Alexis
Disclaimer: As always, everything belongs to the sublime George, and I am making no money.
Author's Note: As always, I go looking for more Palpatine romance and find I just have to write some more for me to read... This fiction, although compatible with Room with a View, is a different story and (hopefully) can be read as one. Unlike that story, however, Palpatine was disfigured thanks to Mace Windu, not age and extreme exposure to dark energy. I really wanted to see if I could write sex with Palpatine like that (and attempt believability!), which I shied away from before, but I am trying to challenge myself and you as well, the reader – so be prepared. I am approaching this piece with a question: What is the nature of our attraction to the Emperor? (I say "our" meaning, probably, those select few who do find him attractive or at least intriguing.) An alternate title might be: power as an aphrodisiac. Also, do try to remember the scale of the setting. Think of the U.S. president, then times the power that office resonates by a billion and you might experience the sort of awe the Emperor would inspire. We all talk about it casually, but imagine really being there. If you are reading this with Room in mind, it is set in the dreadful ten-year period of hate and self-denial. I hope that my writing is improving and that this story will differentiate itself; I have grown up a bit and my perspective has changed, but I am the same writer writing about the same people, so we shall see… Maybe it's a sequel?
The Garden of Eden
The first memory was always seizure. Unknown hands would rip at his skin; enfolding, encasing and smothering, and then his head would dip under the icy water. He would scream, but that only opened the gates to the water that came rushing in, while the cruel hands would drag him deeper and deeper…
He awoke to a dreadful screeching and an ache that seemed to encompass his entire body. Drawing a slow breath he realized that the shrieking had stopped. Shuddering slightly, the Emperor blinked and extended a withered hand to draw the covers higher.
Looking up at the ceiling, it seemed so high, arches flowing upward forever. The soft morning light did not touch the dark bed; but Palpatine watched as it edged ever closer, creeping across the polished floor, as he let the tension seep out of his bones.
A droid had drawn aside the heavy curtains, leaving the monarch an uninterrupted view of his gardens. The Imperial Gardens: a confection of colours and scents; his gardens. He let them run tours in the afternoons, but for now they were his alone…
As he lay there, staring out at the purple Naboo rose that climbed near the window, a smile coaxed its way onto his wrinkled lips. By itself the smile wanted for nothing, but set into the Emperor's face it was no more than another twist in a grotesque set of features.
Palpatine shuffled out of bed and drew on an obscuring outer-cloak that left only his hands exposed, their whiteness taking on a moonlike glow in the half-light. A small droid helped him put on a pair of soft, black boots. The Emperor lifted a finger slightly and the droid crashed into the wall, shattering.
No one disturbed him as he made his way down to the gardens. His Guard stood outside his quarters and only he and the dead architect and re-processed construction droids knew about the passage from his suite. Even if anyone did, the pass-codes were dire. Not having brought his cane, Palpatine had to watch his footing as he entered the fragrant forest, yellow eyes half-closed, dreamy.
His apprentice was being difficult again. Surely he must understand the darkness by now? Its thrilling and chaotic nature… But Lord Vader still had problems with control… essentially the same problem he had with the Jedi concepts… He would not make the effort to master it, content with simple usage… Perhaps I push him too far? Palpatine considered, he was not taught from his earliest memories to regard it as an honour, an art. And even though I am hard on him, I cannot discipline him as I would have Maul. It was a sad truth of nature that the ideal apprentice did not exist. Lord Maul had been too simple; Count Dooku too steeped in Jedi ways, even though he possessed beautiful control he could never have become a true Sith… and Vader… well… The last apprentice, could it be that he had spoilt him, as a parent did a last child? The Master thought about himself as an apprentice. Too disobedient, too strong-willed and too clever by half... too much a master already to take heed… Palpatine chucked, thank the Force I never had such an apprentice!
