"Power Play"
"You don't fall in love with someone like the Emperor because you like the way he laughs or the cute dimples he has. You fall in love with him because you feel a kinship to him. You wanted what he wanted, which was power; and that lust for power won't go away.
-Corran Horn, to Ysanne Isard (Isard's Revenge)
3 years ABY
Ysanne Isard had proven a faithful servant; one whose ruthlessness and unrelenting lust for power had earned her a high rank under the Emperor's dark command.
Palpatine had first noticed her attachment to him when she was no more than a twelve year old girl, accompanying her father, Armand, to work at the Senate. Ysanne would follow Palpatine around like a pet, watching every move he made with awestruck respect and fascination. In her eyes, he was a hero. The man who had 'saved the galaxy' from destruction. And on several occasions Armand had come to him, musing about how excited his daughter spoke at home of 'meeting the Supreme Chancellor'.
Little did Armand know that the man who chuckled along with him did so not out of amusement at the girl's idolatry, but at the knowledge that the father was so blind to the truth that he could not see the darkness already coming to life in his daughter. Within Ysanne lived a creature so convicted in its passion that it was willing to lie in wait, until the appointed time, at which it would then smite any who stood in its path to victory.
It would destroy the chains of subordination and rise, out of the shadows, out of darkness, and into the blinding, all encompassing light that is power.
However, through the years, Ysanne's love for Palpatine had become fanatical, at times even delusional. And though she would never openly admit it, he knew that such feelings for him unnerved her in a way that few things could. Ysanne had come to rely on his favor. A slave to his affections.
In her mind, and in his, this made her weak and, if not kept in check, in the future could prove to be fatal. It impaired her judgment and warped her focus, and at times she became too intent on pleasing her Emperor than serving the Empire.
Other times, this weakness proved to be more entertaining than anything else. Palpatine found a small fountain of amusement in watching his Director of Imperial Intelligence fall prey to petty jealousies and resentment towards the other women in his court, which often sent her into ill rants of rage.
Much like she was doing at that moment.
"Anyone can see that Roganda Ismaren is a traitorous harlot whose only love for you comes out of a lust for power and revenge," Ysanne said, her eyes narrowed.
The Emperor glanced at her from his seat in the chair. "And?"
It was so much fun to see just how high of a pitch her voice could go.
"And you feel no qualms about having it public knowledge that she is your concubine, and yet when the public eye is cast upon the two of us, you shy away!" Ysanne crossed her arms over her chest, her hair falling to cover half of her face, leaving Palpatine the main focus of her crimson glare. "Her skill with sorcery aside, am I not better than some half devoted, scaly handed, slimy little…" Ysanne's voice trailed off at the sound of the Emperor's laughter.
"My dear Ysanne, I am surprised at you! I never took you for one to be so… ungrateful."
The Director froze.
Ah, yes. Sometimes a woman like you needs to be put back in her place. "I never realized that I treat you so poorly," Palpatine said with mock concern.
"Sir, I did not mean-"
"After all," he continued. "Have I not been more generous with you than I have any other?"
Ysanne was losing her fire, "Your Majesty, I would never want to-"
"Have I not expressed enough favor?" Palpatine shook his head and stood to pour a glass of wine. "What more can you possibly want? You wished for a prison ship and I gave you the Lusankya. You wished to turn it into a torture chamber and I buried it underground so that you could perform you're debauchery in private. Over the past three years I have supplied you with countless droids, weaponry, poisons, anything you needed to make your ambitions a success."
He took a long drink and turned to her, his face hidden within the shadow of his hood. "I even overlooked your lies concerning your father's treason, executing him as you wished, and allowing you to believe you had somehow maintained a flawless reputation in my eyes."
Ysanne looked hurt, which made it even harder for the Emperor to hide his smile.
"I should have known that there was no fooling you," she said. "Even for a moment. Why did you not correct me? Why was I not punished? Why did you allow the trial to continue?"
Palpatine shrugged. "What was the use? I knew you would prove yourself more than capable of meeting the needs of the Empire. Far more than Armand ever could." His voice softened. "It is no secret that I am proud to have you by my side, Ysanne. Take pride in your position and cease trying to become a meager little whore just for the sake of the public knowing the role you play in my chambers."
Ysanne looked away for a moment, and when her eyes again met his there was a playful nature about her that surprised even him.
"So you mean, I shouldn't try to please you with a performance," she said as Palpatine sat back down. "Even one like… this."
And while it was true, the woman was pleasing enough to the eye, the Emperor watched her show with the same interest as he would give any other performance he had seen a dozen times before, barely aware as she pushed his seat against the wall, straddling his lap, as she unclasped the golden chain that held her dress in place.
