And the boy had read it. Just like that. As if it were the most natural thing in the world - which perhaps to him it was. The key to the prophesy.
Palpatine narrowed yellow-flecked eyes, contemplating his meeting with Skywalker, aware of the fundamental shift in attitude and commitment evidenced in his actions and intent tonight, immensely pleased with the outcome of his gamble. Because it had been a gamble - one which had gathered pace at an unexpected rate, moving from a minor contrivance to a major campaign without any further interference from its instigator. Palpatine had publicly recognised Skywalker as Heir in a ploy to draw him further into his new position and life and so finally separate him from the Rebellion to which he still held some sense of allegiance, all be it reluctant.
The end result had spiralled beyond all expectations.
His entire demeanour had changed- had been changed by this experience, as if some final deeply-rooted barrier that had hindered and held him for so long had fallen away and he had stepped free; raw potential realised.
The Sith that Palpatine had seen contained behind those ice-blue eyes the very first time they had met had finally come to the fore. Self-assured and incisive, wilfully independent, the volatile edge which had always plagued Vader was tempered in his son with a cool, calculating quality which afforded perspective - sometimes too much so, Palpatine felt. There was far more going on behind that detached, dispassionate facade than the boy was willing to admit, that much was obvious.
It would make him harder to control of course, but that was all part of the game.
He'd once wondered whether he would ever bring this wild thing to heel, whether he would ever truly control it. Even now, some tiny part of Palpatine questioned whether he was training a Sith apprentice...or creating a Master. That had never been a concern with his father, who had lost so much of his connection at Obi-Wan's hand and had always felt in some way beholden to Palpatine, having known him since childhood. But his son was different; he had no such allegiance, and while Palpatine had gone to great lengths to clarify to Skywalker that his own abilities were greater when the boy had first arrived, they both knew now that this was no longer the case- that they were at the very least equally gifted.
Oh, Skywalker held a healthy respect for his Master - for his power and his position and his ruthless will - but more and more as his confidence increased, the fact was that if he truly wanted to do something, the boy would never let caution sway his resolve. He was too headstrong and too spirited and too stubborn to ever do that.
Yet he still deferred to his Master's will in the end - would hold absolutely firm for so long then finally, at some private impasse, would concede. And to date, Palpatine had never quite managed to isolate what that was... because it wasn't threat of force. That was simply a punishment that he knew he would have to endure when he had gone too far. It never actually stopped him from his next insubordination, it simply made him choose them with care.
So it was something else which hindered, some greater threat which held him in check- and Palpatine needed to know what that was. Needed that power, that ultimate threat and control in his own hands, because without it he never truly knew whether his Wolf was merely waiting for its moment to strike.
Lost in his musings, Palpatine felt the vision tingle up his spine, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck and freezing the air in his lungs as he fell willingly back into its all-encompassing power-
... ... ...
... ... ... ... ...
He saw again the wolf in the night, the feral creature which had haunted his visions for two long decades.
It whispered through the darkness, wild and capricious- in a flurry of shadows it was gone and he stared at the empty stillness, waiting...
He turned, uncertain, the silence profound.
Knelt before him in mute stillness was his feral Jedi, eyes turned down in submissive defeat, the 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 - why did Palpatine know that so absolutely?
His Jedi stood, the confining sable cloak he wore slipping from his shoulders as he wordlessly held out his hand and once again, Palpatine's eyes were drawn inexorably down to the lightsaber there, smeared scarlet red, the colour of anger and passion and betrayal...
Vader's lightsaber - Palpatine wondered again if the boy would ultimately turn on his father.
Take it.
His Jedi said, though his lips did not move.
Palpatine looked again to the lightsaber, perfect scarlet streams seeping over the inactive hilt, running in ruby rivulets, dripping in dark drops from his Jedi's fingers to pool on the floor at Palpatine's feet, soaking a stain into the trailing hem of his cloak...
Something tugged at Palpatine's mind as never before, making his heart skip a beat in trepidation - in...fear.
His Wolf remained silent and impassive but something... something had changed in his eyes...
Take it...or it will kill you.
Palpatine looked up at this - never before had this been part of the vision.
"Vader?"
His wolf said nothing, merely held out the blood-wet saber, the pool of scarlet beneath it spreading out unevenly, fed by a trailing, glutinous trickle of blood which still oozed unevenly down the metal hilt.
Liquid life, rich and viscous.
Liquid death, weeping ruby tears.
Death...The lightsaber was not activated, but he could hear the bass hum of that non-existent blade, the hiss of superheated light.
Death...
... ... ... ... ...
... ... ...
Reality ripped through the vision, tearing away contact and leaving Palpatine to a still, solitary silence, unsettled and isolated in the bleak solitude of the huge, empty room.
.
.
.
Reece entered the dark drawing room, his charge stood quietly before the tall bank of windows, gazing out into the night. "It went as planned, my Lord?"
Luke shrugged without turning, "As much as these things ever can."
"But the Emperor is satisfied?" Reece pushed.
"For now." Luke said simply.
"Then we should proceed?"
Luke paused a long time in consideration, some part of him still unwilling to commit to a course of action which, once begun, would be difficult to escape or derail. But he'd delayed and procrastinated for too long now, and look what it had gained him. The galaxy had moved on and he'd been left floundering and vulnerable, and paid the price.
Palpatine had spent a great deal of time and effort tieing Luke's hands, and now Luke would have to invest much the same to extricate himself. And at present, there were very few people he trusted enough to depend on in this. Reece was one of them, as was Hallin. Mara was most definitely not; likewise his father.
As for the Alliance... he had hoped that he could open a dialogue with them and avoid direct conflict but that too seemed out of the question now. Still, the chances of their agreeing to his terms had always been remote... becoming more so with every passing year. What he needed was a change in their leadership, but that had always remained beyond his control - until now. Now was the moment that he could move forward beneath the cover of vengeance and retribution.