#and what if I say paul x irulan?! then what?!

[correlie]

Timothée Chalamet as Bob Dylan and Elle Fanning as Sylvie Russo, A Complete Unknown filming

[marsconer]

i don’t know why i find it so hard to believe there was no tension between those two like…i hope the dynamic gets more dynamic in the movie bc

[kasagia]

Dancing With The Devil

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: Your whole life revolved around court intrigues, gaining influence, and extracting the darkest secrets from important nobility. As a woman, there wasn't much you could do or count on. Unless you provide yourself with status and position through a good marriage. You've made your life perfect. You had a complete plan and vision for your future—even after the unexpected loss of your fiancé, you managed to rise up and find another good match—until the Na-Baron decided to interfere with it and ruin everything you had been working for. You were about to find out for yourself that dancing with the devil never led to anything good. Even if the consequences of this come after some time... Warning: kind of royal au!; 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; Inspired by: Bridgerton and "Would've, could've, should've" - Taylor Swift Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

"What do you mean by saying that Paul Atreides is dead?"

"Exactly that." Your mother replies with her typical calm, adjusting the crown on her head in the mirror. "He and his family went on a diplomatic mission to Arrakis. They were attacked by… a group of rebels. More specifically, it was probably Sardaukar, but we all know who benefited more from the death of the Atreides." You shudder at the mere mention of the Harkonnens. However, you still can't get over the shock of the revelation you've just heard.

"It is impossible. They couldn't kill them all, after all... what about Caladan? And the plans of the Bene Gesserit? The Emperor would never…"

"The Emperor is not the same man you knew. As he grows older, he grows not in wisdom but in fear. He is more afraid of maintaining his throne than of the good of the empire. And, as we all know, Paul was his most likely successor. So he killed him before he could kill him." She explains this to you, making sure that her appearance is impeccable. She turns from the mirror and nods to the maid, ordering her to give her a coat in your family's colours and embroidered with the decorations and symbols of your house.

"I... are you just trying to tell me that I don't have a fiancé?"

"Unless you want to marry his corpse, yes, that's what I am trying to say to you from the beginning." Your mother snorts in amusement, watching you as you are still in shock, trying to process this unexpected, terrible news. The shock in you slowly gives way to anger. This wasn't how things were supposed to look.

"Mother, you should know how tragic this situation is. After all, the season is almost over; when will I get any suitors? Should I be without any for a year? And then another one? You know perfectly well that most of the descendants of high families have already announced their courtship. Am I supposed to end up as a spinster?"

"Calm down. The season isn't over yet. Since... Caladan has an unstable political situation, Princess Irulan suggested that we take over the main, final celebrations. All you have to do is dress nicely, present yourself well, and catch whatever poor young men come here." You snort mockingly at her feeble attempts to comfort and reassure you.

"I won't have a better husband than Paul. He was the perfect match! Not ugly, easy to control, filthy rich, only son who was supposed to inherit everything—where will you find me another husband like that?" You ask furiously, more concerned about the consequences of his death for you than the fact that you will never meet your fiancé ever again. You couldn't end up as a spinster. You couldn't marry just anyone, either, or, worse, end up as a mere concubine. You didn't spend all these years beautifying your appearance and studying politics, martial arts, economics, and biological sciences to marry some insignificant idiot from an unknown family and planet.

"It's going to be hard, I won't lie, but we'll get through it. We are Y/L/N. We never give up and always achieve our goals. You're too beautiful, darling, to become a spinster. And too smart to marry some insignificant lord."

"You too were, and yet you ended up with my father."

"I married him out of love and love... love makes us do stupid things. But you are smarter than me. You can do much better, I have no doubt about that. We'll give you a week of mourning before we throw the first party. During this time, we will review... available men. To know who to focus on." You nod, agreeing with her plan. You couldn't immediately rush out to find another suitor when your previous one had just been buried beneath the sands of Arrakis. You had to pretend you were crying for him.

It wasn't like you didn't care about Paul at all. You liked him. He was a good conversation partner and a nobel man. But in this situation, you felt more sorry for yourself. You were left with no fiancé, no suitor, and no other alternative.