"Excuse me, what are you doing here?!" a young but officious voice sounded from the other sound of a fountain. A young man, perhaps seventeen, a mere child, strode purposefully towards the Emperor, who looked up, surprised. Tall, well-built, his grey uniform doubtless giving him courage, with his mouth set in a firm line, and his blue eyes determined, the boy spoke: "I don't know how you got in, but the gardens are closed until…" He stopped in a shock of recognition.
"Quite," Palpatine replied laconically, lowering himself to sit on the rim of the fountain.
"Y-y-your M-majesty…! I…ah… I-I…" The boy was too mortified to even bow.
In that moment the Emperor saw something of Anakin Skywalker in him and decided not to punish the wretched child. "I take it you have never seen your sovereign at close quarters before?"
"No, Your Majesty…" The tone was reverential.
"And so, how do you find me?" Palpatine found himself toying with the child anyway.
"You… you are the most commanding person I have ever met, Your Majesty."
The Emperor smirked while the boy smiled uncertainly, "A safe answer, child. I know beings that would have lived for an answer like that… you ought to have been a diplomatist."
"My father wished me to be a soldier, Majesty."
"Indeed?" Palpatine did not need the Force to detect the wistful disappointment in the boy's eyes. "How patriotic of him… So what is a soldier doing in my gardens?"
"I was ordered here, Your Majesty, by Captain Zao of the security division."
Palpatine laughed; it could in no way be described as a pleasant sound. "For such a young man, you have chosen most influential enemies."
"I don't understand, sire." The youth frowned. The Emperor was again reminded of the young Skywalker. Always more enjoyable if the prey was not playing along. This might provide an amusing diversion if I handle it carefully... He sighed nostalgically; nothing at stake, though, only his disposable new friend.
Lieutenant Alexis Ts'umin felt like a super star-destroyer had just collided with his brain. He retreated, reeling, from the light of the gardens into the dark, glossy corridors of the Imperial Palace, completely disoriented. He didn't even remember what his orders for the rest of the day had been.
The Emperor was not as Alexis had imagined. His imagination had supplied a truly awesome concentration of power: tall, majestic, implacable… more like Darth Vader, really. Up until now, the Dark Lord had been the most powerful man Alexis had ever met. Vader had been overseeing Governor S'umin's takeover of the Messari System. Alexis, a child then, had been very scared – not that he would have ever admitted to it.
Of course, every Imperial citizen knew what Palpatine looked like… But stills and statues gave no indication of that lightness of manner, the wit that still sparkled and – most of all – those eyes that seemed to know all there was to know about everything; eyes that had seen eternity.
"But, you understand," the Emperor had replied, "that you have been sent into this horticultural trap to be devoured by the creature that prowls its glades…" Palpatine grinned, revealing blackened teeth.
Alexis had been incredulous. He didn't even feel angry, just amazed. He had never felt more honoured in his life. His fellow officers looked at him strangely; what was wrong with Ts'umin?
"What's happened, Alexis?" his sister asked that night, as they sat at their table, with a packet of Kashu biscuits open. "You've gone off-world." Iulia Ts'umin worked in administration within the palace. Brother and sister shared their father's Coruscant apartment. Iu had an on-off relationship with a co-worker, but she never brought him home.
"Well…" Alexis began, "I met the Emperor today… in the gardens."
Iulia raised a curious blond eyebrow and flexed her hands, running them down her grey, pencil skirt. "I've met the Emperor, what of it? Wait – why were you in the gardens at all?"
"No, it wasn't like that… I must have talked with him for about half an hour. He showed me some of the rarer flowers."
"Oh," Iulia frowned, biting her lip, "a real meeting… you know; now I think about it… you're probably just his type."
Alexis felt his face going red. "Excuse me?"
His sister bit into a biscuit. "Oh, you know, tall, blond; very classic. Actually, you do sort of resemble General Skywalker… This could get serious, Alexis." She looked worried.
"Iu, I hope you're being silly – it was just talk, that's all! And who's this Skywalker? – I never heard of him!"
