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inkofthebrain · 11 months ago

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Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1113 Words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of yin, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

Previous Chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

Dune Masterlist

Nine———

Everyone in their right mind knows not to stop a charging bride so the guards didn’t even lift a finger as you marched towards the lush estate gardens.

Caladan has become less daunting the more time you spend there, you only wish it will be the same for the landscape of desert you have been sentenced too. Your thoughts consume you, racing past behind you eyes and gone before you were to process them, as your feet patter off path to a small clearing by the cliff side.

Your eyes gazed over the crashing waves against the resistance of the cliff side and fate came to mind; when does it not. You never really believed in it but you have come to the realization that with enough time and planning, anything could be orchestrated.

Your fate in particular seemed to have been thousands of years in the making, and while you have tried to fight against it similar to the angry waves beating the stone—-the tide will always succumb to the earth.

The salty air entered your nostrils with a swift inhale as you attempted to soothe your aching heart. The emotion was somewhere between grief and anger for both your father and your stolen fate.

You lifted your left hand and examined your ring before adjusting it slightly, there was no method to your movements, you just needed something physical to bring you out of your head.

And that is exactly what happened when you felt a hand brush your shoulder. You instantly whipped around to see who had caught you, but all you saw was Paul.

“We have a reception to attend, you know” His tone was rather playful, despite the fact you charged away before any words could be exchanged.

You tired back to the water before speaking, Paul following shortly to your side. The friendliness between the two of you was comfortable, You both kept each other within an arm's reach both physically and emotionally. A fine line seen all too often in these marriages.

“I’m Empress, aren’t I to do what I please?” You quip.

“If only it were that easy”

“If only”

A comforting silence fell between the two of you as you soaked in the view. Who knew the last time you would see such vast oceans. Maybe Paul did. You had no idea of knowing.

His gifts were quite alarming at first but a clear symptom of his spice agony. Drinking the water of life is a pain you have only had the horror of hearing about from your fathers truthsayer. It was a brutal ritual not even the Sardukar could endure.

The lives of so many others entering your mind, the multitudes of paths, the multitudes of potential. All while retaining your current wants and desires. The bile had heightened almost every part of him, his intelligence, his fears, and the crushing sensation of a will not of your own.

“Tell me about Arakkis?” You asked him

“It’s baren, and the heat follows you everywhere and—“

“Not a Definition, Paul. About your time there. I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”

You were terrified to be thrown into his world. Adjusting to a foreign culture is always strenuous but being implanted in one where your betrothed is their messiah? It was hard to tell if the people would accept you or reject your legitimacy as a bride to their mahdi.

His lips straightened into a tight line as he pondered where to start but like most things in the imperium, it was nipped in the bud before it would foster. You heard Delia’s stride approaching from behind.

“While I love to see the new Emperor and Empress basking in one another’s company, there are quite a few important people who are expecting the both of you very soon.” Her hands were clasped down at her waist as she attentively waited. You nod your head and let out a small hum before turning away from the view.

“I have another quick change, hm?” You question, Delia Humors your small remark and lets out a small laugh before nodding her head.

“I’ll see you there, husband.” The word felt like a dagger shooting through Paul. As you stepped away with Delia, Paul continued to ponder on what his life has succumbed to.

He had just married a woman he barely knew, all the while leaving the woman who brought him to be the person he is now behind in the dust. He hadn’t told you about Chani, yet somehow there was an unspoken agreement between you two that some things were to be left unsaid. This was a political marriage after all.

Chani despised him, he had risen above her after swearing he would be equal to her. Now he is her emperor, her new suppressor. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if the path he was blindly leading you down would leave you hating him as well. Maybe that’s how it was fated to be.

———

Delia had you re-pampered in all your imperial glory as you were thrown into a room of hungry politically driven wolves with Paul at your side.

After lists of warm wishes and congratulations, many of said wolves dove in for the kill. Presenting the two of you with ideas, requests, and comments on their states. Everyone was there, from planetary governors to heads of houses, all for the same greedy purpose; power.

Connections mean everything in this court, you are unlikely to get far without them. This is what you were taught from a very young age, both false and true connections. Double sided “friendship” and backhanded comments on current policies were all the rage as you and Paul were forced to parade yourselves around the large room.

Once you and Paul were able to seclude yourselves in a far corner you decided it was time for politics.

“We need a new truth-sayer, I cannot bear the thought of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam attempting to further stir my fathers corruption into our future.” You turned to face him, “she is all but fond of you”

Paul let out a short chuckle, “That I am very aware of. The Bene Gesserit are not my biggest supporters.”

You let out a small hum in response, “Your mother?”

Paul shook his head, “She is the Fremen’s, we mustn’t take her from them. Not after they have just gained their Dune back” With a nod of your head and the clasping of your hands, you direct your attention to the rest of the room. Trying to predict who wants to make a proposition next. Trying to predict where your future would take you.

———

Next chapter (coming soon...)

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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bit warm innit

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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GLUTTONY

[Lee (Bones and All) x Reader]

Warnings: Typical Bones and All things

Tags: No Maren (sorry bae ily) Mentions of religion/religious trauma, drugs & alcohol, no use of y/n, blue truck lives, future series, more tags will be added, briefly proofread

It was always nauseating, but you were thrown in such a frenzy that it was impossible to stop. A carving never to be quenched. You always believed you could change, maybe one day you will forgive yourself.

Hope has always been a sticky game. You, especially, used it to lure your victims. A guy at a bar grabbing your ass a few times before slipping something into your drink “hoping” to get lucky? You are observant. You always had to be. You knew his intentions before he could even begin to initiate the sick action.

You just so happened to have been dumped in a small town In the middle of nowhere northwest by a ride you managed to pick up in North Cali. There was talk of some animal killing a few of the locals and their pets. A perfect cover.

You let him take you home, pretending to be drunk off your ass, and then you pounced on him. Not even 10 feet into the house. You had struck him down with a lamp and started eating.

His flesh was warm and blood entered your mouth in a rush as you ripped it from his body, at this point the blood loss and pain had rendered him unconscious. It felt heavenly, it felt blasphemous.

As you stand above the man, half eaten and mauled, you turn your gaze to the cross above the door. There was no god. You learnt this early on.

No matter how often your mother tried to bash it into your head it would not click. You were an odd child born out of wedlock in a small religious town. You had always kept to yourself. Whether that was of your own doing or your mothers was something you had yet to figure out.

Your mother knew what you were, you had a sister. Your father had gotten to her and your mother had gotten to him.

The rest of your adolescence was spent in rebellion, but the night before your 18th birthday your mother quickly packed up a few things, took you up north for a “trip” and before you even woke up in the mildew smelling motel; she was gone.

Months later, here you were, walking along the interstate until you passed an abandoned barn and a familiar smell filled your nostrils. What you had thought was just your fathers cologne was here, in the middle of nowhere, emanating from a barn.

Your curiosity and better judgment bashed against one another as your legs gained a mind of their own and you crept closer, taking deep breaths and trying to pinpoint the source. Every nerve in your body was on fire when a figure emerged from behind the rickety wood.

“He's a few yards back if you wanna…” He looked to be at least a head taller than you and scrawny. With what was illuminated in the moonlight you were able to see the dirty ripped jeans he had on, or at least what was left of them, and a slight tinge of red in his hair that matched the red staining his skin.

“Were you..” you trailed off.

“I smelt you a few yards before you walked up” He says bluntly before beginning to walk away.

“I didn’t know I could do that” you said quietly, eyes following the strange man.

“Yeah well, ya can. He’s back there if you want a bite. I’m heading out of here” He says while walking, his strides were long but staggered due to his slight stumbling in the dark brush.

Before you could stop yourself you were jogging to catch up to him, staying a few feet back. You began to look around at your surroundings, the trees, the light from the moon shining through the overcast. Soon your body collided with a warm figure.

“Sorry” you said before taking a step back, he turned to face you, “it’s just, I ran out of money a few days ago and I’ve been walking trying to catch a ride since”

“So you want to ride with me?” He asks mockingly and you nod your head.

“I just need to get to the next town” You say, kicking some of the dirt below your feet, “Please?”

“What do I get out of it, huh?” He asks. You look up to meet his eyes before turning on your heels and walking away.

“Forget it, I knew it was a stupid idea” you grumbled as the sound of dried leaves crunched below your feet. It’s early fall and you need to find a town soon. Before the nights started getting too cold. Maybe you could wait for him to leave and hole up in the barn.