And if there was anything worse for a woman in this world than death, it was either infertility or becoming a spinster whom no one paid any attention to. You could have handled every other situation perfectly well, but not such humiliation.

Or at least that's what you thought until you crossed paths with the one and only Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

You stand against the wall, sipping your champagne with probably the sourest expression on your face. The masquerade ball had already started an hour ago and you still couldn't find anyone whose attention you could attract.

You and your mother had looked through... all the possible options, but none of the men who came here were fooled by your sweet swan appearance. And if he did, he proposed after just a few minutes of conversation. You may have been in a desperate situation, but you weren't looking for a desperate man.

Standing against the wall allowed you to take a closer look at the nobles present at the ball. You caught a few rumours and scandalous behaviour—touching too long, stolen kisses, and a few other things—but you didn't feel like thinking about them at all when the vision of your future looked so bleak.

Your bad mood is only fueled by Irulan's presence and how she's clearly having a great time at your funeral. As if she had achieved another one of her many victories. Lucky bitch.

You sigh and place your glass on the tray of a passing servant. You are about to leave the masquerade ball when your attention is caught by a man standing alone on the other side of the room.

His outfit is… unusual. His black coat is finished with sharp metal decorations, making it resemble more of a fancy armour than a classic formal outfit. The black mask completely covers his face and the back of his head, leaving only his full lips and part of his defined jaw to your eyes. 

And you really like those lips. Very much. You decide that today you will test their softness when the stranger's cold blue eyes meet yours. A shiver of excitement runs through you as you imagine the things you could do with this intoxicatingly beautiful man. And maybe it's the alcohol you drank or your pathetic longing to be the centre of someone's attention that makes you feel brave enough to approach him.

As you slowly approach him and look at him closely, you realise what he's disguised as. The black swan. It was so good for you that you decided to be the white one tonight.

However, the man suddenly disappears in the crowd of people. You frown and look around, searching for him, but somehow you can't. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. You freeze when you suddenly feel someone's presence behind you. A shiver of excitement runs down your spine as the man's husky whisper echoes in your ear.

"Looking for someone, my lady?" You turn your head to meet the same icy blue irises up that were watching you from across the room a moment ago.

Goosebumps run through you as his gaze inexplicably hypnotises you. This could be your opportunity; you just had to play your cards well and make him more interested in you. The circumstances and scenery were perfect—downright romantic, like from a book. You just had to make this handsome devil equally enchanted by you. You must have caught his attention if he decided to play with you and chase you to get to you first.

You also need to find out who owns those captivating lips and eyes whose colour rivals the ocean waves. Oh, and how you desperately wanted to immerse yourself in them...

"My lord." You curtsy, turning fully to face him to study him even more carefully. He was tall, with a muscular figure visible under his clothes that you wanted to explore with your fingers. You lick your lips, shifting your gaze back to his, and catch him assessing you with his eyes, just like you had just done with him. "I couldn't help but notice how... coincidentally, we fit together with our choice of outfits."

"Indeed, we do. Although I personally think you would look better in black, little swan." The nickname he gives you and the arrogance in his voice make you snort mockingly, raising an eyebrow at him defiantly as you become even more fascinated by this mysterious man.

"Why is that?"

"You may look like a tiny, innocent bird in this white, pretty dress, but your eyes—your eyes give it all away, my lady. You can try to deceive men with this... undoubtedly beautiful sight for the eyes, but not all of us fall so easily to the false mirage—maybe only lesser men—but you're not desperate enough to seek the attention of a mere duke or count, who would be easily led by you, are you?"

"And who are you to make such bold assumptions?" You ask furiously, glaring at him as he gently strokes the collar of your dress with his fingertip, playing a little with the white feathers that were attached to it. He smirks, his white teeth gleaming dangerously, reminding you of the smile of a wolf before it catches its prey.

