Mine
Author's Note: I did think about making this one-shot a bunch of short scenes between Anakin and Palpatine, because it is so much fun to explore how Palpatine screwed with Anakin's head and groomed him, but… I thought that maybe it would be nice for this particular one-shot to delve into not only how Palpatine groomed Anakin, but also, how the Jedi's own actions contributed to it, mainly through Deception.
Also, as another note, I do not consider the CW to be fully canon. The Deception arc, as it was shown in there, makes no sense to me, so I've taken the liberty to rewrite the entire arc in a far more (I hope) realistic and canon-compliant way. But I don't think this version happened in canon, either, because Anakin trusted Obi-Wan way too much in ROTS for him to have actually faked his death. This is more of a… "what if Obi-Wan did really fake his death?" than anything else. :)
Basically, this is Deception from Palpatine's POV, focusing on how he used it to his advantage to get Anakin on his side.
If a warning is needed… well warnings for grooming and manipulation of someone who is grieving as well as emotional abuse of said individual by faking a death of a close friend. I should probably add creepy possessiveness. Palpatine and the Jedi are equally guilty here. Anakin is the only innocent.
PS. This was a gift request by an anonymous person. I'm not sure you'll ever see this, but I hope you do, and I hope that you enjoy it! ^-^
~ Amina Gila
The funeral is held at the Jedi Temple the same evening that the body is returned to Coruscant. Palpatine heard the news from Yoda and Windu – the duo had come to the Senate to see him, letting him know that Kenobi had been killed by a rogue group of Mandalorians. As per protocol, Duchess Satine of Mandalore had been informed and had come to Coruscant to clear up the misunderstandings as well as attend the funeral.
The whole thing seemed so convenient, so… wrong. It doesn't seem possible that Kenobi could have died so suddenly and not by Palpatine's orders. He sensed something amiss, and his senses were confirmed at the funeral.
The grief in the air is overwhelming, stifling, and all too keenly, he can feel Anakin's pain rolling through their bond; the boy isn't shielding it, since he doesn't even realize it's there. His Padawan is at his side, head bowed, expression blank and dull, pain etched into her delicate features. But Palpatine's focus is on Anakin… as always.
Anakin is a wreck, and even from here, even though Palpatine hadn't spoken to him, his mind is racing as he calculates how to best turn this to his advantage.
The Jedi Council is present as well, at least those who are on Coruscant, and what Palpatine finds strangest of all is the strange impassiveness that they show, not even a shred of pain or grief lingering around them in the Force. That is not true for the others. Kenobi had been well-respected, well-liked, and there are many who mourn him, even his own men. Commander Cody of the 212th is here, standing in the background, emotions a chaotic storm of discomfort and grief. He does not feel as though he belongs, but he still wished to come, to pay his respects to the Jedi who had led him.
The truth dawns on Palpatine all at once, and he might have laughed if he wasn't so very good at hiding his feelings. His expression does not twitch, but his amusement lingers.
This whole thing… it's a farce. It's a fake. Kenobi is not dead.
Undoubtedly, this has to do with the assassination threats towards him which are being whispered about. Palpatine had tasked the Jedi to deal with it, brushing off their concerns and requests to give him a Jedi protector. He knew it would make them act, but this… this is not something he would ever have suspected. Ironic, really, how they would do this to one of their own, to Anakin, who they call their precious Chosen One.
The atmosphere is solemn as the funeral ends, those present taking their leave and going their own separate ways, some lingering to exchange quiet words.
And Palpatine makes his way to Anakin's side, where he still stands frozen, staring blankly at the floor in front of him where Kenobi's alleged body had been lowered only minutes prior. The blue of his eyes is a washed out gray, a wild agony bathing him in the Force. Palpatine drinks it in, lets that pain fill him with a delicious power even has he touches the young man's shoulder.
"Anakin," he says quietly.
The boy starts, sharply, head jerking up. His eyes widen when he sees who it is, and in a flash, his expression is closed off, composed, as if he realized how much emotion he was showing in the Jedi Temple, among those who preach there is no emotion.