“I’m lee.” It was then you really noticed his voice. He sounded to be about your age but he had a sultry rasp that poked out when he spoke in a low tone. You stop in your tracks for a beat and say your name before walking on.

“I’m not an asshole you know,” he shouts out, “I just don’t meet many others”

You turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. The entire conversation seems redundant yet he keeps dragging it on.

“Ok”

“Ok.” He responded before clapping his hands together and taking a breath, he had taken a few strides closer. “I’ll give you a ride into town, I’ll get you a bite to eat—actual food. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I haven't,” you retorted. His demeanor was odd, he had an awkward posture and it was difficult to read his tone, much less his facial expressions in the dark.

“My car is this way.” He said before spitting a glob of blood onto the floor and turning away.

After watching him walk a few feet ahead you followed behind, keeping your eyes on his figure. Soon enough a truck entered your field of vision and as the two of you approached closer you could make out its tattered blue paint job.

Lee opened the door before grabbing a bag that was sitting in the cab and threw it in the truck bed before climbing in. He motioned for you to hurry up, and you did.

Once you made your way around and into the car you noted the smell of cigarettes and the tattered leather seats. The smell must be sticking to the leather.

“You’re a quiet one, aren't ya” he said as he started the car.

“I just don’t have anything to say” you shrugged your shoulders, looking ahead at the dark road.

“I don’t believe that” And with that we were on our way.

———

Next chapter (coming soon…)

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#lee bones and all x you #lee bones and all x reader #lee x reader #bones and all #bones & all #lee bones and all #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamalabingbong #timothee x reader #bones and all fanfic

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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Imperial

[Paul Atreides x Reader] 1179 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: ITS HERE! Sadly, there will be longer times between updates. But to mitigate that I have decided that shorter chapters and for frequent chapters will do better for my writing stamina

Previous chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

Dune Masterlist

Eight———

The great hall is exceptionally expansive, its high ceilings supported by massive wooden beams. The room is filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, the women in flowing gowns and the men in tailored suits. The windows are bedecked with heavy velvet drapes, though right now they're left open to let in the soft golden light of the afternoon sun.

At the far end of the hall, you see the altar where the officiant stands, poised and expectant. Before him stands Paul, his figure tall and commanding, a vision in his ceremonial attire.

The atmosphere in the room is electric, charged with excitement and anticipation, yet you can’t help but feel anything other than fear. The guests are silent, their eyes fixed on you as you make way down the aisle. The music swells softly, its notes a perfect accompaniment to the scene unfolding before you.

Countless factions and political powerhouses are in attendance, all sat in organized sections waiting to bear witness. The Bene Gesserit stand in the shadows, Irulan eyes sticking out behind her veil. You give her a curt nod. Each step is carefully calculated and filled with poise. You carry a small smile on your face as you elegantly approach the altar. A facade of power.

As you make your way to stand in front of Paul, your heart is pounding in your chest. The officiant speaks, commanding the attention of the room. "we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two illustrious houses," he begins, his voice resonant and clear. "House Corino is an ancient line renowned for their wisdom and strength, their rule over the great empire marked by benevolence and prosperity. and joining them is the house of atreides, heirs to a long-standing legacy of honor and courage, their reputation built upon fearless leadership and unwavering loyalty."

as the officiant continues his speech, his voice takes on a more somber tone. "however, even in the grand tapestry of empires, a darker shadow looms. the emperor's rule has been marked by greed and corruption, injustice and tyranny. the empire has become a prisoner of its own vices, its people suffering under the weight of its excesses."

"but now," he declares, his voice rising with newfound hope. "with the union of these two great houses, a beacon of change has appeared." he turns to you and Paul, his eyes gleaming with optimism. "the atreides-corino union represents a hope for a new era, a time of prosperity and justice that will transform the empire for generations to come!"

As his voice rings through the room as you and Paul stand side by side observing the short applause. Dignitaries from all areas of the spacing guild and known universe have come to witness the eminent shift of power. The lesser houses hoped for more riches and power while the great houses feared for their standing within the new empire.

Breathe. That’s what you remind yourself. Just breathe. You have the weight of an empire on your shoulders yet you hold your head high. You refuse to falter, there is no room for weakness within this court; this you know very well.

the officiant looks towards you and Paul once more, a soft smile playing on his lips. "and so, as the stars witness this union, may the wisdom and strength of the golden lion, the honor and courage of the atreides, and the hope for a brighter future coalesce in this moment, and forever change the course of the empire's history. let the union be sealed, and the new epoch begin!"

He guides the two of you to a lavish table where union documents are played out. Paul approaches first as the room is filled with an eerie silence. He takes a deep breath before glancing down at his fathers ducal signet, pouring out a small puddle of wax and pressing his fist into it, leaving an impression of the Atredies crest. He steps back and motions for you to go next.

As you walk up you notice the existing signatures recognizing this marriage. High court officials, Lady Jessica, and your father. His lavish signature mocks you from the paper. His last decree is the overturning of his power. You take a deep breath and grab the pen layed on the table and sign your name. It is done.

Your feet trail backwards and your back is met with the arm of Paul, who then swiftly turns you to face the audience.

“House Corino and House Atreides have been conjoined! Through sickness and health, times of peace and times of war; this union will stand triumphant.” The officiant speaks into the air before turning to you and stating your name and title, “Do you recognize this union?”

Without thinking you begin to speak, “I do.” Your voice doesn’t falter.

“Duke Atreides , do you recognize this union?”

You feel Paul slightly stiffen before speaking, “I do”

From the pedestal adjacent to where you and Paul are standing lay the wedding bands. Within moments they are presented to the two of you, you with Paul’s and him with yours. No explanation is needed for the next steps.

Paul’s hand reaches for your left and you raise it to him. His hands are rough and slightly scarred, from training and perhaps Arrakis, as they slip your ring on.

It’s anything but delicate, the titanium wraps around your finger coming to a plateau at the top where a compacted sphere of spice encased in some preservative lay. It's similar to Paul’s, which you hold in your right hand. A silver band with spice marbling that demands your attention.

Your eyes flicker up to meet him as he releases your hand and outstretches his left. You slip the ring on before averting your gaze to the officiant. The silence in the room is broken.

“Duke Atreides, you may kiss your bride.” He states.

You turn your eyes to meet Paul’s before taking a deep breath. A kiss to seal your fate. The entire sentiment is ironic to you, such a soft and delicate act to mark the beginning of such struggle and pain. You have yet to see it but something within you shudders with the weight of the future.

Your eyes lock with Paul’s blue eyes as he leans in, his face cupping your cheek before his lips meet yours. His lips are soft and warm, a slight twinge that reminds you of cinnamon. Spice. Power over spice is power over all. A power which you are soon to hold.

As you pull away you wonder if Paul will falter under the weight of the crown. There is a want within him which you have yet to place, a want that proceeds past that of wealth and power. In the short time you have gotten to know your now husband, you have learnt a few things about him. He is strong and loyal like his father was yet cunning and intelligent like his mother. He has seen things you cannot even imagine, the significance of the power he holds terrifies you, yet you fear more for what power this union will birth.

———

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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"The main character of Dune being called Paul is bad writing" no you dont UNDERSTAND. Paul is the only biblical name in Dune which firstly ties it into his whole messiah gig, but the fact that its Paul specifically is so interestinggg

In the Bible, Paul was originally a guy called Saul. He was perfectly fine with persecuting and murdering Christians until he got a vision from God, changed his name, embraced a new religion and stopped killing Christians.

Paul's name in Dune is clever because Paul has the OPPOSITE arc. He doesn't want to kill or persecute anyone, then he sees visions, has some changes to his name and then he embraces a new religion and starts killing people. Like my god Frank Herbert's mind??? I need whatever drugs he was on asap

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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Hi Author ! First of all I must wanted to say I love your works. 💕I wanted to request a Paul Atreides fic… Where the reader is his bodyguard. Here’s some ideas/details: maybe the reader is training with Paul and things get steamy but they ignore their feelings. Then, reader risks their life to save Paul and he gets worried, and finally confesses …thank you 🙏

YEEEAAAASSSSSS. I’ve had a similar thought brewing around in my mind after I read a short Irulan imagine.

THANK U FOR THE KIND WORDS!