"Definitely not a lesser man." He replies, undaunted by your anger. His hand slides from the collar of your dress over your shoulder as he grabs your gloved hand and presses a soft kiss on it, and you can barely keep yourself from closing your eyes and giving in to the pleasant feeling of having his plush, full lips so close and yet so far from your skin. "May I? I believe that this beautiful dress will look better while moving…"

At this point, you should refuse. Thank him for his company and go find a... more suitable one. But you can't deny that he's read you accurately so far and that he's touched a part of you that you haven't shown to anyone. You were too curious to just let him go; you wanted to stay with him longer and see what would come of this acquaintance with him.

So you nod and let him lead you to the dance floor. A few heads turn towards you, but you can't reach anything other than him, and the feeling of his larger hand gently holding yours in a strange way makes your heart flutter slightly.

You feel like he's put a spell on you, and strangely, you don't want to break out of it at all.

His eyes never leave yours. You're almost dizzy from how intensely he's looking at you. He places his hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. He holds you tight enough so that you can feel his touch on you, and it isn't painful for you. He leads you into a dance with incredible grace for a man, spinning you around to the rhythm of the music.

He's so close to you that you can smell his scent, which is as addictive as his burning attention. The smell of anise, musk, and hot spices assaulting your nostrils makes you involuntarily lean towards him, wanting to be as close to him as good manners allow. However, you know that if you spend another few minutes longer in his presence, all your mother's teachings will be forgotten in favour of... getting closer to this compelling man.

"So what do you believe in then? If you don't believe in coincidence? Destiny?" You ask, trying to shake off this strange feeling of loss of control he's giving you.

And you almost fail miserably, barely keeping yourself from blushing as his low chuckle makes you burn even more for him. You had to find some flaw in him—something that would turn you off if you didn't want to lose your mind completely, because for now, everything about this man was sinfully pleasant.

"We create our destiny. Don't you agree?"

"Sometimes things are beyond your control, my lord." You disagree with him, keeping your searching gaze on him as his hands move to your hips.

You bite your bottom lip as he lifts you up in one fluid motion, following the steps of the dance. The ease with which he shifts you and spins you so that your back is against his chest as he sets you down on the floor again makes your cheeks blush as you think of all the ways you could use his large, strong hands. You feel like a horny teenager in her first season. And you don't like it at all.

"And sometimes, all we need to do is take a step and reach out for what is rightfully ours." He whispers in your ear, wrapping his hands around you, never stopping his movements.

You swallow thickly as he places your joined hands on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your bare collarbone. You bite your tongue, trying to hold back a moan when you feel the rough skin of his hands, confirming your suspicions that his toned physique is built from years of training and fighting. This fuels your desire for him even more.

"Possible. But our reputation suffers because of it. You can't escape the eyes of society. No matter how hard you try, my lord." Your eyes fall on the couples dancing around you.

You gasp when he suddenly wraps his arm around your waist and turns you around, forcing you to face him again. You almost bump into his chest, completely unprepared for such a sudden move from him. He gives you a mischievous smirk and a wink, amused at how he managed to catch you off guard and off-balance. You purse your lips, causing his eyes to shift to them.

"Do you know what freedom you can achieve when you throw off the yoke of your reputation? How many opportunities are open to you?" He whispers hoarsely, leaning towards you. You lift your chin, meeting his gaze as your heart beats frantically against your chest. You get the feeling he has in his mind... something much less pure and decent. And you almost trembled in his arms with excitement.

"Do you know how many doors close in front of you? No one wants to associate with a vile person rejected by society."

"Oh, but those nefarious always seem to get their attention, don't you think? They are invited out of sheer curiosity about how they will behave and what exciting and forbidden things they will do. They are the source of the most virulent gossip; you won't deny it, right, little swan?"

"Possible. Are you one of them?" You ask, curious about his identity.

He gives you a mysterious, mocking smirk as he chuckles throatily. He leans down and brushes his lips against your ear. You sigh as his lips press a small kiss to your earlobe, your heart racing as you feel him so close to you. You wait in suspense for what he will do next, completely oblivious to the people around you, who, fortunately, are too busy with themselves to notice what is happening around them. You'd never been so happy about wearing a mask before, even though it was a way to protect your identity and allow yourself... to do a little more in such a public place.

"Oh darling… what if I told you that I'm the worst of them all?" He whispers seductively, biting your ear. You gasp, digging your fingers into his arm, holding on to anything as he plays cruelly with you.