Oh, how Palpatine loves how deeply this boy feels. So much passion in him. So much anger and pain. I will give you a better life, he purrs silently, as he pastes on an expression of sympathy and regret. I will give you what the Jedi will not: a place where you belong.
"Your Excellency," Anakin replies, dipping his head in a bow.
"I heard the news," he murmurs. "I am so sorry for your loss. I know Master Kenobi meant a great deal to you."
He sees the way the light catches on a sheen of unshed tears, but Anakin swallows them down, bobbing his head. "I – thank you, sir."
"Perhaps you could stop over?" he suggests. "I should like to hear from you what has happened."
"Of course," Anakin agrees dully. He twitches, glancing back at his Padawan, as though remembering her presence. "Let me get my Padawan settled first. Is that –" He cuts the question off awkwardly, fumbling for words that will not come.
"Take your time," Palpatine tells him, waving it off. "I will await you."
He leaves after that, going back to his apartment and waiting for his future apprentice to come to him. Of course, the boy comes, arriving barely fifteen minutes after Palpatine himself did. He is so swift and prompt, everything that Palpatine wants in an apprentice. This boy is perfect.
"Tell me what happened," he prompts once they have settled in the sitting room, he on one side of the couch, and Anakin on the other.
The boy is completely still, almost lifeless, his eyes dead and empty, and it is such a stark contrast from the way he always radiates energy and life. He's ever so still like this. It is ironic how the Jedi have been the ones to bring him to this level, to break him so utterly. Not even Dooku, no matter how much the Count has put Anakin through, has been able to do this to him.
The opportunity is one that Palpatine cannot pass up. At all. How could he when the Jedi have handed him his future apprentice on a gold platter?
Kenobi will yet regret the day he did this… but by then, it will be too late.
If his suspicions are right, if Kenobi has really staged his death, then Palpatine will have to make sure he gets back alive. Anakin will never believe his friend capable of such a massive, gut-wrenching deceit unless he sees him again with his own eyes. For all that Palpatine wants Kenobi dead, this – this is even better.
"We were on Orondia," Anakin reports dully. He keeps his head lowered, not meeting Palpatine's eyes – he rarely does, a residue from his childhood where meeting a superior's eyes could lead to harsh punishment. The boy explained it once, when Palpatine asked out of curiosity. "We were checking out a report that Separatist forces were trying to seize the fuel reserves there."
Palpatine nearly raises an eyebrow at that. Orondia? He's heard nothing of this alleged incursion. Probably false intel, meant to set up the staged death.
"We were attacked by Mandalorians there," Anakin continues shakily, "Not Death Watch, I don't think. Some other group. We split up to track them down and root them out. I – I do not know how it happened, but one moment, I was fighting off one of them, and the next…" His voice breaks, and he inhales shakily, blinking away tears. "It – it all happened so fast."
His grief is potent, sharp, alluring. So much passion, Palpatine thinks. He's perfect.
He shifts closer to Anakin, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "You need not hide your emotions with me," he assures him. "The Jedi do not understand how it makes you unique. Your pain is natural. You have lost someone who was close to you."
Maybe that's all he needs – permission – before he shatters entirely, the Force twisting around him from the depths of his agony. His choked sobs are mostly quiet, and he feels almost ashamed to be letting them loose, but Palpatine only tightens his hand, giving Anakin what he needs: support. It is delightful, truly, how the Jedi have given him everything he has ever wanted. The parts of his boy that have been broken, that are now breaking, they are parts that will never heal. It is a wound, one so deep and gutting that it will linger and fester.
The tears make him uncomfortable though, because he is not used to dealing with things of that nature. Emotions are useless to him. He does not feel them the way others do; he is above them, but intellectually, he can understand them. Perhaps it is that he has never had anyone close to him who he could grieve or mourn. But this is a game he is used to playing, and the shallow comfort he offers to Anakin is clearly enough.
It takes the boy a few minutes to bring himself back under control, and he sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I apologize, Your Excellency," he croaks, swallowing. "I should have better control. It is something – I have been told that repeatedly."
"Your feelings are natural," Palpatine replies sternly. "Do not apologize to me for having them. Your secrets are always safe with me, my boy. You know I care for you."