I’ll tag u when it’s been done >:)

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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Imperial

[Paul Arteries x Reader] 3751 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: Ur gonna hate me but I’m splitting what was originally going to be this chapter in half. It’s getting longggg.

Previous chapter Next chapter

Dune masterlist

Seven———

The next day you were awakened by the sound of knocking at your bedroom door. You slowly sit up in bed, stretching your shoulders and back as you rouse yourself from sleep.

One of the house maids is at your door, she bows respectfully before placing a robe down on a nearby chair.

“My lady, you have been summoned to the baths,” she says politely, “they have prepared everything for you.”

You smile at the maids statement, feeling a slight jolt of amusement. You had almost forgotten about the promised pampering session, and the sudden reminder fills you with delight.

The maid moves aside as you rise from your bed and change into the robe.

She leads you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. You follow behind her, your steps light. The estate is bustling with activity, servants scurrying around making last-minute adjustments and preparations for the upcoming celebrations.

The bath chamber is a large, elegant affair, the walls and floors made of polished white marble. The ceiling is painted with images of clouds and the sky, making you feel like you are outdoors. It is dimly lit, a soft glow emanating from the walls, lighting the various bathtubs and areas for massage.

The bath chamber is staffed with a dozen or so servants who spring into action as you enter. Preparing bath salts and oils, massages and wraps, and a myriad of other treatments. The attendants move efficiently and quickly, a product of their years of experience.

You step into a tub of lukewarm water and soak for a bit before an attendant helps you out and guides you to a plush table. You lay down and she applies massage oils and works on your muscles. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction as the tightness and soreness vanishes from your muscles. Eventually another attendant starts applying a mask of clay and honey all over your body while another performs a manicure-pedicure.

It is pure bliss, every sensation of your body being taken care of to your heart's content. You can hardly remember a time when you felt so relaxed and content.

You have several hours to yourself to rejuvenate. You spend the day reading, soaking in the various baths and pools. The soft white pillows and couches are as comfortable as any bed.

You lose track of time, simply enjoying the various sensory experiences as you immerse yourself in the water and soak up the scents and aromas surrounding you. The staff keep your food trays topped up, and new trays of fruit and snacks are continually laid out for you.

You hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching, Delia’s distinctive, confident stride, her steps light and swift. The bath attendants bow politely as she enters, and she acknowledges them with a respectful nod.

As she makes her way over to you she rests one arm against the edge of the bath you are sitting in. Her gaze is soft and caring, her voice gentle as she speaks.

“You look positively radiant, my lady.”

You smile at her, your eyes glimmering in the light, “I feel radiant,” You reply, stretching your arm out to take her hand. She gives you a curt nod of acknowledgement before taking a breath.

“The guests have started to arrive for tomorrow.” Delia informs you, “You have a few hours to yourself before you have your final dinner with the Duke and his mother prior to your wedding day”

Her words snap you back to reality. Your smile slightly falters as you come to the realization that your time alone is coming to an end.

“Yes… The guests have started arriving haven't they.” you trail off, a subtle expression of longing crossing your face as you glance around the baths once more. “I will miss this.”

She gives your hands a light squeeze. Delia always carries this soft sympathy which almost breaks your heart—There are moments where she looks at you as though you were her own daughter.

“I know, my lady” She replies before releasing your hands and steps back, “let us get ready” she says gently, as if sensing your reluctance.

There was no point in resisting or protesting. There was work to be done, political connections to forge and strengthen.

— — —

You follow her through the hallways, a flurry of servants scurrying about around you. The castle is a hive of activity, people rushing to and fro, last minute preparations.

Eventually, you reach the lavish doors to the dining hall, pausing as you await for one of the guards to open it for you.

You take a breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. The dinner itself was a lavish affair, the courses served on delicate porcelain china and the crystal glasses glimmering in the candlelight. Paul was already waiting at the table with Jessica seated beside him.

Jessica leads the conversation, her words witty and filled with excitement for the days ahead. Eventually, the conversation turns to the political situation. You take a sip of your wine, your thoughts immediately turning to the political situation. You have spent years preparing for this moment, and you do not intend to waste the opportunity. You speak in a confident, persuasive tone, outlining your insights and strategies.

Paul leans forward, his attention fixated on you, his admiration for your skills and abilities evident in his expression.

“There is one final issue we must discuss,” Jessica says, her tone serious as she sets down her glass of wine, the delicate crystal making a soft sound as it hits the table. Her blue eyes are firm, and there is no hint of hesitation or reluctance when she begins to speak.

“You need to have children, my lady,” she says bluntly.

Your heart sinks, and you feel the anxiety of the future rising again. Her words are direct and unapologetic; she is not attempting to soften the blow. She is simply stating a fact, and it hits you like a gut punch. “Your role as a bride, especially of your stature, necessitates heirs. It is a political need.”

She is not simply referring to a desire to produce children eventually, she is talking about immediately. A child will further legitimize the Atreides in the Imperial family, and a royal couple will be expected to waste no time in doing their duty.

“ I am aware of my duties as a wife,” you peer into her blue eyes, “I know what must be done”

Dinner ends with a soft murmur of praise and approval. Paul's attention remains fixated on you for a moment, his expression serious and thoughtful. He stands up, and Jessica's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she too stands. The servants quickly begin to clear up the table.

Paul offers you his arm, and you take it, allowing him to lead you from the dining room back to your shared hallway.

“Quite the day tomorrow hm?” You end your sentence with a small hum.

Paul nods solemnly, a soft smile playing across his face. "It will be a historic occasion," he says, leaning his head near yours to whisper softly, "I do not know if I will be able to sleep tonight." His tone is sincere and sympathetic, and there is a hint of nervousness at the realization of what he is facing.

You let out a small chuckle, “Likewise, I might have Delia sedate me.” Paul laughs softly at your joke. There is a moment of genuine amusement in his expression. He likes the way you handle stress, the way you deal with tension and anxiety with humor. It is a glimpse of your true personality, behind the carefully crafted mask of poise and diplomacy.

He takes a deep breath, as to steel himself, and you can tell that he has moved into a more serious frame. He stops and faces you, his expression gentle but resolute.

“Try to get some rest tonight,” he says, “tomorrow is an important day for both of us.”

Both of you were well aware that tomorrow will mark a pivotal turning point in your lives as you come to a stop outside the door to your suite, a brief moment of silence hangs over you like a cloud.

“Tomorrow our destinies are intertwined” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “are you ready?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You have never been this uncertain, yet somehow you feel more sure of yourself than ever before.

You give him a firm nod, your expression set and determined. He bows his head slightly in understanding and steps away, continuing down the hall. As his footsteps recede into the distance you watch him go. As he approaches the door to his room he pauses for a moment, his silhouette framed in the doorway. He turns back one more time, his hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes meet yours and there is a moment of understanding passing between the two of you, as if a silent promise has been made.

He steps through the doorway and disappears from view, leaving you alone in the darkened, emptied corridor. You can hear the distant sounds of the servants making preparations and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety wash over you. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your nerves beginning to fray. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself; there is nothing to be done but to get some rest and prepare yourself for the inevitable. Tomorrow will be a long, emotionally draining day, and you need to be at your best.

With that you turn to face your chambers, entering and shutting the door firmly behind you. Once you fully enter you are met with the warm glow of candles and the comfortable surrounding of your personal space. Delia is bustling about, ensuring that everything is in order, and you can sense her nervousness and excitement.

You can see the glint of anticipation in her eyes as she smiles warmly, “My lady,” she says, her voice soft and respectful, “are you ready for tomorrow?”

You smile slightly, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the idea, “as i’ll ever be,” you say quietly, your tone laced with a mix of trepidation.

“Of course, my lady,” Delia says, nodding in understanding. She immediately begins to rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a soft nightgown and various other items for you to change into.

You watch her for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You try to push aside the anxiety and focus on the task at hand. Sleep.

Delia hands you a sedative, which you gladly take, and you wash it down with the cup of sleepy time tea sat on your nightstand. With one final huff you climb into your bed, letting the soft sheets envelop you as Delia begins to blow out the various candles positioned around your room. Soon you are in complete darkness as you hear your dor click shut, signaling her leave.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you start to feel the weight of sleep pulling you into the darkness. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains becomes hazy and distorted, the shadows dancing on the walls like a silent, dreamlike show. Your mind begins to wander, fragmented images and emotions flash through your mind like a slideshow of memory and imagination. For the first time since your arrival on Caladan, you do not dream.

