The Magic Spoon
Sate Pestage's seventy-one years weigh heavily on his tired body. He has spent the entire day and almost all of the night out on a special mission for the Emperor. He has not gotten sloppy, but he has gotten tired. Most of my energy now goes towards Rama than assassinations anymore.
His weary smile stretches against his maroon pillow.
He has no regrets for whom his energy is being expended for. It's just that he wishes he had a little more energy for tonight. He only had enough to thank Mr. Jade and to plant a quick kiss on Rama's snowy, sleepy head.
I'm so tired that I didn't even coo when Rama cuddled Heartless unconsciously after I kissed him. I didn't even ask Jade what Rama did today.
Rama is two-years-old; he can talk and walk like any toddler, except with more grace than any toddler should possess.
Then again, no other toddler is gifted with the Emperor's blood in their veins!
Rama is young, but Sate know he gets his unnatural grace from his biological father. Along with his looks.
Mmmhhh, he doesn't have his guile. He's intelligent enough to tell the difference between purple and violet. Yet, I haven't ever seen him cause any real mischief, at least not without Kinman's help.
And even then, Rama has a nasty habit of cracking halfway through a prank and telling him it was a joke devised by Kinman. And Kinman winds up with another mysterious scar.
He's so quiet and sweet…
Sate finally drifts off into sleep.
Sate does not wake up to a crash.
Tehehehe!
His son's impish giggling wakes him. Bleary-eyed, he checks the chronometer and sees 0500. Normally, he wouldn't get up for another hour to squeeze in some early morning training, while Rama continues to sleep for another two hours.
He wouldn't be giggling if he had a nightmare. And the giggling isn't coming from his room; it's more like from the kitchen…
Sate peels himself away from his shimmersilk sheets. He does not grab the dagger on his nightstand. His son is in no danger and is probably playing in the kitchen.
But why in the kitchen? I've never seen him play with Heartless in the kitchen. Maybe, he plays with Heartless when Mr. Jade is here. But he isn't here.
Sate shakes his head at his own paranoia. He has one of the best security systems on Coruscant, only second to the Emperor's. His Emperor and his son are safe.
I'm just being paranoid because I'm tired and I didn't get to listen to Rama's babble today. Er, yesterday. And the Emperor was being really se—
Sate halts as soon as he enters the kitchen. His son is not in danger, but he is not playing with Heartless.
"'Looooo, daddy!" His son waves at him with a large, wooden spoon encrusted with hazelnut spread. The bottom half of his little face and fingers are also encrusted in the hazelnut spread, making him look like he was playing in mud.
And it's all over his PJs!
The PJs were made of red shimmersilk with golden lace; it even had a small pocket with the initials R.P. in royal-purple thread. And now there's brown, hazelnut spread on that beautiful pocket.
Force-willing, Palpatine doesn't find out!
The Emperor gave him the pajamas, along with a dozen other outfits, for Rama's birthday.
I know Rama has more outfits than he'll ever possibly wear, especially with Kinman's seasonal clothing sprees, but these PJs seemed…so personal. So utterly Palpatine!
"Rama…..why are you eating all that hazelnut spread? You only like that stuff on your space waffles." Sate reminds his son. His son grins, showing off brown, sugary stains on his white, slightly-crooked teeth.
"I made it magic with the spoon! Taste, please!" Rama scoops up a huge glob of the hazelnut spread from the half-empty jar and holds out the spoon for his father. Sate's beady eyes look warily at the spoon, the probable cause for this entire mess.
"Rama, it's far too early for sweets." Rama's innocent grin stands strong in face of Sate's disapproval. Sate is reminded of the Emperor's whimsical grins in the face of his sullen opponents back in the day; those grins won so many foolish hearts.
Hearts that he tore apart with his slightly-crooked teeth!
"Taste, please, daddy." Rama's exuberance becomes a cool request. Sate wants to sigh and shake his head. He feels like he's dealing with Senator Palpatine if the Senator's kind exterior was also his interior.
"…..Okay, but then you're getting a bath!" He sees a victorious twinkle in Rama's emerald eyes. Sate rolls his eyes and grabs the spoon from the hazelnut-stained hand. He gives it a small lick.
Hmm, not magic. More like cinnamon and more sugar! Force, he ate half the jar! Great, he's going to get a stomach ache later and probably diarrhea!
Sate grimaces; there's no way his son will go back to bed now. Not with that much sugar in his little body.
"See I made magic with the spoon! Mr. J uses the spoon with the cinnamon and sugar to make my porridge taste better! The spoon is magic!" Sate bursts into laughter at his son's logic.
Why do I keep forgetting that he's a kid? Kids just do these kind of things! Even Palpatine's kid! Oh Force, my sides hurt!
When he finally stops laughing, he sees that his son is eyeing the spoon like a present from the Emperor.
"….Okay, one last lick and that is it!" Sate swears that he will not buy hazelnut spread anymore. His son is already a wine addict; there's no need to make him a chocoholic. He holds out the spoon for his son to get his one last lick.
"…..Fine." His son takes one last lick and no more for he is a good little boy. Sate tosses the spoon into the sink and scoops up his hazelnut-stained son into his arms. His son decides to use his hazelnut-stained hand to grab his nose.
"There's some magic on your nose!" Rama laughs prettily at him. Sate shakes his head and grins at his son's logic.
"And in my arms!"
Author's Comments- No links this time.
Happy Fathers' Day! This was supposed to come out yesterday, but today works too! And that ending is cheesy, or hazelnut-ty, but I feel like that's kind of their shtick. Rama and Sate are so sweet together that Palpatine would be gagging at their treacle display of love. Even though, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep in his black heart, he is happy for them. Or as happy as a Sith Lord can be without his wine and the brutal massacre of his enemies.
Although, Palpatine would be awfully put-out by Rama ruining his fashionable pajamas.