At this point, you should thank him for this dance, turn around, and find another company. But there's something... magnetic about this man that draws you closer and closer to him.

Maybe it's the thrill of the unknown—the excitement of how different this man seems from the rest of the people here. And even though your mind is screaming at you, and rightly so, to back away before you burn yourself with the fire that burns from him, you want to follow him like a moth, desperately wanting to bathe in the glow of these new sensations he is giving you.

So, without thinking about it for a long time, you grab his hand and lead him out of the room. Surprisingly, he obediently follows you, not questioning you as the two of you walk through various corridors. You lead him towards the exit—straight to the palace gardens, where there should be much fewer people who couldn't... overhear you.

You drag him into the maze, taking him to one of the dead ends. Before he can say anything, you lean in and kiss him lustfully. You moan at the feeling of his soft lips caressing yours, and you tighten your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The metal trim of his outfit digs into you, but you ignore the feeling, completely absorbed by the way his tongue slips into your waiting mouth.

Under different circumstances, if it were known to him who you were and there was no mask covering half of your face, you would never have dared to take such a... bold step. But now, with him so close to you and your identity safe under the white feather mask, you moan into his mouth, letting yourself bask in the feeling of desire.

You and Paul... fooled around a few times, but the furthest you went was touching each other. But with this man, the man whose name you didn't know and who was currently sucking the air from your mouth, you felt completely different.

All your nerves were on fire. Every inch of you was begging for his touch and undivided attention. You couldn't help but moan and melt into his hands as he possessively tightened his grip on your hip, pulling you much closer to his body.

Your bodies fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, and you couldn't help but wonder if your souls were also two halves that fit together thoroughly.

Just when you feel like you can't go without air any longer, his mouth stops attacking yours, instead caressing and nipping at the skin of your jaw and moving to your neck.

Suddenly, the corset you're in becomes too tight, and breathing becomes increasingly difficult for you as his lips mark your neck, making your already lust-crazed heart beat faster. You whine, your hands tracing his muscular torso, as you find yourself in extreme conflict. You know you should push him away and that you shouldn't let him mark you so clearly, but on the other hand, he brings you so much pleasure and makes you shiver just from the feeling of his lips on your neck. You dread to think what he would do to you if he moved a little further south of your body—if he kneeled in front of you and did to you things you only read about in the privacy of your chamber.

You quickly cover your mouth with your hand as you are about to scream when his teeth dig into your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a clear mark on you. Your eyes widen in shock when you hear a threatening growl from him. His hand grabs yours tightly, removing it from your mouth, and his icy blue eyes flash with anger, giving you a furious glare.

"Hold back your moans and screams one more time, and I will make sure the people in the palace hear you crying because of me, little swan. And believe me, I can make it only pleasant for me, so don't test my patience and mercy and be a good girl for me." He growls, tightening his grip on your hand that he pinned to the hedge behind you.

He kisses you hard, chastisingly, as he takes a step towards you, closing any space between you. Your breasts rub against his chest as he presses against you, and you think you can feel his hardness through the layers of your clothes.

A short gasp escapes you as his hand travels beneath the layers of your dress. His fingers take their time caressing the skin of your legs, slowly climbing up to where you needed to have him as soon as your eyes fell on him. You decide to compromise with him and pull him into a kiss so as not to attract unwanted attention from any of the guests.

You gasp as his fingers brush against your clothed core. His raspy chuckle as he discovers the undeniable flood between your legs makes you blush with embarrassment and anger. Your breathing quickens as you reach out to grab his cock, squeezing him painfully tight for teasing you. A loud moan leaves his lips swollen from kissing, making you want to extract other, equally temptingly beautiful sounds from him.

But before you can do anything, he drops to his knees in front of you and lifts the folds of your white dress. You shiver, feeling his breath between your legs as he takes his time stroking your thighs, caressing them with his soft lips.

You moan as he sucks and bites the skin of your inner thighs, teasing you as he blatantly ignores your needy pussy. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, biting your lip as you try to pull him to your clothed core. He growls while spanking your pussy. You scream at the sudden, burning sensation, your legs shaking, so only his strong hands are keeping you upright.

