reality seeped in, demanding attention, but he left it be and lay deathly still, eyes shut, muddy brown light filtering through closed lids.
All around him Darkness swirled, every surface composed of it, every object imbued with it. But this was no longer the wolf howling in the pitch of night--instead it cowered and whimpered, awaiting command. He knew the power it wielded though, the power it had so readily relinquished. Knew what it was capable of...what he was capable of.
Was it this realization which had tilted everything?
No--something else brooded; something preordained pushed inexorably onward like the cogs of a lock falling into place. He listened within, attuned every fiber of his being to this deep stillness... He could sense it, ancient and primal, like the galaxy breathing--like life itself.