So he walked the knife-edge between opportunistic dissent and resenting obedience, taking the opportunities wherever they were available, living his life in the gaps between his Master's overbearing, incontestable presence as his father had said he would learn to do.
And just as Luke had stated to his father three years earlier, it was no life at all.
Still, in some private corner of is mind he felt he deserved no better... and his Master knew this and used it and treated him accordingly.
And slowly, the lines of battle and tolerance had been drawn on both sides, the contentious, often explosive disagreements which had marked his early interactions with his Master mellowing now and settling out into a subtler game as experience taught him the futility of open conflict.
The basic rules of the game hadn't changed; Luke still found a large proportion of his Master's conduct and commands offensive and Palpatine still steamrollered over his unease as if it were simply not there, dragging Luke along by force of will. But slowly the dissents came smaller and fewer and Palpatine's resultant retribution less violent, though it irked Luke to think that the two were linked.
He had long ago stopped trying to look at his motives; the reason was always too uncomfortable to consider, because either he had grown tired of the constant battle and now gave ground more often simply out of defeated indifference, or he had simply grown used to his role here, jaded cynicism rendering what had once seemed outrageous demands on his Master's part insignificant. What discomfort Luke still held he clung to, all the more so because it had become so easily ignorable, just one more drop in a sea of misgivings, leaving the distasteful suspicion that he had not so much surrendered to his role here as he had perhaps grown into it.
But there had been at least some concessions on his Master's part, because Luke's time away from the Palace and the Emperor's manipulations had increased steadily, and he knew that wasn't by his Master's choice. And occasionally Palpatine did now defer on a point of contention.
Victories were small here - one took what one could... and planned.
.
The tall, ornately-carved doors of the Audience Chamber whispered open and Veers - one of his father's Generals - walked out, turning as he saw Luke and pausing momentarily to click his heels together and incline his head deeply in a smart, military bow. Luke only watched him, expressionless, filing the fact that he was here at all away for later consideration.
Chancellor Amedda stepped out and inclined his head just slightly in invitation as Luke turned away from the departing General. He took one last clean, clear breath of air and put the thoughts and doubts he connected with this haunted place carefully away behind mental shields - they were his alone and not for his Master's scrutiny.
Then he stepped forward.
.
Palpatine's feral Jedi walked calmly the length of the long room, taking the steps at its midway point without looking either left or right, keeping his eyes on his Master. But he knew, Palpatine could tell - he knew already that something was wrong. Perhaps because the room was empty save for Amedda, and when he was to be chastised, it was always behind closed doors. There was no public discord between the Emperor and his Jedi.
When he reached the throne, Luke stepped smoothly down onto one knee, the slightest hint of uneasy resentment colouring his sense. He'd never grown used to this as his father had- chose never to do so.
"The Neimoidian insurgency has been dealt with Master. The plot was unsuccessful and all of the military factories remain intact. Marshal law has been imposed on the Northern Continent only, but I foresee few problems. It will be relaxed within the month with only curfews and weapons restrictions remaining."
Palpatine remained silent as his Jedi spoke, studying him without really listening to his words - there was no need; he would have done as ordered or he would not yet have returned. And what he had not done, Palpatine already knew.
So he watched, admiring again his Wolf. Admiring those cold blue eyes, like ice in twilight. His wild hair was raked loosely back from his remarkably youthful face, long enough to twist into disarray, dark against pale skin. Scarred now, as he hadn't been when he'd first arrived here- mentally as well as physically. But then it suited him, gave him a dark edge to temper that naive countenance; depth and interest where before he had been unpolished and artless.
When he finished speaking, he made to stand, and Palpatine brought his mind to the moment.
"I have not given you permission to rise, Jedi." he said, the slightest hint of cold threat in his voice.
The boy froze - then settled dutifully back into position, his jaw tightening just slightly.
"You met with your father." Palpatine prompted curtly.
"My father met with me." The boy corrected, not lifting his head.
"For what reason?"
"He believes there is a spy working onboard the Peerless." This wasn't the time to be playing games, but Luke couldn't resist.
"Indeed?" Palpatine said blandly. But Luke noted from the corner of his vision that his Master placed his gaunt, pale hand before his mouth in a considered gesture, as he often did when lying, "And who would that be?"
Luke didn't hesitate, "His name is Drea Vose. He's an engineer."
Palpatine settled back slightly, his hand lowering at the reprieve. "Is Lord Vader correct?"
"Forgive me- he was an engineer." Luke corrected smoothly, setting a mental reminder to communicate the name to his father as soon as possible - for his own protection rather than Vader's.
"Then the matter is dealt with?"
"Yes, Master."
"And you are sure he was working alone?"
Oh, the temptation was just too great; "One must always remain vigilant, Master."
Palpatine narrowed his eyes at that, then settled again just slightly. "What of the ringleaders on Neimoidia?"
His Jedi tensed just slightly at the change in topic, the action visible in the changing folds of his cloak. He had changed before meeting with Palpatine in an effort to diffuse what he knew would be a problematic meeting, wearing more traditional black robes rather than his customary military-cut suit, in a subtle expression of deference. It was discreet and understated, but he knew that the Emperor would not fail to have noticed. "The Rebels were already gone, Master. I passed their identities..."
"The Neimoidians." Palpatine cut in. The boy did not raise his head though he knew he'd been found out - then again, he knew he would be; there were few secrets here and this was not exactly concealable. All he didn't know was the extent of his punishment.
"They were dismissed from office. New leaders of a more..."
"I gave the command to kill the ringleaders."
"They were not the ringleaders, Master. They were merely..."
"I did not ask for your opinion. Merely your obedience."
"You ordered that the ringleaders..."
"Don't argue semantics with me. You chose to interpret my command as it suited you- you knew exactly what I had ordered."
"Yes Master." the boy grated.
The Emperor sat in silence, staring at the kneeling form for a long time, considering.
"Perhaps you should stay a while and consider your actions, Jedi." Palpatine said at last in dry tones, and the boy shifted uneasily at the implied insult in that designation, though he didn't look up.