Fandom: Star Wars
Prompt: fanfic50 #20 - Feel
Word Count: 930
Summary: Anakin discovers Darth Sidious's identity and confronts him. This is AU - and consider yourself warned if this pairing or slash in general squicks you! It's not terribly graphic, but... well, enough to earn an R rating.
Author's Notes: I'm trying to write at least one fic a month for fanfic50, but alas, I missed April by one day. I'm still counting this as my April fic.
It was a popular adage that the dark side of the Force was cold. Chancellor Palpatine was, in fact, quite warm at the moment. Anakin’s lightsaber hovered dangerously close -- so close that it singed the fine hair on his neck. It warmed his flesh, but the true warmth he felt was generated by Anakin’s anger. His fury penetrated the Force so intensely that the Sith Lord had to struggle to maintain his composure.
He didn’t struggle too much; he wanted the boy to sense his emotions. Palpatine allowed a smidgen of arousal to leak through the careful Force cloak he kept about himself. It was more than the general civilian lust that Anakin had felt emanating from him during their trysts – this time he wanted Anakin to feel him in the Force. He’d been waiting so long for this glorious moment!
He felt Anakin’s confusion. He preyed upon it, uttering soothing half-truths and loving sentiments until the boy’s anger waned enough for them to sit on the sofa, hands intertwined, Anakin’s lightsaber holstered. Palpatine tilted the young Jedi’s chin upward, forcing him to meet his gaze. Those beautiful blue eyes were now sparkling with tears.
Palpatine sighed. "Anakin, you know how I feel about you. That hasn’t changed. You can feel how much I love you, can’t you?"
Anakin didn’t answer.
"Can’t you?" prompted Palpatine gently. He caressed the boy’s cheek with a trembling hand.
Anakin covered the older man’s hand with his own, and turned his face slightly to plant a kiss on the palm. He drew a deep, shuddery breath and squeezed his eyes shut -- as if by doing so he could vanquish this horrible nightmare he found himself in.
Palpatine’s smile was sympathetic, mild, kind -- much like the way he presented himself to Anakin. He needed the boy to believe he was the same man he’d always been. That the fact that he was a Sith was irrelevant, simply a political alignment. "You still love me, don’t you?" he probed. He already knew the answer.
Anakin nodded. "Of course I do," he whispered hoarsely. "But I... I can’t. I shouldn’t. Not anymore."
The young Jedi’s tears flowed freely now. Palpatine cupped his face and flicked them away with his thumbs. "I’m so very sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, sweetheart. Please forgive me."
He leaned forward and tenderly kissed Anakin’s trembling lips. There was no malice, no evil, no hatred here. There wasn’t even the usual longing or lust -- just love. Deep, unwavering, unconditional love.
Suddenly, Anakin deepened the kiss with desperate ferocity. His hands couldn’t seem to remove the Chancellor’s robes fast enough. Delighted, though not altogether surprised, by his young lover’s response, Palpatine assisted him in the clothes-shedding process; given all the layers they each wore, this was a time-consuming affair. The time spent disrobing only served to fuel Anakin’s mounting lust. Palpatine knew it must be a heady feeling for him -- to connect with the older man not only in body, but in the Force. He had lowered all his shields, all his defenses, and opened himself completely to Anakin in every way possible. If the boy didn’t believe in his love after that, he never would.
The Force crackled with the energy of their fiery embrace. Anakin pushed his way inside him roughly. Grunting, growling, hands clenching his mottled arms hard enough to bruise, pounding against him unyieldingly, harshly, angrily. And Palpatine simply allowed him to. He knew that the boy was not only expressing his hurt and anger at Palpatine’s betrayal, but that he needed to feel powerful, in control, in possession of the man he thought he knew so well.
Afterwards, breathless and sated, Anakin collapsed on Palpatine’s chest just as he’d always done. Palpatine’s arms encircled him just as they’d always done. The tears had dried, and Anakin’s face relaxed into a dazed, content expression.
Palpatine squeezed him and chuckled. "Feeling better?"
"Mmmhmmm," Anakin murmured against his skin. He wriggled upwards to nestle his face against the older man’s neck. "Tired. I’ll think ‘bout all this later."
Palpatine retrieved one of his discarded robes off the floor and draped it over his sleepy lover. They would discuss their future after he woke from his slumber. The Chancellor was confident Anakin would not turn against him -- Anakin was, after all, fiercely loyal to the people he loved, above his loyalty even to the Jedi Order.
The young Jedi’s breathing soon became heavy with sleep. How trusting he was, to allow himself to be so vulnerable to a Sith Lord…a Sith Lord who knew Anakin had the power to destroy him. Yet this Sith merely stroked his hair and watched him sleep, his mind already at work recalculating the details of a master plan gone awry.
Anakin had not been meant to discover his true identity this early. Palpatine had slipped, and it troubled him greatly. Even more troublesome was the fact that Anakin had felt his love for him not as a devious ploy on Palpatine’s part to earn his trust, but as a true echo in the Force of the love that swelled in him for the young Jedi. That, too, had not been part of the plan.
And now he yearned to slip into blissful, post-orgasmic sleep with Anakin. He could not allow himself the pleasure this time; he’d already taken far too many liberties. He could not permit his feelings for this boy to continue to cloud his mind and spoil his plans, for love was a luxury he could not afford.