You tilt your head back, resting it against the hedge, and moan softly as he presses a teasing kiss on your clothed core. His fingers gently slip under your panties, only to rip the fabric off of you in one quick movement.

You sigh as his nose brushes against your folds as he inhales your scent, stuffing your torn panties into his pants pocket. His tongue gently and teasingly tastes your wetness, making you even more frustrated. You push aside the fabric of your dress and take his hand that was exploring the curve of your ass and pull it to your pussy which is screaming for his attention.

His chuckle stimulates your clit, making you moan and pushing your hips into him in a desperate attempt to find a release. He growls angrily at your impatience and grabs your hips in an iron grip, positioning you to his liking and plan.

You hold your breath as his fingers gently enter you, soothing the burning feeling of emptiness inside you. His tongue plays with your clit, sucking every last drop of your juices out of you, as if he's as addicted to your taste and sounds as you are to the feeling of his touch and the way he fills you.

You feel your orgasm building. You close your eyes in blissful relief, allowing yourself to moan, not caring if anyone can hear you. Your fingers dig into his neck. He growls against your pussy as you draw his blood from him and intensifies his ministrations. His fingers move in and out quickly as he sucks on your most sensitive spot, as if he's trying to mark you there and leave you a hickey there.

Your fingers run up his neck. You want to pull his hair—hurt him as much as he hurts you. Your fingertips find their way beneath the black fabric of his mask covering his head, but when you reach out to grab his hair, you're met with bare skin.

And then everything falls into place in your head.

When the realisation comes to you, you freeze, you lose all feeling, and all you can do is stand there and think about who you let under your dress and between your legs.

Harkonnen. You were being eaten by a fucking Harkonnen, and judging by his body structure, voice, and the guest list you've looked through hundreds of times, by one and only Feyd-Rautha, Na-Barron of Giedi Prime.

You tremble, not at all because of the feeling of how his fingers and tongue work continuously on your orgasm, intensifying your sensations as he lets out soft moans at the taste of you, but because pure terror overwhelms your whole body. You unconsciously tighten the hug on his neck, which only increases the intensity of his… efforts on your wet folds, as he wants to take you over the edge.

You take advantage of the fact that he's too... distracted and push him away from you. You grab the skirt of your dress and run fast, as far away from him as possible. Your heart races as you hear his soft growl before, to your even greater dismay, he chases after you.

You run through a maze, trying to lose Harkonnen among many paths, hoping he will reach a dead end and lose your trail, or at least to find some group of people. After all, he won't be able to do anything to you in front of witnesses—or maybe he could?

You tremble at the thought that the same hands that cut the throats of servants and concubines, hands that killed prisoners in the arena and people in battle, touched you and were the cause of your... your pleasure.

How stupid you were! How could you allow yourself to be seduced by Harkonnen and carried away by your stupid emotions and desires? You mentally curse him, his family, and Paul Atreides, whose death made you have to chase men again to find a suitable husband. And especially you curse how amazing and extraordinary you felt under the touch of this bloodthirsty beast, whose house has been nefarious for centuries.

You run forward, not daring to turn around to see if he's still chasing you. You're so lost in your thoughts and so scared that you accidentally run into someone. You gasp as a hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from falling. You have a heart attack, thinking that it could be him and that he has somehow outsmarted you. But when you look up, you don't see blue irises, but green ones.

"Forgive me, my lord. I didn't mean to..." Your words stop as you take a closer look at the man. He wasn't wearing a mask; he apparently abandoned it when he entered the garden, and you have to say, he's... handsome. Very.

“Of course you didn't mean to. You couldn't see me when you were running so fast, which makes me wonder: From what are you running away, my lady?"

"I... To be honest, I'm running away from my maids. And that ball. It's just… too much excitement for one evening." You lie, quickly making up an excuse.

Obviously, you won't tell him that you're being chased by the horny Harkonnen heir, with whom you were ALONE in the garden. That would be a scandal. Just talking to this man now could be considered that way too... let alone what you allowed Feyd-Rautha to do to you.

