Palpatine turned to Amedda, "Chancellor- the disruption on Bimmisari?"
Luke remained in genuflection, one knee on the hard marble floor, one arm resting on the bent knee which was not, eyes fixed on the point at which the dais raised in carved relief from the main floor. So long that his muscles trembled, his spine cramped and his ribs ached. But he did not move- wouldn't give Palpatine the satisfaction of seeing him do so.
Time trickled slowly by, the sun pushing shadows across the vast, ostentatious room as he stared resolutely at the floor before him, beginning to call on the Force to maintain the awkward position. By early afternoon, Palpatine had found four opportunities to scold Luke for distracting him when Luke had attempted to resettle his weight, moving even slightly. Now the Emperor stood a good distance away at the huge arched windows which stretched to the vaulted and fluted extravagance of the gilded ceiling, gazing silently out into the distant metropolis, his next audience not yet admitted.
No longer the subject of his Master's attention, Luke leaned back just slightly onto his haunches in an attempt to still trembling muscles, and Palpatine turned on him.
"Are you incapable of so simple-an act?" he bit out venomously, "You've knelt so often that I would expect it to be second nature by now. It's where you belong, lest you forget."
Luke turned slowly, even this slight movement lighting fireworks down the tense muscles of his spine.
"Isn't it?" Palpatine provoked, meeting his feral Jedi's eye.
Luke held that gaze for long seconds, knowing he could so easily push this over into a genuine fight... "Yes, Master." He allowed at last, though they both knew it cost him.
Palpatine only smiled, voice amused and mocking now, "You bitter little creature. I made you everything that you are- you were nothing without me."
"I'm nothing anyway Master- isn't that what you always say?" There was the barest hint of defiance in his voice- but it was enough to ignite Palpatine's anger again.
"Don't dare think to challenge me!" his voice dropped from wild yell to threatening growl as he stalked forward, lips pulled back over spoiled teeth, hands held loosely before him, fingers stretched out as he disappeared behind Luke's view, the threat implicit in his action.
Luke remained still, reaching out with his senses, searching for the familiar sharp mental buzz of Force lightening being summoned into razor-sharp focus, his stance tightening in unwilling response.
Instead a strong hand grabbed at his hair, nails scraping his scalp, yanking his head back, "You are nothing! An irrelevant amusement for a powerful man. Everything that I grant you I can take away- position, power, freedom... life."
Head held tightly back, the boy met his gaze without struggling, no real fear in his eyes, even in the face of this. But Palpatine knew how to slice through that indifference. "And everyone around you." The Sith growled pointedly, leaning close. "Do you understand?"
Skywalker held his gaze for long moments before he broke at that, turning his eyes down though they were still as defiant as ever.
"Yes Master." he said at last, another hard capitulation.
Palpatine released him, turning away, voice scathing. "You're weak. How many times have I told you that if you allow yourself a vulnerability, people will use it against you?"
Luke said nothing, face a mask, boiling with frustration inside.
"Do I have a weakness?" Palpatine goaded, and Luke almost said it - almost turned and said it; 'Yes-me.'
He wanted to do it- just to see what his Master would do. Because they both knew it was true. Instead, aware of how close to the edge he was skating, he maintained his silence.
"Clearly it would do you well to stay a while yet and consider what I have just said." Palpatine ordered as he turned away, not yet feeling he had made his point...
.
And the day wore on, Palpatine remaining in his Private Audience Chamber attending to matters of State, his errant Jedi remaining on one knee before the throne, back straight, eyes set on the middle distance, calling the Force to him to maintain the unnatural, awkward position, his mind eventually wandering, no matter how unwillingly, back to Palpatine's words.
He was nothing. His Master hurled this fact at him over and over with such absolute certainty. Had done so since Luke had first been imprisoned in the cell beneath the palace- when he'd still naïvely believed that he had some kind of choice...that he could change anything at all. That Palpatine's will wasn't absolute. Every time he wavered, every time he faltered, every time he hesitated; who was he to question? He was nothing.
He was nothing. Not even himself; even this his Master claimed; his name, his will... his soul, in due course, just like his father. He existed only to serve, to fulfil Palpatine's expectations, despite his continued rebukes and punishments.
This was his life now, to stand by his Master, prey to his commands and coercions and volatile, mercurial temper. Perhaps that would never stop;
He sighed against the trembling muscles of his aching ribs, resigned to the realisation. It didn't matter- very little did anymore.
.
By mid-afternoon he was well past discomfort, his whole body beginning to tremble, spasms causing short, jerky movements as the bunched muscles of his stomach, back and legs tensed to cramping every few moments in dire complaint, his breath coming harder now, diaphragm compressed against the rigid tension required to maintain the position. But he remained silent, remained focused.
Palpatine allowed three private audiences to prolong the day, each representative walking forward and coming to an uneasy stop beside the silent, kneeling man, each invited to rise when they had knelt, none daring to make comment on the Emperor's Jedi, Palpatine conducting the audience as if the boy was not there at all, watching the representatives trying without success to hide their furtive, nervous sideways glances.
And all the time, his Jedi stared resolutely ahead.
Finally his Aides were dismissed and the Emperor stood for a short time staring out over the city as the sun dipped below the line of distant buildings, before walking slowly back to his throne to sit, taking his time to settle before, at length, bringing his eyes back to his Jedi. He watched him in silence for a short while. Watched the headstrong determination in those hooded eyes which would not meet his, watched his muscles trembling with fatigue, watched his chest rise in short, sharp breaths.
"You are so stubborn." he observed at last, amused and exasperated in the same breath. "How can you be this obstinate over so small-a thing?"
The boy remained looking steadfastly ahead, jaw clamped tight, head tilted forward slightly at the continued effort.
"Why did you not simply kill them?" Because he knew, Palpatine reflected; he knew there'd be a price for his disobedience; there always was. It never stopped him.
"It was unnecessary." the boy said at last, between clenched teeth. "At the very least it would have fed the Rebellion's cause with a new surge of outraged idealists ready to fight. At worst, it would have caused riots which would have spread civil disorder across the continent and probably the planet; it would have taken months to fully subdue and reinstate order, and countless troops would have had to be committed to the action. As it is the leaders are gone now and there is nothing to react against. The situation will dissipate within weeks."
"Have I taught you nothing, Jedi?" Palpatine dismissed easily, bringing the boys eyes momentarily up to his own.
He still revelled in calling him that, knowing how it stung; his fallen Jedi, his feral Jedi his dark Jedi... his Jedi. His. He had given the boy no other name, though he had taken his true name away long ago. Now this was all that was left; his Jedi, his Wolf, Commander of his fleet. But nothing more. Let them whisper and guess. The boy would never tell the truth; he did not care for his own past and was no longer bothered what name people gave him.