You are pulled from your sleep as light filters in through the, now open, curtains, landing on your face.

“Goodmorning my lady” Delia says, standing near your window, “I'm sorry to wake you, but the day has begun.” The words send a jolt through your body causing you to sit up in bed, the reality of the day quickly coming to the forefront of your mind. You take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself,

“Thank you Delia,” you say as you stretch out your arms, feeling the knots and kinks from sleeping begin to fade. You swing your legs over the bed and stride to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face as you grip the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror.

You hear the sound of your door opening and the ruffeling of dresses. Delia. You exit the bathroom and see an array of morning dresses laid out for you.

Delia greets you with a smile and instantly delves into the schedule for the day, “Your schedule starts early I'm afraid,” she says, her tone earnest and efficient. “Breakfast is served in the small dining area to the left of the main hall, Lady Jessica will be joining you today. You will then be escorted to a dressing room to prepare you for the ceremony. The ceremony will be in the great hall at noon,” she takes a breath, “then there will be a reception and a few diplomatic meetings scheduled in the latter half of the day.”

Her words are like a deluge, washing over you like a tidal wave of responsibilities and expectations. You take a breath, trying to absorb everything she's said.

Soon you are swiftly dressed and on your way to breakfast, Delia trailing at your side. As you reach the small room you see Jessica waiting, dressed in a deep red gown, her hair pulled back into a simple yet elegant braid. She smiles as you enter, her eyes filled with pride and excitement.

“Good morning,” she says as you take a seat against her, her voice is warm as she busies herself with making you a cup of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected. I'm looking forward to the day,” you reach for the teacup, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. It helps calm your nerves, even if it's just for the moment that you feel the warmth go down your throat.

Jessica nods, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Today is a momentous occasion, and it’s important to start the day off on the right foot. I have full confidence in you. You will do well today.” Her words sink in, bolstering your resolve, and confidence. You take another sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through your body even further.

“Thank you, Lady Jessica.” You say, smiling faintly.

“”Of course” her expression softened to one of affection, “you are soon to be part of the family.” With that, she turns her attention to the breakfast spread laid out in front of you, gesturing for you to help yourself to the various dishes laid out before you.

The breakfast is an assortment of simple yet delicious fare; fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and a selection of the finest meats and cheeses. You help yourself to a few items, relishing the taste and texture of the food as you welcome the distraction from the anxiety swirling in your mind.

Through the meal, you both chat softly about the various guests who will be attending the ceremony and the different diplomatic interactions that will no doubt take place.

Jessica offers her perspective and advice in a way that is both insightful and reassuring, and you begin to feel more prepared for the day’s events. You are aware that many of her inputs are that of the Bene Gesserit, and the more in detail she goes about the politics you slowly start to realize the true influence of this faction in Imperial politics.

As you finish your breakfast, Jessica dabs her lips with a napkin and looks at you, “It’s nearly time,” she says, her tone steady yet excited.

You nod to the attendant, who quickly steps forward to escort you to the changing room. Once you approach the lavish room, Delia immediately springs into action. She dismisses the servants and grabs ahold of your arm, pulling you into the room.

“Quickl, my lady, we must get you dressed into the ceremony attire.” Her voice is ecstatic as she helps you out of the breakfast gown and quickly guides you to a table where your gown is laid out.

It is a work of art, made from the finest silk, and shimmers softly in the light. As you begin to step into it you feel the silken fabric glide over your body, the weight and texture immediately grounding and empowering you.

Within moments, with the help of various other attendants, you are dressed. The gown fits your frame perfectly.

You gaze into a mirror adjacent to where you are standing and it all begins to become very real. You are to be Empress, your father is to be executed, and you are to marry. WIth a sigh you turn away and stride to take your seat at the vanity, where the hairstylist is waiting to do your hair alongside the makeup artist.

In a whirl of powders and sprays your hair is weaved into an elegant braid, a few strands laying around your face, which glimmers in the light. You close your eyes as your jewelry is put on and a few adornments are put in your braid.

As you stand all the attendants watch in awe, you are befitting th4e elegant and regal occasion of the day.

“You look magnificent” Delia says, adoration dripping in her voice, “Are you ready?” She asks softly.

With that you take a deep breath to gather your composure, smoothing out the gown with your hands. Despite the nerves still fluttering deep inside you, you feel a newfound sense of confidence and poise. “Yes,” you say, voice steady and determined, “I’m ready.”

With that Delia takes hold of your arm, giving it a light squeeze, as you turn to leave the room, your gown swishing softly with each step. You are led to a small, private room adjacent to the great hall. The room is dimly lit, the heavy velvet drapes drawn closed to create a sense of enclosure and solitude. As you step inside, you can her the soft murmur of voices and chatter from the other room, the sounds of the bustling guests filtering through the thick wood door.

You take a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you look around the room, taking in the simple yet elegant decorations and furniture. A small chair is placed by the door, and a small table holds a tray of light refreshments, untouched and waiting.

“Wait here while I make one final round to ensure everything is ready” Delia says softly, “I'll be back in just a moment my lady” She then slips out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

You are left alone in the room, the sound of your own breathing echoing softly in the quiet space. You take a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and focusing on your breath, slowing it and deepening it until your heart rate has slowed to a steady beat.

The silence in the room is both calming and claustrophobic, and you find yourself wandering around the small space, your hands touching the smooth fabric of the drapes and the cool, polished wood of the furniture. The wait feels endless, but you know that you must remain patient and composed until the time comes.

The sounds from the great hall seem to grow louder and more insistent, the excited chatter and laughter seeping through the closed door. You can almost picture the scene unfolding just a few feet away from you, the guests gathering and taking their seats, the ceremony attendants going about their duties.

You can hear the sound of the orchestra playing a beautiful instrumental piece, the melodic strains filling the air. It’s a signal that the ceremony is about to begin, and you can hear the guests in the great hall hushing and settling into their seats. You can imagine Paul preparing to walk out, his steps measured and steady, his presence commanding and regal.

You stand near the door, listening intently for any further sounds or cues that would indicate that it's your turn to walk out. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, and in the quiet of the small room, your thoughts and emotions threaten to drown you.

suddenly, the door creaks open, and Delia steps into the room, her expression calm and composed. "it's time, my lady," she says softly, her voice carrying an air of urgency. "the ceremony is about to begin. are you ready?"

your heart skips a beat at her words, and you nod, gathering your composure and courage. you take one final deep breath, smoothing out your gown and straightening your shoulders. "yes," you reply, your voice steady and firm. "I'm ready."

Delia nods in approval, her eyes gleaming softly in the dim light. "you're going to do splendidly," she whispers, her voice tinged with a sense of pride. "just remember to stay composed, and everything will be alright."

with those words, she moves towards you, giving a final inspection to make sure that everything is in order. She adjusts a stray lock of hair, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Finally satisfied, she steps back and motions for you to follow her out. "Let's go," she says, her voice soft but firm. "The ceremony awaits."

you take a deep breath and follow her out of the room, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that lines the hallway. your heart is pounding in your chest as you approach the great hall, the sound of the music and the murmured conversations growing louder with every step.

the great hall doors are massive, carved from the finest wood and polished to a mirror-like finish. the intricate patterns and motifs etched into the wood are a testament to the skill and craftsmanship that went into its creation. as you approach the doors, you can hear the sounds of the ceremony attendants bustling about on the other side, readying themselves for the ceremony. the air is thick with anticipation and excitement, and you can almost feel the energy simmering just beyond the threshold.

As the doors slowly swing open, you see the great hall spread before you, a grand space filled with guests and attendants. The room is bathed in a warm, golden light, and the air is filled with the scent of roses and incense. As you step forward to the aisle, the eyes of the guests turn to you, and a hushed silence falls over the room.

———

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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Next chapter of Imperial is coming soon I SWEAR.

#ink spill updates #paul atredies x reader

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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100 notes 🎉🎉

Imperial

[ Paul Atreides x F!Reader ] 1307 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: I plan on writing a prequel at some point. This is most definitely going to be multi part

Next chapter

Dune masterlist

One———

Your father stood beside you as the door of our ship slowly lowered, meeting the grassy ground of Caladan with a deep thud.

The air was cold, crisp, and smelt of the sea. The same sea you could hear smashing against the cliff side with the help of the impenetrable wind.

A fog lingered in the air as you watched four guards step out forward and as you follow, the Atredies household seem to rise out of the ground as you walked towards the estate.

