Chapter 2: Unannounced


Rey could feel him. He was hovering just above the planet, his aura like that of ice.

She'd dined outside today under the heat of Naboo's sun, and upon shielding her face from its rays, her eyes found the bright, moon-like structure of the Death Star in the sky. A dull headache had been throbbing in the back of her skull as soon as she'd woken this morning, and now, dread settled in her stomach. Never, in her 19 years of existence, had he ever dropped by unannounced. She hoped, dearly, that this wouldn't become a habit. She always needed time to prepare for his visits... to face him.

Her grandfather and his presence drained the life out of her every time he came, his proximity like a suffocating weight between her shoulder blades. She always felt spent, physically and emotionally, afterward. She supposed it was a side effect of how intolerable he was to be around.

Rey had been stuck on Naboo since she could remember, and to her utmost detriment, had spent so much of her childhood trying desperately to get her last living family member to love her, to want her, to train her in the kriffing Force, that she'd suffered dearly for it. Her life had been long bouts of loneliness, deep-seated anger, pain, and depression as she merely survived, alive but not really living, for some unknown purpose.

Food had been one thing she enjoyed, but now, knowing he was minutes away from invading her space once more, her appetite was lost and replaced with a fear that ate away at her insides.

Something was wrong. She could feel it. And she had no idea if that feeling came from what she sensed from him or from what little connection she had to the Force, untrained as she was.

Gathering up her plate, she turned on the lawn and made her way back to Convergence. The estate was old and beautiful — architecture similar to photos of buildings in Theed, Naboo's capital. It surprised her that this was her family's ancestral home. The same family that her grandfather came from. It was too beautiful to have housed such darkness.

Two of the Red Guard remained motionless — like statues — as she entered. They were poised at every exit, their force pikes out: a harsh reminder that she was never allowed to leave.

The first thing she saw upon entering was her handmaiden, Rose. The older girl was walking quickly towards her, a comlink in hand, her expression grave.

"Do you know why he's here?" asked Rey as she was shuffled her up the stairs and to her room. Rose had taken care of and grown up with her on the estate, and knew about her subtle Force connection to the Emperor. Rey could hazard a guess, by the look on her face, that she'd been alerted to his imminent presence by an officer.

"I don't know, but it's not good," she muttered, her eyes catching hers for a moment before she closed the door behind them. Her room was light and airy, all white bed sheets, marble flooring, and simple furnishings. It's not like she had many possessions to begin with, anyway. To the side of her bed was a large veranda with elegant double doors that she kept open all the time. She loved feeling Naboo's breeze flow through her room.

"The officer on the comlink sounded very stressed out," Rose's voice was hushed, "so whatever the reason is, we need to make you look presentable."

That meant all black.

She changed into a long, tailored dress that looked imposing enough as Rose helped pull her hair back into three buns. Satisfied, they went downstairs and waited. Her tutor, Cardé, was right behind them and looked shaken at the news that there would be a surprise visit from the Emperor. Rey didn't blame her. The track record for her tutors was not a good one, and she tried hard not to think of it.

The room was tense as they waited for him. His power was steadily growing closer until, finally, the hum of his ship could be heard overhead as he touched down.

Rey took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and focused, trying to lock all her turbulent feelings into the little box in the back of her mind. Palpatine was good at figuring out intentions and gleaning the thoughts of those around him, something she'd found out the hard way as a child. Over the years, she'd learned to compartmentalize when he was near, and she assumed it worked at some point since he never punished her over her traitorous thoughts or discontent.

When he entered, he was with his Red Guard. They had all dropped into kneels at his presence immediately, and Rey's head was bowed to the ground in deference.

Her heart hammered in her chest, but still she kept that box of emotions locked deep inside her. He could feel her nervousness, that she was sure of, but apart from that, nothing else.

He moved like a ghost, his steps silent across the ground.

"Leave us," his voice was frigid and a lump formed in her throat.

Whenever he was near, the temperature dropped, and today especially, it felt colder than usual. That couldn't be positive sign. She listened with trepidation to Rose and Cardé's footsteps retreat as they left her alone with her grandfather.

He said nothing for a few long moments.

"I can feel your fear," he murmured quietly, with a hint of reverence. She knew he fed off it. "It seems you know me well enough, granddaughter."

Her body contorted painfully, and she gasped as she was forced back, her face up and bared for him. She gritted her teeth, trying to hold back the whimper at how strong his Force hold was.

He came close to her, until she could see the bright, inhuman yellow of his eyes. He held her by the chin and moved her face to the side, as if... as if inspecting it.

She didn't understand.

He pulled back, seemingly satisfied, but kept her in the hold.

"You just turned nineteen," his voice was harsh in the silence of the room, "And I have decided that it's time for you to claim your political birthright."

If Rey could have, her mouth would have dropped. Her eyes widened in shock as her heart stuttered before beating a fiercer rhythm in her chest. He couldn't possibly mean that. This had to be a ploy of some sort. He would never give up his power, and certainly not to her. Lord Vader would sooner be chosen as his successor over her — a girl who had been locked away in the Mid Rim for her entire, miserable existence.

"Not to my Empire," her grandfather corrected sharply, baring his teeth in a snarl as he sensed her thoughts. She watched with mounting apprehension as his hands twitched, as if itching to punish her for the mere thought. She prayed to whatever deity existed, if there was one, that he didn't. Her headache was beginning to grow and lightning would make it far worse. "To Naboo. The previous senator has died a most... untimely death this morning, and you're next unless..."

He trailed off, wanting to keep her in suspense. She felt him release her face, and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Unless what, grandfather?" she said hoarsely, a note of desperation in her voice. Anything to get her out of this painful Force hold.

"Unless you do as I say and take up her vacant position," he announced, a contemptuous edge to his words, as if he didn't quite want that outcome either.

Her heart sank. This meant she would leave. Leave Convergence and this life, conduct politics, speak to actual people, debate, be under his influence at all times, take his orders, be subject to his punishments... leave, but she would leave

She wanted to ask why, wanted to ask him why he chose her, of all the more qualified people, to take this up. Why he would even bother

But she stifled those thoughts before he could sense them. He was pretending to give her a choice, even though they both knew she never had one. Not really. It was the same farce of a choice he presented her with numerous times: listen or die. And she, the adaptable person that she was, the person who chose the basic, human instinct of survival, would always do what was necessary. What he wanted of her.

She would agree.


Backstory will be revealed as we go. Thank you guys so much for the reviews and alerts! I can't wait for y'all to read our favorite dyad meeting ;) It was one of my favorite scenes to write.

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