"And I am grateful," he promises, as if there was ever a doubt.
Palpatine can feel that devotion, can feel the way his boy clings to their relationship, ready and eager for the smallest displays of affection. He is desperate, truly, to be cared about. It is perhaps natural for someone of his background, but there is a part of Palpatine that relishes in it, in watching how Anakin so eagerly absorbs his words and gestures the way an abused puppy might react to being petted by a kind stranger. It's amusing, really.
Mine, he purrs. You are mine. Mine to care for. Mine to train.
"When I spoke with Masters Yoda and Windu, they indicated that you were to protect me until this alleged plot against me has been dealt with," Palpatine remarks, smoothly changing the topic. His fingers itch to dig further into the boy's shoulder, to claim him. The vicious possessiveness surges, and he lets it come, lets it wash over him. There is only one way for their story to end: with Anakin kneeling at his feet.
"They mentioned it to me," Anakin affirms, voice surprisingly steady despite his breakdown. His face is tearstained, but he's calmer in the Force now. More depressed maybe. More subdued. There's an aching longing whispering around him, and it tastes like Nubian wild honey.
"I contacted Captain Rex and let him know that he and the boys were to join your security to keep you safe," he adds.
"Thorough to the end," Palpatine states with an amused smile. "I appreciate your concern, my boy, even if I do not believe there to be any real danger."
"Where your safety is concerned, Chancellor, we can never be too careful," he asserts firmly.
Oh, the irony of this.
But he will need to check in with Dooku, let him know that should Kenobi show his face or sniff around their little operation, he is to be allowed through. The moment when Anakin realizes the betrayal will be sweet revenge. It is only a matter of time before he turns against those who are seeking to keep him beneath their boots. The Jedi will never see it coming.
"With your involvement, I trust this matter will be concluded speedily," Palpatine praises, watching as Anakin ducks his head at the praise, a glimmer of something pleased disrupting his otherwise darkened aura.
His boy's reactions never cease to thrill him. He could play with him for hours, and Anakin would never even realize it. Truly, this is far too easy. When the game is over, when the Jedi have been annihilated, he will need to be sure to thank them for giving him such a precious gift. If not for them, he could never have gotten the key to their downfall.
**w**
It's the following evening when Anakin sends him a message, letting him know that the Jedi have tracked down the Mandalorians, and he and his Padawan have been dispatched to bring them in. It arouses his curiosity, making him wonder what the Jedi are after. What is your game plan? he muses, staring at the Temple in the distance. What are you planning?
In the morning, Anakin comes to him in person to report that they only successfully captured one of the Mandalorians, a man by the name of Rako Hardeen.
Anakin's face is pale, much paler than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes betray his exhaustion and grief. "It was him," he states firmly, voice wavering for a moment before it hardens, his anger slowly rising, burning from the constant ember to a glowing flame. "He is the one who made the kill shot."
"Are you certain?" Palpatine raises an eyebrow, studying the boy from his desk.
Anakin's hands clench – he's vibrating with tension, with anger, with wild, uncontrolled grief. He looks as if he wants nothing more than to move, than to do anything other than stand there. "I am certain," he answers, bitterness and fury in his blue eyes.
How beautiful they would be if they were yellow.
"He is in custody then?" The question is innocent enough, but Palpatine asks it just so, knowing that the words and tone will be enough to provoke this violent, powerful boy into exploding. There is only so long he can keep his passions contained, after all.
"Unfortunately."
There is so much hate in that one word that Palpatine nearly smiles.
Instead, he leans forwards, putting on his best sympathetic face. "I admire your restraint," he commends. "I am certain you would have liked nothing more than to kill him… just as you did those who took your mother from you."
Anakin's expression twists, anger and pain warring for dominance, and Palpatine watches, fascinated. How complex his boy is. How beautiful and powerful.
"If I could have," he replies, nearly snarling, "I would have ripped him apart with my bare hands." It reminds Palpatine of a rabid dog, snapping and growling at anyone who comes close.
"But that is not what – what Obi-Wan would have wanted." His voice lowers, and he's almost whispering. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, and he swallows, hard.
