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Run For Cover (There Is None)

Summary:

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

Days ago, Luke was captured. He’s been at the Emperor’s feet, chained and blinded, since.

Notes:

A shorter one today! My car got broken into last night, window smashed, so guess I gotta deal with that now. They didn’t take anything but a cheap pair of sunglasses, but ugh it’s a time drain. And I’d had such high hopes for writing time this week…
Also idk how much this fits the prompt, but ajskladfjaksldjf I’ve tortured Luke, okay, that’s the real goal here. I even pulled out my torture book I read in September for reference (Why Torture Doesn’t Work by Shane O’Mara). Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Luke adjusted his position for the millionth time that hour with a clink of chains. At least he thought it had been an hour. It was extremely difficult to tell with the half-face mask blocking his vision.

“Uncomfortable, my pet?” A wrinkled hand reached down to stroke Luke’s hair. Luke breathed through his nose, trying to stay calm even while his entire body felt wound tight to the point where he was thisclose to trembling with tension. He would close his eyes, but, well. The hand vanished.

Luke’s hips and knees were sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long. His back ached, too.

Footsteps approached, loud and echoing. It must have been a grand chamber he was sitting in, but Luke couldn’t see it. He felt hot. He wanted to claw the mask off. If he tried, though, as he’d naively tried the first day to remove it with cautious hands, he would get electrocuted. Luke kept himself still.

The footsteps stopped, and there was a slight movement of air. “Your Majesty.” The voice was unfamiliar, but Luke could guess; some kind of Imperial brass. They sounded more self-assured than the sycophants that came and fell all over themselves trying to get Palpatine to grant them something; attention, power, a planet, a ship, an office.

“Tell me,” Palpatine said.

It was killing Luke to be stuck sitting here at all hours, not even able to see. He found himself swaying slightly, seeking sensation; but he didn’t dare do it outright.

“The Rebels are scrambling for counter-propaganda, Your Majesty. They don’t seem to know how to respond.”

There had been a photographer yesterday.

There had been a photographer yesterday, taking pictures of Luke blinded and chained to the Emperor’s throne, dressed in a mockery of a TIE-pilot’s uniform. Palpatine had informed Luke with glee in his voice that there was an embroidered patch reading SKYWALKER in bold black and white on his left breast, so that no one would be in doubt as to who it was. He’d poked Luke so he felt it.

There had been a photographer yesterday, ending his friends’ search for him in the worst way possible.

Luke sought the Force for stability, comfort, but all he felt was Palpatine’s oil-slick blackness clinging to him like motor oil, pungent and disgusting and overwhelming. Luke hadn’t seen real colors in days, but the color of that oil-slick turned a deep blue, pleased, and Palpatine patted his head once.

“Good,” Palpatine said. He chuckled “Very good.”

“What will our next message be, Majesty?”

“Hmm.” Palpatine tangled his fingers in Luke’s hair and pulled. Luke bent his head back with it, breathing ragged. As he moved, so did the mask laying heavy on his head, tilting and pressing against his face.

He wanted to kick, to scream, to shake all the excess energy coiled in his bones out and run. He’d been sitting in the same damned spot for days. Tears pooled in his eyes and dripped below the mask, which ended midway down his cheeks. The gentle feeling of tears rolling down his exposed skin froze Luke’s blood.

Palpatine untangled his fingers and wiped the tears off of Luke’s chin.

The oil-slick climbed into Luke’s ears, making him shiver involuntarily. Goosebumps raised on his arms.

There was nowhere to hide. Not in a corner, not even in his mind. Nowhere he could move to. He was trapped on this…platform, or wherever Palpatine’s throne was. Luke had no idea where he was, actually. He’d been blindfolded upon capture when his X-Wing went down, then there’d been a needle in his neck, then he woke up here with the mask on.

Luke knew he was gasping for air now, loud, stuttering breaths. His fists were clenched at his sides, nails digging half-moons into his palms. He couldn’t get himself to stop, to let go. He had to let go. He had to let go, or Palpatine would make him.

“I think,” Palpatine said thoughtfully, his voice distorted as if from underwater, “we should give them more to respond to. Send Vader to the Rebels’ last known location. Tell him no survivors.”

“No!” Luke shouted. All of his coiled energy burst into action and he shot painfully to his feet against the pull of the tether—

Electricity ripped apart his veins, and Luke knew no more.

Notes:

If you enjoyed, leave a comment! They really do make my day 💖
And look forward to Luke getting electrocuted more tomorrow!