By now, he had memorized every line, every cue, and therefore, was not surprised when he saw the vibroblade leave its sheath around her thigh, and was able to deflect it easily a second before it reached his neck. Palpatine gripped Ysanne's wrist, twisting it behind her back, and sat, waiting patiently, until her cries of pain had ceased.
"I thought you would be impressed at my progress," Ysanne hissed through gnashed teeth.
Palpatine smiled. "You've come far in these past months, my dear. It was much closer this time." He flexed his fingers, and the weapon fell from her hand and clattered to the floor safely out of arms reach. This game grows old, Palpatine thought as Ysanne rolled off of him, covering herself with the fallen fabric of her dress.
"However, I must insist that you either hurry to become strong enough to actually pose a threat, or," he said, pulling the stricken woman up out of the floor and back into his arms. "Cease the tedious practice of training if all you are going to succeed at is testing your opponent's reflexes. After all, there are more intriguing ways to pass the time."
Ysanne would not meet his gaze and Palpatine was becoming more and more amused at her efforts. "I only wish to serve you," she said. "In intellect and command, as well as body- and in body, I wish for service aside from my talents as a woman."
Palpatine inclined his head, "Your devotion is touching, Ysanne."
"I try."
"Indeed you do," the Emperor said, and Ysanne rested her head on his chest.
"I love you," she sighed, and he knew that it was true. Palpatine regarded her for a moment, noting the differences in her mood that night. She was unsure, self conscious, and- most shocking of all- Afraid.
Palpatine untangled himself from her arms and rose to his feet, moving to pour himself another glass of wine.
"But it's not just the rebels and a need for service that have you so determined," he said with his back to her. "You fear Mara Jade." The flash of guilt in her eyes told him all he needed to know. "You fear replacement."
"My Lord, forgive me, but I-"
The Emperor raised a hand and Ysanne fell silent. This was just too much fun.. People were much easier to control when they were so eager to please.
"My dear Ysanne, what meaning does that child have to you? It is not as if she is after your position, she has not the skills for that."
"That's not what I fear, Sire," she said, her eyes wild. "If you are mistaken, then she could betray you in a way that would be detrimental to the Empire!"
Palpatine raised a brow. "Have you lost all faith in your Emperor, Ysanne?"
The woman fell to stuttering. "No! Never, My Lord! That would be impossible; I was merely stating my concern for your safety; that is all."
"Perhaps." Palpatine met her gaze and, placing his glass on the table, he motioned for her to come to him- a command which she gladly obeyed. "Let us speak no more of this tonight," he said, making sure his voice held just enough warmth to loosen the tension in her body.
It worked.
Her finger's caressed his cheek as Ysanne lowered his cowl to better see his face- a move which he allowed no other. Palpatine took her wrist and pressed it to his lips, feeling satisfaction in the way her pulse quickened at his touch.
"You will stay with me tonight, "he said, brushing back the hair that had fallen in her eyes. "That way you can rest in ease, knowing I am safe from treason from any hand, save your own."
Ysanne's lip curled. "I would never betray you."
Palpatine kissed her neck, "And I will never believe you."
Although, that wasn't entirely true- for his faith in her faithfulness was secure enough- a thought of discipline came to his mind. Something to make certain of the Director's loyalty for a little while longer. Palpatine allowed her to pull him to the bed as he shrugged his outer robe to the floor. His eyes glowed brighter, yellow flames flickering in the dark.
Misreading the meaning behind his excitement, Ysanne's own became bolder,hungrier, and she pressed her lips hard against his, her hands raking through his hair. The Emperor leaned back as her mouth moved from his, down to his neck, then chest. He waited until she rose up to untie his belt before making his move.
Palpatine closed his fist and her breathing stopped. Ysanne clawed at her throat, but to no avail. She was in his grip now, and she knew it.
"One thing you must never forget, my dear, is that as long as you serve me you can have anything you wish. Power, Fame, Fortune… all you must do is ask for it." Ysanne's face had flushed a deep crimson and her eyes were losing focus. "But, if you ever betray me- if ever I feel that trust in you is no longer valid- the world around you will come crashing down, and everything you hold dear will be destroyed."
He held her there for a moment longer, than released his grip. She fell beside him, jerking and heaving for breath.
"Remember that, if ever you feel the lure of the throne growing too strong."
"What do I have to do to make you trust me, My Lord," Ysanne gasped, pushing up on shaky arms.
"Nothing. It is impossible," Palpatine said, wiping away a tear on her cheek that had fallen from her bloodshot eyes. "We are too much alike, you and I."
Ysanne swallowed hard, nodding her head. She sat up on her knees and met his gaze full on. "What do you think I want, Your Highness?"
"It is no secret what you want, Ysanne," Palpatine said, his face hidden in the shadows. "You wish to be Empress- with or without me."