Palpatine suppresses the rising antagonism he feels at the longing and affection loaded in the name. He hates Kenobi with a passion – the man is a thorn who is probably the only one capable of keeping his boy from him. But he will get his chance in due time. Of course, Anakin cares for Kenobi. His affections will be tested, preferably even shattered, when he learns the truth. But alas, Anakin is loyal to a fault. Undoubtedly, he will swallow his betrayal and keep his face blank, hiding his feelings from the Jedi.
But it will linger, and the rift will never heal. Not only does Palpatine highly doubt Kenobi's ability – and desire – to have a serious conversation with Anakin about their messy relationship, but also, he will do whatever he must to rip them apart. Kenobi is the only one who poses a risk to him, to his plans for his boy, his apprentice. Kenobi is the only one who is not just another pawn or disposable player.
"I think," Palpatine says delicately, unable to resist the desire to take a jab at Kenobi, "That he does not understand the depths of your feelings for him. You care so much, and he does – did – not appreciate that."
They are so complicated, those two, and Palpatine will keep them apart, come hell or high water. Their relationship has never been easy, regardless of Palpatine's meddling. They are so different, yet so similar. Fire and water. Two unstoppable forces of nature. He might find it more interesting to study them if he didn't hate their relationship so much.
Anakin blinks, and his eyes are wet. "He is – was a Jedi. He only ever did what he thought best."
Another time, Palpatine would have continued the conversation, continued to poke and prod at that, if only to revel in the anger and resentment which Anakin harbors against his old master. But it's different today. The boy believes Kenobi to be dead, and Palpatine knows how quickly his grief could make him lash out, even at him. There is no need to strain their relationship just for him to take a jab at Kenobi.
"Take care of yourself," Palpatine says, instead of one of the dozens of snide comments he could make about Kenobi. "I know none of this is easy for you."
"I will not fail you. You will not come to harm."
That is not what Palpatine meant, but he lets it pass, just this once. His boy isn't ready for any more mind games right now; he's more likely to break than he is to yield.
**w**
It's a few days after Palpatine is informed, by Anakin, of course, that Hardeen escaped in a prison break along with a couple other criminals, when he receives another report that the bounty on the fugitives has been removed. So, it is as he expected then. Kenobi must be Hardeen. Impersonating the man who allegedly killed him. It's delightfully ironic, and he would laugh, if Anakin wasn't standing right here, expression twisted with a mixture of fury and pain.
"Why are you removing the bounty on the three fugitives?" Palpatine requests, doing his best to convey polite curiosity.
"If they're free to move, they could lead us back to Eval's operation," Windu answers. Of course. Careful, as always, not to divulge too much. Force forbid that Palpatine be aware of how the Jedi mean to "protect" him from the assassination attempt.
"Very well. Keep me apprised," he says, ending the transmission, and turning all of his focus onto Anakin. Now is a very good time to prod further, to poke at weaknesses and dig in deeper. You can only trust me, he wants to whisper, and he will, but just not in words. "You look troubled, Anakin," he notes, infusing his words with as much concern as he can without it seemed feigned.
Anakin blinks, swallows, a myriad of emotions playing across his features. "How can they expect me to just sit here and do nothing with Obi-Wan's murderer on the loose?" There is a plaintive note to the words, the desperation of someone who is being drowned by an ocean of grief. And even now, the Force is stained with it. It would be impossible to be anywhere within Anakin's vicinity and not feel the currents of pain and grief and anger that are whirling around him. Truly, Palpatine does not know what the Jedi were thinking, to do something so callously cruel to someone who should be treated as a prized possession.
"It is possible that they do not trust you to control your feelings," Palpatine suggests, feeling a rare sense of delight at the fury that twists Anakin's features at the words. It is true, of course, that the Jedi often criticize Anakin for his emotional nature. They don't see it as it is: a fundamental aspect of his being. Trying to stamp it out will never succeed; it will only push Anakin away from them. As it is doing right now.