"I think so too. Viscount Y/L/N throws good parties, but… they're a little too loud for my liking. Too vibrant." He comments, offering his arm to you. You can't help but smile as you place your hand in the crook of his arm.

Luckily, he leads the two of you in the opposite direction you were running from. You see that his brown and gold mask is tied to his arm, and on his finger he has... the ring of the Luwael family, a close family of Emperor Corrino. You just talked to the emperor's cousin, the pretender to his throne since he has no son.

You can't believe how lucky you are.

"Tell me about it, I've been enduring it since I was 15." You say it jokingly, giggling when you see his eyes widen as he realises he's gossiping about your father, and you think he looks adorable and cute in his state of little panic.

"Lady Y/N Y/L/N?" He asks, shocked. You nod and reach for the ribbon of your mask, removing it. You see his pupils dilate slightly as he takes in your appearance, his cheeks turning pink—whether from embarrassment or lust, you don't know, but you still like his reaction to you. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend…."

"You did not." You interrupt him quickly with a charming smile. "It's... refreshing to be able to talk to someone who has similar opinions and feelings. At least when it comes to those terrible balls."

"Sometimes I feel like they force us to participate just to have something to gossip about later."

"Don't you like gossip?" You ask curiously, raising an eyebrow as you continue your walk through the gardens. You completely forget about Harkonnen and your... mistake, as you are trying to gain the interest of the man next to you.

This could be your big chance.

True, you heard that he and Irulan were to marry so that power would remain in Corrino's hands, but... if you make him want you, no one will stop him from taking you as his wife.

"I don't like court intrigues. The way ladies throw themselves at lords just to gain a higher title."

"Maybe for you men, marriage is more than just a financial transaction, but unfortunately for most of us, it's all about stability. The security of our lives is the most important thing here, and love—love is a complex and difficult thing; most often, unfortunately, it is only in books. Won't you agree?"

"Possible. But I would rather my wife love me than the power I give her." You smile in understanding. So you have a romantic in front of you... You have to adjust your role well, so you keep your true thoughts to yourself. You innocently hang your head, feigning uncertainty.

"This is completely understandable. Don't all of us dream about it? Have someone of your own, trusted, to whom you can confide all your dreams and fears without being afraid of being laughed at or ignored?" You ask, turning your head to look at him as you ask him your final question.

By the way he watches you with a burning light in his eyes, you know you've come to the right place and have successfully sold your image of a weak, defenceless woman dreaming of a real courtly romance. Pathetic. However, you will do anything to get a husband, you'll even pretend to be a helpless lamb.

"Yes... I assume that's what all of us want. Maybe expect the Harkonnens." You laugh at his joke, feeling very awkward at the same time as the memory of a certain Harkonnen's lips comes back to you.

You curse yourself for how damn good he made you feel. They may not have known love, but if they were all like Na-Baron, they knew damn well how to please their women—a thing you couldn't say about all the lords of the great houses.

You and Lord Luwael walk around the garden for a while before you both decide to head back to the ballroom. You put on your masks, and the man escorts you back, all the while being a perfect gentleman, including dancing, which he later asked you for.

You have fun maintaining your image as a hopeless romantic who wants to find true love and break away from the courtly conventions that overwhelm you—a perfect match for the emperor's heir. He doesn't tell you his identity until the end of the evening, but you don't mind. You know you've charmed him. And that he will seek your company at the next events of this season.

What you don't know is that certain icy-blue irises are watching you two furiously as you are led back into the ballroom by Lord Luwael. You also don't know that the Harkonnens are persistent and ruthless people who can wait years for their plans to be implemented, and that their devilish Na-Baron is truly the worst of them all...

Or that Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen decided a long time ago that you would become his wife. It didn't matter what he had to do or how to achieve his goal.

In the future, you will often regret this night and dancing with the Harkonnen devil. Very often.

~9 years earlier~

“They say he killed his mother. That his uncle and brother are training him to become a killer beast. That he is now devoid of any emotion except anger and bloodlust, and Paul told me that he apparently even has concubines.” Irulan gossips with you as the two of you watch in the distance as Feyd-Rautha trains in the courtyard.

