"It is not my way. Freedom means nothing, power means nothing if you wrap yourself in chains of your own making – in whatever betrayals you inherited."

"My master was a Sith like Plagueis. I died because I refuse to be the same."

The fight leaves her as her breath rattles out of her chest. 

"That was you I heard, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"I warned you that at times I'm little more than a voice; I would have struck him down for harming you, if I could."

It doesn't square in her head – Vader is knowledgable, important. How can she not be powerful? 

"...Why?" she asks, and at Vader's understanding look the floodgates burst. "Why do you care – why doesn't he care – I didn't hate him, this entire thing started because I didn't hate him, I would've worked towards his goals, he didn't need to – why does he want me to hate him?" Her voice breaks. "Why don't you want me to hate you, if that's what strength in the dark side requires?"

There's a gentle pressure over her mouth, a quiet 'hush' bringing a pause to the tirade. The image of her hand rises to cup Palpatine's cheek, and her sincerity presses in through the Force. "Because he's blind, and he can see no other way than the way he was raised, no other path than the one he was set on by those whose memories have been lost to the dusts of time. He's blind, because he cannot see your true worth."

Palpatine blinks, takes in a shuddering breath – and tries to surge forward, to grab Vader's hair, to brush the ghost's mouth with her own, as a strange and powerful emotion slams through her.

Vader lets her for the briefest of moments – then Palpatine finds herself on her back, pinned with Vader above her, the Force dark and heavy and wrapping around her body like a vice –

It's nothing like when Plagueis did this, some distant part of her notes. (The beautiful woman she's been obsessed with looming over her helps; that she technically started it helps more; something about Vader's presence, about how the Force wraps around her, helps even more.) She can't wriggle; she makes a frustrated noise instead.

"If this is something you want from me... I will be the one in control – and I do not want you to agree to that lightly, not until you understand what I mean; not until you've made your choice about your future." The vice-like grasp releases her.

Palpatine sits up slowly. "My future – ?"

"Plagueis is my enemy. You call him Master."

Palpatine's stomach drops. "I have to choose – ?" She hates him this shouldn't be a contest – but she needs him, he's the only one she can rely on – she needs him to teach her to use the Force, to stand on her own – she'd thought Vader would approve but Palpatine's apparently a fool –

"I need a teacher," she says, hating the way her voice cracks.

"Plagueis is not the only Sith Lord."

She wavers, then: "What – what would be the difference, between the paths?" She doesn't really know she can trust Vader, and trust is for small children and simpletons anyways, but...

Vader pauses for a long moment.

"Under Plagueis... You would grow powerful, true, perhaps far more powerful than I could ever make you. You would remake the galaxy in your own image, and in time he will die as your father did, and his name will be forgotten as yours lives on in infamy – you will be the greatest of Sith Lords... Until you die as your father and your Master did."

"The path through me is cloudier; I cannot see myself. But I will teach you, anything and everything you might need, and the day you surpass me will be my proudest day. I do not know yet what that future will look like, but... I want to reach it with you."

"Plagueis will teach you power; I will do everything in my own power to teach you to flourish."

Vader's words – her prophecy, because that must be what this is, it rings so true – Vader's words hit Palpatine like a blow to the chest. She takes a deep breath through it, tries to marshal the thoughts her brain is telling her area important.

"...People need to have a place in society. A purpose. One that fits for them, but society – it isn't giving them that. It gives the unworthy power, and suppresses the weak. It makes the rich richer, and leaves the poor to starve. And no one knows how to fix it, what they want or what's best for them, so they make choices that just make everything worse, and they hurt each other. They're like... They're animals, trying to climb out of a gorge." She shivers at remembered cold. "They'll pull each other down, at the cost of climbing out. So they need someone strong, someone smart, someone who'll always do the right thing, to order society correctly. To tell them what to do." To remake things in her own image, she supposes.

"...That isn't... How I would describe things. Not how I would describe everyone, at least."

"...Plagueis agreed with me. He told me the Sith are that person – even when I thought..."

"I thought he was just Magister Damask. I thought – I thought he was smart and clever and he knew what he was doing, and he agreed, and he opposed my father politically and he wanted trade and prosperity for the whole galaxy – "

"He told me I could be that guiding hand. That I didn't have to sit back and just leak my father's scandals and hope someone else fixes things, that I could fix things, that I could be that person."

"He told me I can be a Sith and I can be powerful and I can lead the galaxy at his right hand, and he lied. He isn't interested in trade, he isn't interested in sharing power, he doesn't care about me." 

"I thought he understood, I knew there was something – I knew he didn't – I knew society would disapprove of him, my family disapproved of him, but society's morals are shit anyways and it was flattering, the way he was interested in me, and anyways it wasn't a big trade for power, for things being right, everyone has flaws and that's what teachers always want anyways, what anyone wants from someone weaker. But he was lying and he didn't even care, he just wanted to manipulate me, he wanted to get me dependent on him then humiliate me so I'd be a better Sith, and he said it was good for me and that if I survived I'd be grateful."

"He said if I died, then it'd just prove that I'd always been worthless anyways. That I wasn't able to handle power, that I couldn't draw on the Force well enough, and if I'm weak I might as well be dead."

"But I don't know what I'm doing."

"Maybe I'm wrong and everyone else is content and in their place and this is how the galaxy is meant to be, but - but - "

"I don't know where I fit."

"And how am I supposed to know what future I want, what flourishing would look like, if I don't even know where I'm supposed to be now?"

Something warm and heavy wraps around her.

"Your place in the world... That's not something anyone can give you. No one knows you, not truly, not the way you know yourself. And the Jedi claim the Force will guide those who open themselves to it – will work through them and bring them to their place in the world – but..."

"I don't think even the Force can decide that for us. It's something you'll need to find for yourself – but my job as your teacher i would be to help you. Not to lead you, but to give you the tools you need – and it's okay if you discover that place is 'under my control;' you don't need to be powerful to be worthy, and I will never mock you for it. But it's also okay if that place is somewhere far from me, surpassing me."

"Isn't the Force everything? Isn't it all powerful? How can it not – ?"

"The Force is in everything, but it isn't everything – it is the connections between everything. It is the bond between us and our fellow people, us and the world we inhabit – our present, our past, our future. It connects you to those you've never met and never will – but it connects you most strongly to those closest to you."

"Something told you that both I and Plagueis are important, didn't it?"

Slow nod. "The Force. That's – that's how I knew."