Standing tall, cold, still and terrified you watch as the Duke of Atreides, and soon the Imperium, limps towards your father, bloodied knife in hand.

“The life debt has been payed” Irulan, your little sister, pushes out.

Your head snaps to look at her and instantly you speak, only thinking to spare your family

“Spare our fathers life and I will be your bride. The throne will be yours” you speak, looking the young Atredies in the eyes. Anger, chaos, and rage is all you can see within them.

Hidden behind layers of metal blinds and chain mail, your eyes went to the body of Feyd-Rautha. Still and cold. This is the first time anyone has seen him so… at peace.

Your body shakes when the Duke of Atreides drives his foot into the ground in-front of the Emperor. A horrifying silence fell over the room as he slowly outstretches his hand, the only sound in the space being the hot Arakkis wind and Paul’s labored breathing.

Fear. That is all you feel as you watch your father hesitantly take the Dukes left hand and begin the decent to his knees. How could this be happening? The imperium is going to swallow this naive boy whole and take your whole family down with him.

The second your fathers lips touched the cold metal everyone dropped to their knees, including Irulian. All who stood were you, Paul, and a fremen who soon stormed out. You took a deep breath.

Once you arrived inside Paul and your father disappeared to discuss the implications of this agreement. The transfer of your ownership.

You were left standing in-front of a large window facing the cliff side, an Atreides guard standing a few feet behind you. You loathed him already, you hated his very existence. This false prophet. As the waves crashed against the jagged cliff you tried to savor your remaining moment of pseudo-freedom. Alas, women are never free in this world.

“You are requested for dinner, your highness” A member of the staff stammered out. You let out a small hum before turning around with a polite smile. From the moment you were born this is what you were made for. A political marriage. One of convenience. You stepped forward.

“Of course”

———

Paul was already there, seated at the head of the table. He did not look up on your entrance, but he did acknowledge your presence. A small nod was the only thing he offered as a greeting, his focus being on your father who was discussing trade routes.

You took a seat next to your father as you waited for the arrival of Lady Jessica. Hands in lap you picked at your nails until you could no longer, a rage burning within you.

Soon she entered before taking a seat on Paul’s right. Their blue eyes were captivating, despite their departure from the desert planet.

The wedding was to be held on the home of the Atredies, Caladan. Every and all representatives of the Great Houses and other branches of the Imperium were to be present.

“It is an event of extreme significance” Lady Jessica spoke, “we have 4 weeks before the wedding where we will then depart back to Arakkis shortly there after.”

You took a deep breath as you watched her, your eyes occasionally drifting to Paul.

“I believe it is time for a proper introduction.” Jessica said looking at Paul. She says your full name and motions to you with her hand, “Lady Corrino is the firstborn child of late-emperor Shaddam, and the heiress of the imperium.”

“My lord.” You bid him a nod of acknowledgment before averting your eyes to the table. You thought that if you stared at it long enough you would wake up from this night terror.

A nod was his response to your greeting as he looked away from you, turning back towards the window. In the distance, he could just make out the edge of the caladan sea, the endless gray waves lapping up against the estate's cliffside property.

Beside him, he could hear his mother speak to you again. "I trust your journey was not too terrible."

“It was pleasant. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Your father spoke and your gut churned. The normality of this exchange is twisting your mind in ways you cannot imagine. The politeness, the facade, it all made you sick.

"Good." A simple statement. Paul felt no motivation to continue the conversation even before it had started. His mother continued on with her own chatter with you and your father.

"But for now, I will let and paul get to know each other a bit more while I escort you back to your ship." Jessica smiled, taking the cue to step away. she gave him a pointed look before she left, however-- be polite. A trade of ownership, you have been successfully dumped at the doorstep of the Atredies and once your father left this planet you would be at their mercy.

A sickening silence fell over the room. Paul glanced away from you, not wishing to return any look. Instead, his eyes searched through the rain-soaked windows, seeking for something to do besides idle chat. This was a waste of time.

“I am as dissatisfied about this as you are my lord” You boldly state. Not caring for any reprimanding or impoliteness. You were filled with rage and nothing more. Blinded by your distasteful and undesirable future.

He raised an eyebrow in your direction, glancing back at you. Silence lingered between them for a moment before he finally spoke. "and what gave it away?"

“Political Marriages are always a fuss”

A soft chuckle. he had to give you respect for that. It was the first time in your conversation with him as of yet that you were not just spouting nonsense. "No, I have to agree with you on this point. There is nothing convenient about being wed for political purposes."

It was almost humorous, in a way. He was stuck with you just as you were with him. “Two strangers tied together by duty.” There was just a hint of a sigh at the end of his words, he sounded just a little bitter. Paul’s eyes flicked off in a random direction, finding no real distraction from you and he was stuck within the room with you.

“Tell me about yourself." His voice was flat as he asked the question, it was more out of curiosity than any deep interest.

“I’m educated in Imperium law, structure, history…” you drone on about all of your prospects. Hobbies you were forced to have as a child to prepare you for this future.

"you're a woman of talents, it seems." He says

It was better to have a pretty fiancé who also did not seem like she needed to be supervised all the time. At least it meant his duties were lessened, to a degree. He could focus on other things, rather than wasting a moment worrying after you.

“Shall I walk you to your room, my lady? it was long journey and you must be worn out." His voice held a tone of kindness only one in high society is trained to have. Superficially sincere. You wanted to vomit.

“That would be lovely thank you” you smile

———

Next chapter

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

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Imperial

[Paul Atreides × F!Reader ] 3177 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: Next chapter is gonna be a hefty one… So here is low key a filler chapter before shit gets real. Requests are open!

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Dune masterlist

Six———

[Two days before the ceremony]

You find yourself in the sprawling garden grounds, strolling through the lush foliage and winding pathways. The air is fresh and cool, filled with the scent of flowers and shrubs.

A light breeze catches the skirts, sending a playful swirl of air around your legs. The fabric drifting lightly with each step.

The scene is tranquil and serene, a break from the stress and preparations of the impending wedding.

You stand on the cliff side, the wind whipping at you as you admire the water, feeling the gentle breeze on your face, the faint scent of pollen and vegetation in the air. You watch the waves crashing below, the sunlight gleaming off the ocean's surface.

You quite enjoy the moment of quiet solitude, the beauty and tranquility providing a welcome respite from the stresses and frenzied activity of the upcoming ceremony.

you take in a deep breath as the scene unfolds before you, the fresh air filling your lungs and soothing your mind. The sounds of the waves and the rustling leaves are a balm on your ears, a reminder of the natural forces beyond human control. These forces are so far removed from the court games and power struggle of life within the imperial palace.

You close your eyes, relishing the peace and seclusion. The breeze touches your face with a familiar warmth, the soothing sounds of the ocean washing away all concerns and anxieties. For a brief moment, you think you hear someone call your name, but you dismiss it as just the wind.

Suddenly, a warm, strong hand brushes your shoulder, startling you as you open your eyes. You quickly turn to see Paul standing beside you, watching you peacefully enjoying the scenery. You quickly recover, finding your nerves returning in a sudden rush.

"Am I disturbing you?" he asks, his voice gentle and reassuring as he studies you.

"I was simply enjoying the beautiful morning" you reply, he is dressed casually in a shirt and pants, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms.

He laughs lightly, "It is a beautiful morning, indeed,” he says with a smirk,

“but are you not supposed to be occupied with bridal preparations?" You groan, wanting to escape the stress for just a moment.

"I needed a respite from the endless preparations," you say with a light, playful tone. "It was driving me mad."

"Is the wedding really so arduous?" he says, an element of mock surprise in his tone. "I would have thought that the bride would be more delighted at the prospect of her wedding, that it would be a moment of joy and celebration."

You chuckle, the soft sound echoing through the quiet garden. you sense the lightness and ease of this encounter, the bantering between you so unlike the stiff, formalities of court etiquette. The rush of adrenaline and excitement within you escalates, your mind racing with the possibilities of this moment.

"Perhaps the bride-to-be is more concerned with the responsibilities of adulthood than the joy of her wedding," you reply boldly, the playful banter evident in your tone.

Paul smiles at this, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before he glances away. He seems amused by your boldness, and his voice holds a subtle hint of admiration as he replies.

"I would have thought our future empress would thrive on the challenge of leadership and responsibility. It is not for the faint of heart, after all."