The emperor invited several greater families to discuss something. You weren't too interested about it. Your mother simply packed your things and said you were leaving for a week. But you were happy. You had the opportunity to play with other nobles' children and it was definitely a nice break from listening to your parents' constant arguments.

"Nonsense. He's our age. Let's ask him if he wants to play with us." You decide and stand up to walk over to the hairless boy. Irulan grabs your hand tightly and pulls you back to your hiding place behind the pillar.

"He is a Harkonnen, Y/N. They don't play." She says and leans out to look at him. He swings his sword several times, making several quick movements and turns.

"But he isn't like them. He grew up on Lankiveil. Besides, I still remember him when he had blonde hair. And Harkonnens have no hair, so..."

"Baron made him his heir. Of course he had to... make himself look like them." She interrupts you, wrinkling her nose in disgust. You shiver slightly at the mere mention of the baron and nod thoughtfully.

"Pity. His blonde curls were pretty." You comment and lean out to look at him. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with him. He looks at you coldly, not moving an inch. You wave at him, giving him a hesitant smile. He stares at you for a while longer before he turns on his heel, his back to you, as he continues his training as if nothing had happened. "Still, we should have asked him. He looks quite lonely."

"NO. I won't be nice to him. If my mother gives a son to my father and I have to marry this… Harkonnen, I will throw myself from the tower."

"Why from the tower?" You ask, confused, frowning at the girl.

"I don't know. This is what the main characters in books do when something terrible happens to them. They say they will throw themselves off the tower."

"I prefer it when they fight the dragon." You say this, glancing at the boy again. You don't know why, but something just wouldn't let you walk away and leave him, although you really want to play with Paul, Irulan, and the other kids. You find yourself much more wanting to play with this strange boy.

You frown when you see him accidentally cut his hand. He doesn't cry like Paul did when you slammed his hand in the door. Instead, he puts his mouth on the wound and sucks out the blood. He tears off a piece of his clothes, wraps it around his hand, and continues training.

And somehow, it makes you make a decision.

"Y/N! What are you doing?!" Irulan hisses at you as you pull your hand from her grasp and take a step towards the courtyard.

"Fighting the dragon. Wish me luck." You answer, and without looking back, you head towards the training boy. His pale, bald head almost gleams in the sun, and you can't help but wonder if his lack of hair makes him less tolerant of the sun's heat.

When you are close to him, you stand still, not wanting to accidentally impale yourself on his sword. He notices you out of the corner of his eye, stops swinging his sword, and turns towards you, looking at you closely.

"Hi." You say as you wave at him.

"Lady Y/N." His voice is slightly hoarse, as if he had sandpapered it. You frown, surprised by such a formal greeting. Usually, only adults greet you like that.

"Um... my lord?" You answer hesitantly and shake your head, trying to ignore how strange he's acting. "Do you want to join us? We are playing hide and seek." You say, pointing your thumb at the pillar you and Irulan were hiding behind a few seconds ago.

"It's fun for kids." He replies dismissively and starts swinging his sword again.

"Are you not one?" You ask in surprise, still looking at him. He growls in annoyance and turns towards you, giving you a furious glare as you interrupt him.

"No. I am a man. And men are supposed to fight in battles and train to become stronger."

"Why?" You ask and frown at him, following him as he walks over to the fountain where he left his water and towel. He wipes the beads of sweat from his head, giving you a confused gaze.

"To keep their women and country safe." He replies like it's an obvious thing everyone should know.

"Well... do you have any in danger right now?" This time it's him who furrows his hairless eyebrows at your weird question. He thinks for a moment, observing you, and then shakes his head.

"No."

"Great! Then you can play with us." You say it excitedly and grab his hand. He hisses under your touch, and it's only then that you realise you've grabbed his injured hand. You want to apologise, but his mad glare quickly silences you.

"I already told you that I am not going to play any stupid game, woman!"

"Hey! I am not a woman, I am a girl! And you are a boy, so stop pretending to be an adult and play with us." You respond to his furious growl with your own and shoot him your evil glare. But instead of caring about your outburst and maybe even complying with your demands, he just laughs, making you even angrier.