"Oh, I forget how much younger you are…" she smiled faintly, "Anakin Skywalker was Chancellor Palpatine's… Jedi lover. Or, everyone says so, anyway."
"Jedi lover? I thought the Jedi betrayed him…?
"They did… Skywalker disappeared – probably broke Palpatine's heart," Iulia added sarcastically, her long-eyelashes flicking downwards over sardonic eyes.
"You shouldn't say such things."
"Bewitched you already, has he?" she laughed.
"No… it's disloyal, that's all."
"Don't do this Alexis… it's not healthy to – know the Emperor… people change."
Alexis grit his teeth. Iulia was being an idiot. It was just one meeting; that was all. In all likelihood he would never see him again. His com-receiver buzzed, Alexis reached into his pocket.
"Let me guess, dinner at eight?" His sister drawled, standing up to clear away the empty biscuit packet.
Alexis did not reply, but pressed a button to read the visual message.
"Well?" Iulia asked.
"Jus Drav asking about drinks later," said Alexis distractedly. "Drop it, Iulia, you're being stupid." He went to his room and sat on his bed.
TO LIEUTENANT ALEXIS TS'UMIN, GREETINGS, HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY WISHES TO EXTEND TO HIS SERVANT A CORDIAL INVITATION TO DINE WITH HIM TWO DAYS FROM NOW. THIS IS NOT AN ORDER & THEREFORE THIS OFFICE WILL NOT BE OFFENDED SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO DECLINE. SHOULD YOU DECIDE TO ACCEPT, HIS MAJESTY REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE AT THE NINETEENTH HOUR IN THE GRAND SALON OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE, PLEASE CONFIRM.
SATE PESTAGE, GRAND VIZIER.
A dutiful servant, Sate had made the arrangements without batting so much as an eyelash. Inwardly, however, he was most intrigued. He read all the files on Alexis Ts'umin, and found them most interesting. A good officer, under Zao; there was a scandal a few years back involving his mother and the rebels… nothing which pointed to his involvement, however. Parents divorced now, of course, the mother no longer a citizen. Governor Ts'umin stuck in a wretched little system, disgraced by his wife's actions. No promotions there. The boy… the boy was promising, though. I hope Lord Vader doesn't hear about this…
Beware the man with patience, for he will wait. A Nubian proverb; and Palpatine had always found it to be a true one. He sat at the end of a long table, eyes staring into the distance, surrounded by beautiful frescoes, deep, rich colours swirling around the large room, blending with the veins in the marbled floor. A smudge of black at the far end of the cavernous space, the Emperor mused on the interview to come. In cases such as this patience and flexibility were the keys. He wasn't sure he could pull it off without the Force, but he wanted to see if he could. Life could be so dull without innocent beings to make it interesting. People without morals were so predictable, but one never knew what a moral man would refuse – but that was the game, of course.
The boy entered, staring at the painted walls. "You like them?" The Emperor asked.
"Not really, Majesty." Alexis answered, sitting down on Palpatine's left.
"Perhaps a bit too stylized for you?"
"I think so, sire. I like to know what I'm seeing."
Palpatine motioned for wine to be poured. "The talent is to guess, Alexis."
"I don't like guessing," the boy took a drink of the dark green liquid, his eyes fluttering slightly with the taste.
And I have gained a foothold and you have yet to decipher me at all. But I am used to that by now.
"Well, you will have to learn… otherwise you will not survive this palace. A talent for guessing is essential. Ask me a question." It was not an order, but the Emperor's voice had no need to command; to listen was to obey.
Alexis put his glass down. "Um… why have you asked me here?"
The Emperor smiled his strange smile. "…Because I desired to see you again."
"But that's not an answer!"
"Should I have lied? Because I think you will make an excellent politician, Alexis."
Puzzlement was evident on the boy's face. "But that isn't an answer either, Your Majesty."
"True, perhaps you ought to make one up?"