You feel a faint flutter of pleasure as he calls you "our future empress". There is something about his confidence in you that gives you pause, and the way he looks at you now holds a hint of affection and respect.

"I'm certainly no wilting lily," you quip, "but there is a difference between being a leader, and being shackled by the responsibilities of leadership. Paul hums in agreement, his hair blowing slightly in the Caladan breeze.

You are aware of the way your bodies are close to each other, the nearness fueling the flutter of excitement within you. Your eyes linger on his face, the slight smirk still on his lips.

Paul finally breaks the stare, his voice still playful but carrying a hint of wistfulness. "The expectations upon you will be immense," he says softly.

"As with you" You say

He chuckles at this—-he is undoubtedly aware of the weight of the empire upon his shoulders.

"As with me, he agrees, "but yours is different. As future Empress, you will be at the mercy of the imperial court, at the whims and desires of the nobility and the power-hungry nobles of the court.

"Mine may be a path of responsibility or even isolation, but yours will be a path of constant negotiation and intrigue. there will be many people who wish to influence your opinions and bend your will to their desires."

He pauses, his voice softening. "It will be a difficult battle - an endless struggle to defend yourself from those who would use your power and influence for their own ends. you must be strong and resolute, or they will swallow you whole.”

"I'm aware of the runnings of the court, my lord" you say

he nods, appreciative of your understanding.

"I know that you are, but it's a different thing to experience it for yourself, to be exposed to the machinations of the imperial court, all with the weight of the imperium on your shoulders."

He takes one step closer to you, his voice softening further.

"I will be with you, every step of the way. I will be your greatest ally. and if anyone threatens or challenges you, they will have me to contend with.”

"I extent that virtue to you as well" you say before turning back to the view

He smiles at your response. There is a hint of warmth in the way his eyes linger upon yours, as if he wants to say something but doesn't know how to express it.

"Know you will keep looking out for me,” he says, his voice quiet and soothing. "I hope you will let me protect you as well."

The two of you sit in a comfortable moment of silence, letting the wind wash over you as the sea clashes against the earth.

"There is something I wish to give you on this very day," he says, the warmth of his voice filling your ears. "It is a small gift, but it represents our friendship and my trust in you, and I was wondering if you might accept it."

He pauses for a beat, the anticipation clear in his eyes. Then he pulls a slender silver pendant from his pocket. It hangs from a delicate chain, the intricate workmanship of the metallic pattern swirling around the pendant, the metal glistening in the sunlight.

He holds the pendant out to you, the chain slightly shaking with every movement. You are aware of the slight brush of his fingertips as he hands it to you, the warmth of his touch sending a tingle down your spine.

You take the pendant in your hand, the light shimmering off the silver catching your eye.

Paul's eyes are fixed on you, watching your reaction. the pendant hangs in your hand, a simple but luxurious display of his affection. the silver sparkles in the light, a reminder of the promise of your union and the power of this moment.

You smile, "Thank you" your thanks is filled with genuine appreciation.

You turn around, moving your hair away from the nape of your neck as you reach your hand out to hand him the necklace, signaling him to put it on

He takes the necklace gently from you, his fingers lingering along your neck for a moment. He steps even closer, his breath warm as he reaches around and places the necklace at your nape, adjusting the length so it hangs just below your collarbone.

Paul lingers his hands behind your neck, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin on your neck. You can feel the slightest flutter of excitement as he adjusts the necklace, the sensation making you even more aware of his presence.

"There", he says quietly, his voice low and soothing.

He steps back, his eyes lingering on the necklace as he watches it glimmer against your neck. He seems pleased with the way it hangs, matching your porcelain skin and the line of your collarbone.

"Suits you perfectly," he adds, his voice still low and gentle.

You feel the lightness of the moment, the tension and uncertainty of the wedding now far from your mind.

Paul's gaze stills on the necklace as you turn to face him, his eyes fluttering to your throat as his fingers lightly brush the delicate chain.

Paul's gaze flickers to the approaching figure, and his fingers release the chain, slipping back into his pocket. Your attention snaps to the approaching figure, and you notice Paul's brief glance of surprise as she appears. He clears his throat, breaking the intimate spell of the moment.

"Our chaperone arrives," he says casually, drawing a laugh out of you.

Paul smiles, appreciating the way you laugh, the sound of your light and airy amusement carrying across the garden.

Paul's gaze shifts to Delia, who approaches with her usual calm, poised demeanor. Delia is a strong, fiercely ambitious woman, her intellect rivaling Paul's own.

Paul steps close, placing his hand against the small of your back. "Hello Delia" You say warmly

Delia greets you politely, her voice smooth and professional. no trace of warmth or affection in her tone, she remains an enigma.

Paul's hand still rests behind you, barely grazing the small of your back. Delia notices the subtle gesture, the way Paul stands so close to you, and she watches you both with a subtle sense of curiosity.

"It's lovely to see you two enjoying the scenery, but unfortunately the lady is due for her final dress fitting" she says

Paul's hand falls from your back, and he steps back. the moment of intimate connection broken, his expression returning to one of polite professionalism.

"Of course," Paul says, his tone polite but respectful.

"We should not keep the dressmaker waiting."

Delia flashes a quick smile, the faintest hint of amusement at this interaction. She steps back, then takes your arm and leads you away, her voice firm but gentle. You can sense her curiosity as you walk away from the Duke.

"So." she trails off "Is the new pendant a gift from the young Duke?"

Delia's tone is curious as she asks the question, but her face remains expressionless. she turns to face you, her eyes lingering on where the necklace rests against your neck.

She seems to study the necklace for a moment, the subtle shine of the silver in the light.

"It is, yes," you reply gently. "He wished to give the necklace as a gift upon the occasion of our wedding, though I do not believe it is officially part of the ceremony."

Delia is silent for a moment, considering your response. Then she finally replies, her voice still calm and professional.

"You seem to have developed quite the rapport with the Duke in recent days. I was unaware the two of you were so familiar."

You let out a small laugh, "You have yet to see the pain that is tutoring the young lord in imperial law"

Delia smiles at this, the faintest hint of humor and understanding seeping through the layers of professionalism .

"And the young lord is a fast learner, yes?" Her voice is light, almost playful - a rare hint of softness from the normally stoic woman.

"He is a natural. Very intellectual but that prompts many of questions"

"You are a patient teacher, I am sure." Delia says, her tone still playful.

She pauses for a moment, her gaze still on the necklace.

"You seem quite close with him now - is the pendant a sign of your friendship?" You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. Delia allows another small smile, her expression softening momentarily.

She clears her throat, her demeanor returning to the usual professionalism.

"Well, I am glad the two of you have developed such a… friendship."

She pauses for a moment, as if deciding how much to reveal.

"The young duke has grown fond of you during these tutoring sessions," she says, her voice low and whisper-quiet. "He speaks fondly of your intellect and strength of character, and I know he enjoys your company." You smile at the comment

Delia steps back, giving one final glance of curiosity at the necklace around your neck, before abruptly shifting into her usual polite demeanor.

"The dressmaker will be waiting," she says in a firm tone, her expression once again stern and professional.

She turns and heads back to the main palace, her pace confident and steady.

———

You are now in a larger room, the white-marble walls and high ceilings giving it a sense of grandeur. a large circular mirror is set into the center of one wall, reflecting your image back as you stand before it.

Delia leads you over to the dressing area, where several women are already arranging dresses and accessories, jewelry, hair pieces, etc.

The dressmaker smiles at you as you approach, and a few of the women offer polite greetings. They begin quickly arranging a variety of dresses in front of you, all in soft, light colors - whites, yellows, and light greens.

You stand in front of the dresses and jewelry for a few moments, admiring the delicate fabrics and craftsmanship. You are aware of the subtle glances from the women, and you can sense Delia's presence as she stands behind you, her eyes on the various dresses and pieces.

"How many dress changes am i expected to make" you joke, breaking the tension. The women chuckle politely as the dressmaker smiles.

"Well, you will have three dresses for the ceremony and reception, of course," the dressmaker replies. "and three dresses for the various parties and balls that are to take place over the next several days. You'll also require a dress for your journey back to Arrakis—-I assume you'll be returning immediately after the celebrations are over."

You nod, admiring the dress you currently have on.

The women begin quickly discussing the various details of the dresses, measuring your height and taking your measurements. The dressmaker is the head of the operation, offering suggestions and adjustments. Delia stands quiet at your side for the duration, watching intently and offering input when asked. The process occurs quickly and smoothly, the women working in a coordinated fashion.

