Chapter Text
52BBY
Twin suns are setting. Women’s waves are consumed by the curved shadow of her hovel. Their arms weaken and fall, one by one, the sound of brushing fabric imperceptible in the heat’s buzz. Palpatine lets the sweet wrongness in the Force roll down his arms, warm like fresh blood. Finally, finally the balance is shifting his way.
Little whines interrupt the flash of the fierce, white-hot pleasure of ownership. The boy is crying a little at the pain as Palpatine clutches his wrist, tightly, feverishly, pulling him into his robes. His mother is silent. He strides long, breathing the warm air shallowly. He longs for the metal tang of Coruscant’s manufactured air.
For the boy’s part, he doesn’t see the momentary twist in the expression on the usually benevolent old man’s face as he stumbles along. It’s sudden, like a heaving mass of termites on the underside of a log.
The woman does. She’s been seeing it on the faces of men her whole life. She considers falling to her knees, but instead, still walking, she clasps her hands, painfully, sending up a silent prayer. To the Gods of Rain, to the Force, whoever will fucking listen. It tears out of her, as she tries to quash the desperation.
She know’s it’s over, for her. But please let her son survive this. Twin suns set, over the ridge. The man waves a black-robed arm, beckoning her up the metal ramp. She swallows, just once. And then she unclasps her hands, and follows her son into the ship.
please, i’ve been on my knees, change the prophecy