Anakin shifts, stalking to the window. He's radiating bitterness into the Force. Bitterness and grief. "Hardeen killed my master, my best friend!" His voice breaks on the words, and he pauses, sucking in a shaky breath. Palpatine does not need to see his face to know that it's openly conflicted as he wars with himself, trying to reign in his pain and hide it, unwilling to break down in front of someone. At the end of the day, Anakin has been taught by the Jedi to see his emotions as a weakness, no matter how much he is influenced by them.
And yet, despite it all, he shows an amazing control of himself, something that Palpatine almost admires – for he cannot imagine feeling anything so strongly and deeply while still remaining level-headed. The Jedi do not recognize that about him; they do not see Anakin's strengths the way Palpatine does.
"He's escaping with Cad Bane and Moralo Eval," Anakin continues, voice vibrating with anger. Or pain. Or even both. The Force is wild around him, the Dark Side nipping at his heels. His resistance to it would be admirable if Palpatine didn't want to take apart Anakin's control piece by piece until all he can do is surrender. "I do not understand why the Jedi Council is refusing to act on this matter. Those criminals are dangerous!"
Palpatine feels a vague sense of pity at that. If Anakin was not so emotionally invested, he would have put it together on his own. As it is, he cannot imagine Kenobi being capable of such a heinous betrayal, so he is unable to see his death as anything but real. He turns over in his mind how to address this, wondering if he should try to prod Anakin in the right direction or let him find out on his own. The second is more unpredictable, but it could also be much… worse.
Hm. The second perhaps. He is feeling a bit risky right now. He wants to play with fire. Sitting back and watching everything unfold on his own will satisfy him just fine. In the end, as the smoke settles, he will be the shoulder Anakin chooses to cry on.
So, he makes a show of looking down at his datapad, tapping on it to look at the last report he received from Commander Fox. An anonymous tip was called in on Nal Hutta, and – oh yes, this will be perfect.
"I have it from a reliable source that the fugitives were last headed towards Nal Hutta," he remarks slyly, watching as Anakin turns towards him sharply, hanging on his every word. "You cannot deny your feelings, Anakin. They are what make you special." He infuses his words with every bit of the carefully perfected affection and confidence that Anakin has come to cherish hearing, and he even adds a small smile to complete the deal. "If you believe you can stop this plot against me, I trust you."
Anakin's mandate is to protect him from the assassination attempt, and Palpatine knows that the boy – his boy – will do whatever he must to fulfill that mandate. He will go, and he will track down the criminals because he feels it's the right thing to do. And really, it is. It is the role of the Jedi to stop crime. Since Anakin does not know what the Council has planned, he has no way of knowing that staying on Coruscant is the right decision.
He will go, and he will come face-to-face with the truth that the man he long respected and loved has betrayed him in the cruelest way possible.
Could it possibly be more perfect?
Thank you, Chancellor. You won't regret this." There's a hint of fierceness in the words, a promise to protect someone else he cares for, and Palpatine offers the boy a fond smile.
"No, I won't."
And he doesn't.
**w**
Palpatine does not see Anakin again in person until right before he is to leave for Naboo to attend the Festival of Light celebration. The boy had left him a message, after his return from hunting the criminals, telling him that he had been injured and was recovering at the Temple. When Palpatine sees him again, he can easily see how much has changed. He can see that Anakin knows the truth. It's in his eyes, written into the slump of his shoulders, the misery and defeat etched into his features.
And Palpatine's keen eyes note that he's favoring his left side, moving as though it hurts him.
"I trust you are well?" Palpatine queries once they're in private.
"I am – recovering, Your Excellency," Anakin replies, bowing his head. Even looking at him, Palpatine can tell how chaotic and disordered his thoughts are. Dark circles under his eyes betray little to no rest, and he looks dead on his feet.
"You look tired," Palpatine notes carefully, probing, gauging his reaction.
He inhales, closing his eyes for a moment. "It has been trying," he answers quietly, and Palpatine nods to the seat next to him – they are waiting on the landing platform at the Senate building, for the rest of the Jedi to arrive. The clones who are on guard are standing a respectful distance away, giving them privacy.
"Tell me," he requests once the boy has seated himself, gingerly, gritting his teeth through the pain of the movement.