The Director looked crestfallen. "That's not true. I'd never wish any harm to come to you." She paused as if she struggled with her words. "And I am truly sorry if I have ever given you the impression that I felt otherwise. You're the only man that matters, My Lord. Forgive me."
Palpatine smiled and, in a rare fit of compassion, opened his arms to her and said in voice that held as much sincerity as he could possess, "Then, if you love me, strive not for a title as my bride, but for a place at my side. Whether it is by my throne, in my bed, or simply at the banquet table. If you love me as you say you do, forget my power; forget my wealth. Forsake all others and be my lover, as well as my servant. Become satisfied with the place in which you stand, and continue on in contentment."
Ysanne made no reply, but he knew she had been listening. Palpatine cupped her chin and raised her so that he could see her face. "Will you do this?"
When their lips again met, it was with softness foreign to either being. From Ysanne, Palpatine felt a strange surge of emotion: Hatred for being destined to remain inferior; Lust for power which she could never attain; and an unyielding, all consuming love for the man to whom she called Master.
Would he ever be able to return that love? Do I even want to?
"I will do it," Ysanne said finally, her eyes meeting his. "For you."
Palpatine was silent for a long moment. It was so rare that he found himself questioning, well, anything. Why that night? Why in that situation? Why did he keep answering himself with more questions?
It mattered not. Tonight he would give in to passion- for that was the way of the Sith. He found solace in this strange fear of Need.
In one, fluid motion, Palpatine lay the woman down on the embroidered sheets and, for a moment, was lost in the calculated wantonness of her eyes; uncertain whether the feeling he had when Ysanne laid that piercing gaze, ingenuous in its crudity, over him was one of pleasure or of warning- for he was well aware of what harm a woman's love could do.
They truly were more alike than he wanted to admit. One half of the other, he mused, watching as Ysanne arched closer to his body. And now it is time to for the halves to become one.
When they moved together, it was without restraint. All resentment faded away and each breathed in the other, a scent so dangerous but alluring, so surreal, yet so familiar.
It was in moments like this where fights over power ceased and each became submissive when required and dominated where the other lacked.
And through the night, until both souls lay gasping for air, trembling and clutching in a weakness that they would show no other- and that neither would ever speak of again- they released themselves to sleep, which sang to them, pulling them to a place far from safety, succumbing to the knowledge that, no matter how hard either may fight, in the end, they are merely slaves to their own darkness.
And chains of darkness are not easily broken.
*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*
Palpatine sat up, careful not to wake the woman curled in the sheets beside him. It was rare that he allowed her to stay, but as of late he was finding it more and more disquieting to be alone. After all these years, the shadows were starting to play tricks, meshing into ghosts from ages ago.
He cursed himself. After all this time, he should not have been plagued by such a trifling thing as Fear.
And yet that is what it was- Fear. A feeling he was becoming more and more accustomed to.
What was worse is that Palpatine had been seeing him.
Lurking soundlessly out of sight, a creature that had crawled out of oblivion and had returned from the Netherworld of the Force to claim vengeance on the traitorous soul who had sent him to an early grave.
Darth Plagueis the wise. Hego Damask. Dark Lord of the Sith.
Victor of Death.
Was back.
Palpatine shivered and cursed himself for doing so. What was happening to him?
He shook his head and turned to look at Ysanne, worn out from a night of passion. It was rare that he saw her like this- although it seemed like nothing had happened as of late that wasn't "rare".
She was so peaceful. So content. So… happy! The Emperor smirked at the tiny smile present in the corner of her lips.
Palpatine was overcome with a sudden urge to kiss her, but disgusted with himself for acting so compassionately, he merely flicked his finger, beckoning forth the vibroblade from the floor and into his grip.
His movements were quiet as he bent over Ysanne, placing the hilt of the weapon into her hand that was curled next to her face. Palpatine froze as she moved in her sleep, cuddling closer to him, her fingers closing around the blade.
The Emperor smiled.
Let her face this challenge, Palpatine thought. When she awakes armed, and with me defenseless at her side.
He lay back down, turning on his side. When he heard her stirring he feigned sleep, keeping his eyes in the Force trained on his mistress.
She was confused, but alert. He could feel her temptation, could almost hear her thinking how easy it would be to take his life, to steal his throne.
In the end however, she let the knife fall back to the floor with a gentle clatter and traded in assassination for a little while longer in the Emperor's arms.
Palpatine smirked, inwardly.
Will the game ever end?
Author's Note:
A bit different from what I normally do, BUT:
This story was a request by (And therefore dedicated to) DarkJediJade.
The cover image of this story was also her doing! xD
The story takes place right after the party scene in Mara Jade: By the Emperor's Hand.
**The ghost's Palpatine was seeing is not just random information, they WILL be seen again. Foreshadowing of an upcoming fic, you could say. ^.^**
I hope you enjoyed what you read!
And, as always, feel free to Review! 3