Eventually, the dressmaker calls for a short break, and the women begin to gather up their tools and pieces.

Delia takes the opportunity to step closer to you, her expression calm and focused. she waits for the activity around you to slow, her voice soft when she finally speaks.

"I hope you are not finding these appointments onerous," she says gently.

You feel a slight flutter of affection at her word choice—-she has a certain formal flair to her conversations, a sense of polite detachment layered under the surface.

you let out a small chuckle.

"Not at all—-I am enjoying the opportunity to play dress-up for a change"

Delia laughs softly, the genuine amusement evident on her face. she seems to appreciate your humor, allowing her to let her guard down for a moment.

"It's funny what we women will do for the sake of appearance and style" she replies, her voice gentle and pleasant.

You nod, "Delia, May I ask you a question?"

Delia looks at you, her expression curious and receptive.

"Of course," she replies politely, signaling that you can continue.

"Will you be following me to Arrakis?" You could not bear to lose her as a confidant

delia considers your question for a moment, her expression sober. She is aware of the intimacy you have developed together, and she genuinely values your conversations. She also knows the political complexities surrounding your marriage and the possibility of assassination attempts is very real.

She takes a moment to consider her response, her voice serious yet empathetic.

"I will be traveling to Arrakis with you," she says, her words measured and decisive. "There is no reason for me to remain here without you." You smile warmly

Delia's expression softens a bit, a slight twinkle to her eyes as she sees your smile. she is glad to see that you are pleased by her response, and her gaze lingers on you for one extra beat before she returns to her usual calm demeanor.

"Now—-we shall return to the fittings," she says, taking your arm and leading you back to the dress fitting area.

the fittings resume, the dressmaker calling out dresses and options for you to try on. Delia watches everything with careful scrutiny as the dresses are fitted and discussed. She is fully involved in the process, giving advice and input whenever she is asked. This goes on without incident, and the process runs smoothly and efficiently.

After several hours, the three dresses for the ceremony and reception have been tried on and fitted. The dressmaker makes a final few adjustments, and then steps back, seeming satisfied with her work. Delia is also satisfied, her eyes skimming over the dresses and jewelry and approving of the chosen selections.

Now it is time to choose your attire for the various parties and balls that will take place over the next several days. The women prepare the various items, discussing the details and final selections. Some of the pieces are quite striking and eye-catching. delia watches closely, remaining completely in charge of the selection process.

Eventually, the three dresses for the parties have been selected, with matching jewelry and accessories. The final touch is the dress for your journey back to arrakis a simple but elegant ensemble. The various items are quickly bundled up in travel bags, and the dressmaker steps back with a flourish.

Delia's expression is satisfied, her voice calm and confident.

"It looks like everything is set for the next few days. you'll have plenty of opportunities to wear all these lovely dresses, Delia says politely. she glances at you, one corner of her mouth faintly creasing upwards in a subtle smile.

"You have one final itinerary meeting and then your final final with the Duke and his mother before the ceremony." She walked up to you, "Tomorrow is a day of pampering" Delia says

A soft smile crosses your lips, your heart fluttering slightly at the mention of an all-day pampering session.

"That sounds wonderful," you reply, your voice warm and sincere.

———

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inkofthebrain · 1 year ago

Text

Imperial

[Paul x F!Reader] 3013 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions.

A/n: Yeahhhh let’s goooo. We actually see Paul! Requests are open for one shots, imagines, and more. Check out the new request section of my master-list for my character lists!

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Five———

[Five days before the ceremony]

As you open your eyes, you feel a sense of deja vu wash over you. Yesterday's events come rushing back, and you can't help but feel a wave of exhaustion and dread.

You sit up slowly, shaking off the lingering remnants of sleep. It takes you a moment to fully orient yourself, but you soon remember where you are and what has happened.

"Is it time already?" you ask, your voice hoarse and dry.

"Yes it is, Lady Jessica instructed I let you sleep in for a few hours. It's early afternoon my lady" Delia says, opening your curtains.

You groan softly, feeling the weight of fatigue settle in your bones. The thought of yet more preparations and appointments fills you with a mixture of anticipation and resignation.

"Very well," you say, sighing. "Let us proceed."

The exhaustion was getting to you.

You follow Delia out of your chambers, your footsteps slow and heavy. You know that the countdown to the wedding has begun, and with each passing day, the pressure and expectations grow heavier.

You wonder who this day's appointments will be with, and what tasks you will have to face. You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself for what lies ahead.

As you and Delia traverse the hallways you look up in surprise as Paul appears around the corner, his expression serious and intense.

"My lady, may I speak with you? In private?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

Soon you nod, gesturing to a nearby empty chamber.

"Of course, my lord," you say, your voice soft and demure. "We can speak privately here."

You follow Paul into the small, secluded chamber, feeling a thrill of anticipation and nervousness. You have spoken to him before in meetings and at dinner, but never in private. You were acquaintances. What does he want to discuss with you so urgently?

Once the door closes he turns to you, "Are you ok?"

You nod tentatively. "Yes," you say softly, but the tone of your voice betrays the lie. You cannot deny the exhaustion and tension that has built up since your arrival on caladan.

"I am just... worn out from the day's events" you say, knowing full well that such an answer falls well short of the truth.

"You have been asleep all day" he states, catching you in your lie. "My mother told me about the early morning. I apologize for the pain that was caused"

You glance up at him, stunned by his sudden show of concern. You have never seen him express empathy, much less sympathy, towards anyone. There is a genuine warmth to his voice, and you feel a prickle of confusion at his behavior.

"It is not your fault," you say gently, forcing out a smile.

"It is the way of things. And it was necessary to determine if I would be strong enough for what lies ahead."

"Still", he says, his tone softening. "It can't have been pleasant. my apology stands." he pauses for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. Then he continues, "My mothers entire process is barbaric. No one should have to endure such things. I did not expect her to extend her horrors to you"

You nod. "Our lives are not in our hands"

He nods, seeming to understand the truth behind your words. "Perhaps that is the hardest part", he says. "The knowledge that we have no real control over our own lives. That everything we do is predestined, and the path we follow has already been laid out for us."

You feel a sense of companionship wash over you as he speaks. Here is someone who truly understands, someone who gets it. You know who has had this feeling before, and the realization makes your heart ache.

Paul pauses for a moment, as if searching for the right words to say next. Then he continues, his tone softer and more candid than you have ever heard it before.

"I sense the loneliness within you", he says, "the sense of being trapped and isolated, no matter how many people surround you."

Paul's spice tinted eyes meet yours, and for a few breaths, there is an undeniable tension between you. Then he says, barely above a whisper, "I know the darkness that haunts you." Your breath catches in your throat, as if he had reached into your soul and grasped hold of your deepest fears. You want to pull away, to maintain distance and keep your emotions in check.

You have never shared these thoughts, these feelings, with anyone. But in him, you suddenly feel the urge to bare all, to open yourself to him completely.

"i've been dreaming of Arrakis" You Mutter

He smiles at you, a faint spark of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Nightmares, I assume," he says.

There is a hint of sadness in his voice, as if he knows all too well what that particular dream means. You notice the way his gaze lingers on your face, and you wonder how much he truly knows of your inner struggles and insecurities.

You nod silently, unable to deny or dismiss the truth of the statement. Even though you had grown used to having nightmares about arrakis, this one had been particularly vivid and unsettling. You can still feel the terror of the desert and the endless sand dunes, the crushing sense of doom and helplessness.

The silence hangs heavy between you, thick and taut with unspoken sentiment.

Paul searches your eyes briefly, and then he speaks, his voice just above a whisper. "Your dreams...they tell me that you are afraid, more afraid than you have let yourself admit. Even here, in this safe space, you cannot let go of the anxiety that haunts you."

You nod, feeling yourself grow flushed as his words strike a nerve. You have worked hard to conceal your fears, to portray a facade of strength and resilience. But here, in front of him, in this moment of intimate connection and understanding, you feel yourself succumbing to his perceptive nature.

"You see too much", you say quietly, unable to deny the truth of his words.

"Perhaps I do", he says, his voice soft and sincere. “The people view us as messiahs." He takes a breath.

"It's all fabrication, and we are bound to it by duty" he sighs

You nod, understanding the weight of the expectations that surround you. "Yes, we are puppets on strings, pulled in different directions by the desires of those who hold power. they seek to use us for their own ends, and we have no choice but to play our part."