His left hand is trembling, and he tucks it into his robes to hide it. "I took Ahsoka and a squadron of clones to track them to Nal Hutta," he relates quietly. "We followed them back to Orondia from there when we – caught up with them. I had the port locked down, and I tracked their ship. We – cornered them." His voice is shaking, and it breaks marginally, as though he's about to shatter entirely, spiraling too much for Palpatine to put him back together.
Maybe this has been far more impactful than he ever thought possible.
But with a strength that the Jedi ought to admire, Anakin takes a deep breath, and his expression smooths out, becoming more calm and controlled again. He has always been very conscious of being in public, conscious of the audience and eyes watching him, even if some of those eyes belong to men he knows well – his clone captain, Rex, it was, is even here, but of course, Anakin will always try to appear strong in front of them.
"I separated Hardeen from the others, and we… fought." His hands curl into fists, and he stares down at the ground, stony-faced. "We fought," Anakin repeats, "And I thought it was too hard, somehow; he might be Mandalorian, but I am a Jedi."
Another time, Palpatine might have interrupted with a soothing, complimentary remark, but not now. Instead, he remains quiet, listening, being the comfort that the boy needs.
He pauses, hesitates, but keeps speaking. "It was all a lie. Obi-Wan – he – he's alive."
A fraction of a second passes before Palpatine realizes he needs to react with shock. "Are you certain? That is… Well, I am glad. I know his loss was hard on you."
Anakin's expression tightens further, if that was possible. "He's undercover," he says shortly, "As Hardeen. When we fought – well, I – I – there was a point when I could have hurt him grievously, and he… shoved me, in the nick of time. I – the blade… hit me." Almost reflexively, his hand ghosts over the left side of his abdomen, the place where the inflicted wound must be.
Ah, well that rather does explain it. Kenobi hurt him. Physically. Certainly, it was to defend himself, but that has only driven the betrayal in deeper, and Palpatine feels a ridiculous amount of smugness at that. Far too much, in fact, and he tamps it down, so he doesn't react in a way he doesn't mean to.
"I – my boy, it distresses me to hear that." He reaches out, touching Anakin's shoulder, pulling back when the boy flinches. "I would have thought he trusted you more."
Anakin closes his eyes, grief washing over him like a tidal wave. "Me too," he croaks. "Me too."
Before, Palpatine would have had to put a significant amount of effort into getting Anakin to lose his trust in the Jedi and Kenobi, both. But now? The Jedi have just handed him his future apprentice on a silver platter, and really, he's not going to reject that. Why should he? Even without his involvement, Anakin will never trust Kenobi the way he once did. That trust has been forever shattered, and Palpatine expects that Anakin will become even more reticent now, unwilling to be close with everyone – except perhaps him, Senator Amidala, and his Padawan.
And even then, it's only a matter of time before that could change.
In the past, Palpatine would have had to involve himself in careful, deliberate manipulations to show Anakin the true power of the Dark Side, but not anymore. He's cracking, and all Palpatine has to do now is reach out and offer him the power. He is terrified of loss, of failing, and even though he knows Kenobi is still alive, none of that can erase the immense trauma and pain that he endured, seeing his once master supposedly die in front of him.
Anakin might forgive, but he can never forget this pain, this gut-wrenching betrayal, this deception of massive proportions.
It is only a matter of time before he turns to Palpatine, to the one who has always been loyal to him, the one who has never deceived him or lied to him. It was Palpatine who comforted him while he mourned for the loss of Kenobi. It was Palpatine who offered him support and understanding while he grieved and when he realized the truth. Palpatine is the one who has been here for him.
Not Kenobi.
The Jedi misplayed his hand. He slipped up, made a monumental error in judgment. There are no takebacks, and moving forward will never be enough for him to fix what he broke. And that is for the best.
With Kenobi gone, no longer a concern, Palpatine can step in and fill the role Kenobi once held in Anakin's life. It will be Palpatine who becomes the mentor and master that Kenobi once was.
The downfall of the Jedi is now inevitable. It is simply a matter of time. And patience. And Palpatine has an abundance of both.
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