Alexis thought about what Iulia had said and immediately wished it banished from his thoughts. The spicy drink had gone straight to his head. Palpatine – so close – was staring at him intently, waiting. Alexis took another drink. At this distance, the Emperor's ravaged skin seemed like scrunched up, white parchment. Alexis wondered what it would feel like to touch… but those eyes… deep pools of gold… they seemed to draw Alexis out of time and into some other reality. His sister had sexualized this and he could not go back. "Because… because…" under that gaze, other words would not form, "Because I look like Anakin Skywalker…?" He held his breath.
"Ah," the word was as light as a feather, "and does your supposition alter anything?" It was mesmerizing. All Alexis' thoughts were rendered meaningless. Had General Skywalker really kissed those lips that hardly seemed lips at all? Was it possible to stroke that disfigured face? "…No…" he answered slowly, unsure of himself and everything else.
The Emperor seemed to exist on a level above everyone else Alexis had ever met. It wasn't desire, it wasn't revulsion; it was… fascination? What was this?
"What will you do?" Palpatine's voice was horribly close and strangely distant all at once.
"I… I don't know… I've never been in this position before," shaken, Alexis forgot the correct address.
"Understandable," the Emperor continued to smile. "You just cannot bring yourself to refuse, can you?"
Wordlessly, Alexis shook his head.
"Kiss me, then," Palpatine spoke gently.
Alexis looked, startled, to the guards standing silently in the shadowy corners of the room.
"Ashamed?"
Colouring, he thought he might cry.
"Leave us," the guards left, with a wave of Palpatine's wrinkled hand. They are my superiors, the thought echoed in the back of Alexis' mind. But the Emperor continued to wait. Tentatively, Alexis stood and stepped around the table to Palpatine's throne-like seat. He knelt, and kissed his sovereign's white hand. He smelt of… spice, polish and age. But the skin was not rough as he had expected, but very, very soft. He did it again, lips pressing into that strange flesh, the world going warm and dark as he closed his eyes. The other hand came around to lift his chin and trail up his cheek. What am I doing? But stopping was impossible, as he kissed both hands, which continued to touch his face, making him shiver as they received one another.
The teeth were a problem. Making his way through the teeth was hard. But they didn't feel rotten, just small and slightly sticky. But the movement… the movements… were sublime… and something wonderful, something that made his head spin with privilege, had ignited inside Alexis. I am kissing the most powerful man in the galaxy. And there it was. The fact… it was true, he just couldn't bring himself to resist.
One of the first things Alexis actually learnt about Palpatine was that he was a very private person. His rooms, varnished, sculptural and contrasting the light and diversity of the gardens with the smooth blackness within, were behind doors, behind doors, behind doors. "I permit no one but droids," the Emperor explained. "You are the first to visit." That, Alexis found strange. Surely Palpatine had had lovers here before him? "Not since this palace was built," the other man answered, as if reading his thoughts. They stood near the majestic bed, not quite awkward, but with the unease of two people standing at the edge of a cliff. Alexis shrugged his clothes off (if his ex-girlfriend could see him now!), but the Emperor had slipped only his shoes off, his doubtlessly pale feet were invisible, covered by swathes of black. He's uncomfortable, Alexis realized. I would be too, if I looked like that. He wanted to preserve his sovereign's dignity so he drew him under the covers and only then did he begin to pull at the enveloping material. Slowly, very slowly, he tugged down the obscuring hood, causing Palpatine's whole body to flinch. Oh gods…Those yellow eyes stared into his soul, what did those Jedi do to him?
The Emperor felt violated. A mere child was gawking at him, mouth open. It was unbearable. He had wanted so much to be touched again, but have to reveal his disfiguration was painful and surprised him by how much it hurt. Kill him. It seemed to only acceptable solution. But as his hands reached, he was instead drawn closer into the young man's arms, so that his head rested in the cavity of Alexis' neck. "That must have been torture," The boy whispered, mouth against his ear.
"It did – hurt, yes," a firm lips kissed the fine, white hair that still clung to his skull.