Paul pauses, his eyes hardening slightly. "But we cannot allow them to define who we truly are. Inside, beyond this facade of duty and obligation, we are still our own people. we still have our own thoughts and feelings, our own desires and dreams."

"we each have a choice", he continues, "to surrender to

those expectations and allow them to define who we are. or to cling on to our own truth, despite the consequences."

He meets your gaze, and his words carry an intensity and urgency that resonates deep within your soul.

"I promise you," he says, looking into your eyes with a serious conviction, "That whatever choice you make, whatever price you must pay, I will be by your side to shoulder the burden as long as you extend that courtesy to me as well." You nod, taking a deep breath.

“I too have a truth I wish to cling to" he says before wiping a tear from your cheek which you had not noticed fell. “I unfortunately must depart, I have a security meeting for the ceremony" he says.

"Of course", you say, your voice straining with emotion.

"Do what you must. But promise me one thing..."

"What is it?", he asks, his voice still tinged with sympathy and concern.

You take a deep breath, feeling the lingering effect of his touch on your skin. You feel the urge to speak what is in your heart, to lay bare your feelings for him, your desire for him. But you manage to reign in the impulse, and try to maintain a sense of decorum.

"That we will see each other again, before we are made husband and wife", you say, your voice faltering slightly.

He nods softly, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He understands the deep significance of this brief exchange, and the desire behind your request.

"I promise", he says, his gaze intense and sincere. "We will see each other again, and when we do, much will be made clear. Until then, take care of yourself, and remain true to your heart. It’s far from over”

"I must go now," he says, "the ceremony is only five days away, and there is much to be done before then. but rest assured" he adds, his gaze lingering on you. "we will meet again."

The following two days were filled with dress fittings, floral arrangement and decor selection, cake tasting, and many meetings.

———

[Three days before the ceremony]

The entire palace was transformed into a flurry of activity, the servants bustling around and preparing everything for the ceremony. As the bride-to-be, the majority of the preparations fell to you and your family. But unlike many girls approaching their wedding day, you had no expectations or excitement. Instead, your thoughts were consumed by the impending reunion with Paul and the knowledge of the difficult days ahead.

The mornings were typically the only time you had to yourself. You were seated adjacent to your bedroom window, looking out at the sea as you reminisced on your upbringing.

You remember being escorted through the halls of the imperial palace, your eyes drifting past the grand spectacles of art and decor to the various courtiers and officials who moved like pawns across the board.

The emperor's hand gripped yours tightly, his eyes scanning the crowded halls for threats and vulnerabilities. His presence was a shadow cast over your childhood, looming large with power and influence.

You remember the countless hours spent in tedious lessons and tutelage, the endless nights spent studying ancient history and political theory. You remember feeling a deep sense of loneliness and isolation, a sense of being confined within the walls of the imperial palace.

Irulan was easily manipulated. That is what he desired. You were a threat to him.

It was his choice to not have you trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit like your sister. He feared the power you would hold.

You feel a sudden surge of resentment at this thought. He viewed you as a threat to his own power, not a worthy successor.

The emperor never truly understood the depths of your spirit, or your innate drive for greatness. He feared you and sought to destroy you before you could discover your potential.

The resentment grows as you recall all the ways you could have been trained and guided, only to be denied those opportunities. you could have been an even greater asset to the imperial house, but he denied you that chance.

"You cannot stop fate, father" you whisper aloud to yourself.

As you wandered through the halls, being transported from chamber to chamber to meet with various specialists, you felt increasingly overwhelmed and anxious. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, and you started to turn but immediately recognized Paul's firm grasp.

You wheeled around to face him, feeling a rush of relief and excitement as you saw his familiar face. Paul had appeared like a ghost in a forest, seemingly coming out of nowhere. but you were not surprised at his sudden presence, knowing the importance of this reunion.

"Well, the bride finally decides to make her appearance" he says with a faint smile, his gaze raking over your dress and appearance, taking in the details. But there is more than mockery and scorn in his expression, there is something deep and genuine.

You feel the corners of your mouth curve in a smile despite yourself, and you notice the gleam in his eyes.

"I trust they have been spoiling you?" he asks, gesturing to the entourage of servants surrounding you.

You nod, and try not to roll your eyes. "yes, they have been treating me like royalty", you say with a slight hint of mockery. "One might have forgotten that I am the subject of an arranged marriage and will not have much choice in the actual wedding itself."

Paul smirks slightly at your snarky reply, seeming to enjoy your spirited response.

"You know how it goes. it is all for the sake of appearances," he says, his tone tinged with irony. "The bride must be pampered and celebrated, even if she has little desire for the event itself."

"And what of the groom?" You ask

Paul pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering with amusement. "The groom may be equally disinterested, but he is expected to go along with the rituals and play his part. The pressure is not so great, but nonetheless a burden of duty must be shouldered."

Paul pauses, his eyes glancing beyond your shoulder, towards the swarm of servants. He gestures to them,

"But they seem quite dedicated to doing their part, so how about you let them continue to spoil you for another moment. And in the meantime, I will show you something"

he takes your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. You are surprised at the gentleness, the sudden shift in his demeanor. you allow him to lead you away from the flurry of activity, following him down a labyrinth of hallways and through several doors.

After a few minutes of walking, you arrive in a spacious office. Paul releases your arm and gestures for you to take a seat. He sits down opposite you, his expression grave and serious.

"This is something that cannot wait until the actual ceremony,” he says. "it is important that we discuss it now."

Paul's manner shifts as his mother enters the room. His expression becomes more formally composed, and he rises to his feet, offering her a slight nod.

Jessica responds in kind, the two offering silent greetings as she moves into the center of the room. You notice a slight softening in her demeanor as her son joins her, as if the two are united in this situation, however difficult it may be.

"You will not be fond of what must be done," Jessica begins

You flinch slightly at her direct statement, prepared for the news that is about to be delivered. But you also trust her wisdom and foresight, hoping that her words will provide some insight or guidance.

You study her face, noting the slight creases around her eyes and mouth, the weariness and stress apparent in her demeanor. She stands in firm control of her emotions, her tone composed and firm.

"Your father is to be charged with the attempted ratification of the Atreides house during his reign as emperor by the Great Houses of the Imperium. As Paul has been foreseen to ascend to take his place they have decided his ploy was an attempt to hoard the throne." She pauses. "He is to be executed shortly after the coronation of you as Empress and Paul as emperor"

The air is suddenly sucked out of your lungs as you feel this bombshell land in your chest.

Your father, charged with treason against the house and facing execution. For all his faults, the emperor was still your father, he shaped your life and protected you from the horrors of court life.

Your vision blurs, and your ears ring with a buzzing sound. You want to reach out to Paul or Jessica, but your limbs feel stiff and numb.

"I know this is difficult", Paul says, his voice soft but steady. "Your father was your father after all. But he had his own agenda, his own aspirations. He never desired for you to succeed him, much less become empress."

"But this changes nothing", paul says, his tone growing firm, conviction in his words despite the tragedy of the situation. "Your father has made his bed, and he must now lie in it. The ceremony will proceed as planned, and we will not allow his actions to stand in the way of our house and our destiny."

You nod, although it is with reluctance and sorrow. but you understand, deep down, that this is the only path forward. Your father may have once loved you in his own way, but he was also a man of ambition and status.

Paul and Jessica exchange a look, their expressions both sympathetic and resolute. Paul releases your hands, moving back to the center of the room.

"We will not let your father's actions deter us from our course. The ceremony will proceed, and you will be crowned as empress of the known universe."

Your breath catches in your throat as you absorb the significance of his words. You are to be the empress of the known universe, but at what cost? Your father, once so feared and powerful, now facing execution at the hands of what once was his Imperium.

You close your eyes, trying to push back against the flood of emotions threatening to sweep you away. You have no say in this matter.

"I understand", you say firmly, though your voice still trembles with grief and shock.

You feel two sets of eyes upon you, observing your response. You sense Paul's firm, almost resolute gaze, his presence a steadying force. Meanwhile, Jessica's eyes are filled with a subtle blend of sympathy and determination.

Her voice breaks the silence, her tone full of both sorrow and resolution. "You will be the greatest empress in the existence of this empire," she declares, the conviction in her voice unwavering. "Your father's legacy will fade as the empire embraces a new future with you. your father will never control you again."

———

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