It was alien to anything Alexis had ever thought. He pushed at the folds of chalk skin, while without any pressure at all the Emperor set off a longing so strong he ached with the pain of it. The old man's body was so light, all hard angles against Alexis. Curling, wrapped in the priceless black sheets that spun them together, Alexis lost himself; enveloped in the identity of the other.
Erratic sounds drew Alexis out of his haze, which echoed around his head, as he gazed across at the fingers of morning light and blinked darkness out of his eyes. Something warm lay in his arms and he became aware of the source of dissonance. A wrinkled, white thing was coiled there, in the grip of some unknown terror. Its ivory fingers twitched, convulsing, suffering. Alexis, content, and wondering dreamily where he was and how much he drank last night, moved to wake his strange companion.
He was unable to move as the shadowy figures ripped at him, tearing his flesh, they rolled across a darkening sky, he moving just ahead and slowly losing height, then faster and faster he fell, they pressing closer and closer, against his mouth and eyes, until he couldn't see for their bodies, blinding him as he fell and desperately tried to claw his way upward…
"Shh… shhh… It's ok, relax, it's ok…" He did not open his eyes, but felt the comfort of another seeping in as he released a long breath and became calm.
The white creature relaxed, its eyes remaining closed, into his embrace. It was very thin and skin hung off it like yet another layer of material, silky and creased. Where am I? Alexis didn't think he had ever woken to so extreme a situation. If he hadn't felt so relaxed it probably would have creeped him out. How much did I drink before picking this specimen? Or did it pick me? The room was beautiful, with a high, curving ceiling, and expensive geometric furniture, all perfumed by a purple rose which twisted up from a garden below. The scent was exquisite. Where have I smelt that before? He inhaled. Yes… I know that… yes, the Emperor showed me that rose in the Imperial Gardens… A nasty feeling suddenly shot through his stomach as he looked down at the pale figure as it stretched sleepily.
It yawned, showing him a pink mouth and a set of blackened teeth, and snuggled further under the sheets and into Alexis – who became very still, swallowing nervously. I'm still dreaming, he realized; that's it… still asleep…
"I must get up, child," a baritone spoke into Alexis' chest. One yellow eye cracked itself open and Alexis froze, feeling very much awake as last night came and whacked him in the face. I am in bed with Emperor Palpatine… "What shall I do with you…?" the voice asked itself softly.
"S-stay?" someone asked. That wasn't me, was it? But his headache was growing worse and the bed was so comfortable, even if it did have a galactic sovereign in it as well. Maybe I could just curl up and die?
Palpatine slipped out and into the next room, leaving the boy in his bed. How odd it is to know he is there, feeling his pattern in the Force. Not Maul's vigorous pulse or Anakin's blazing warmth… not even a proper signature, just a small, comforting presence. But it felt nice, all the same.
He emerged eventually, clothed and clean, his body hidden away under shadowy robes. The boy watched him cross the room. The Emperor pressed a finger into a button on the wall. "Sate?" he spoke clearly, "I require clothes to be brought for the lieutenant. Something non-descript."
"Anything else, your Majesty?" asked the voice of the Grand Vizier.
Palpatine simply took his finger off the button.
Lord Vader assessed the new Queen of Naboo from across the room. Recently elected, she had come to pay her respects to his Master, as all Nubian monarchs were privileged to do in recognition of the Emperor's heritage. It stirred all kinds of memories within him… of Padmé, of cheering crowds, of a ginger-haired man who had promised to take an interest… The Queen moved toward Palpatine who, enthroned, graciously received her deep bow and congratulated her on her achievement. The Sith Lord found his vision straying to the side of the dais, where a young aide stood, amongst several. There was a knot there, that connected the boy to his Master, and Vader caught a glimpse of something that ought not to be there.
His hands clenched as he observed the young man. Tall, blond, much like he had – no…! He wouldn't believe it… Rage built up behind his eyes.
I shall destroy you.
Well, there's your introduction… leave a review… if only to compensate poor Alexis for that terrible awakening.