"I will do whatever I want. You won't order me, little bunny. It doesn't matter how cute you look when you're angry." He mocks you and turns his back on you. You stamp your foot, furious at his behaviour and the fact that he is dismissing you.

"I doubt that sitting all alone is what you prefer." You say, unconsciously hitting his sweet spot. You see him tense as he reaches for his sword. However, his attitude quickly turns indifferent again as he turns his head to glance at you briefly.

"You should go."

"Why?"

"Before anyone notices me with you. Why are you asking so many questions?" He asks irritably, and he starts his training again.

Even though he tries to ignore you, you can see him glancing at you every few moments as you continue to stand there, watching as he swings his sword and cuts through the air.

"Is that yours?" You ask him curiously, sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Yes. My uncle gave it to me for my 10th birthday." He replies proudly and stops for a moment to talk to you. You smile, staring longingly at the metal blade.

"My gave me dolls. Again. It's so boring." You grumble, keeping your eyes on his weapon. "How do you play with it?"

"I don't play. I train." He replies in annoyance and rolls his eyes at you. But you can see in his eyes that he's not mad at you at all. On the contrary, he wants to continue talking to you. That's why you act more boldly.

"Whatever. How do you train with it? Can you show me?"

"These are not things for a woman." His rejection doesn't dampen your excitement at all. On the contrary, you want to train with him even more, to do something that your mother forbade you to do a long time ago.

"Well, that's a good thing that I am a girl, then. Can you show me? Please? My dad wanted to train me, but my mom didn't agree. She is stupid." You complain, causing him to chuckle. You smile widely, thinking that he looks better when he's cheerful and not with that dark and grim scowl.

"She is. You should know how to protect yourself. Your father won't be fighting for your safety forever. And with that attitude, I doubt you will ever find a husband to protect you."

"Good. I don't want one. Can you show me then?" You ask, ignoring the fact that he's trying to insult you. You look up at him with your beautiful, pleading eyes and stick out your lower lip.

He watches you for a moment, frowning as he feels his heart beat faster when you give him that cute look he simply can't resist. He sighs, barely taking his eyes off of you, and nods.

"Fine. But only if you stay away from me after that."

"Okay." You reply excitedly and nod enthusiastically. He smiles slightly and stands behind you, helping you maintain a good stance with your sword.

"Hold it like that." He says, adjusting your grip on the handle.

"It's so heavy! How can you hold it and move?" You almost collapse under the weight of the sword, but you try to hold it the way he shows you. He laughs huskily, making you smile.

"You can get used to it with time. Now. I will show you some basic movements."

He trains with you and shows you some tricks and moves. And although he was rough and rude towards you at first, over time you both enjoyed each other's company.

You manage to make him laugh a few times, and each time you count it as a small victory considering how grumpy he was. He's obviously extremely fascinated with fighting and seems more than willing to teach you a few things. You think this "training" is fun—at least until you accidentally injure yourself.

"Ouch!" You scream and almost drop his sword. Luckily, he caught it quickly, before you could cut your foot. He furrows his hairless eyebrows and takes your injured hand in his.

"You're as clumsy as you look, little bunny." He mumbles and brings your hand to his mouth.

He licks up your blood like he did with his and tears off a piece of your dress. He wraps the cloth around the wound and looks closely at your hand. You frown, disgusted that he's licking your blood, but you don't move. Well... not until you realise this insult.

"Hey! You hurt yourself a while ago, too. Besides, it's my first time." You are angry at him, pulling your hand away and crossing your arms.

"Because I had an unexpected audience that was talking passionately about me behind my back."

"Oh… I'm sorry. It was mean." You respond contritely, not realising how he must have felt when everyone around him assumed the worst about him and didn't want to be around him.

"I got used to it." He replies in an emotionless tone and looks away from you, almost looking like a beaten dog, even though he tries hard not to show it. And you feel terribly sorry for him.

"You shouldn't. You are cool. When you take the stick out of your ass." You joke, and he chuckles. You smile at him, but his good mood is suddenly interrupted by something. His face turns serious, his muscles tense, and you only hear the growl of some animal before Feyd pushes you behind him.

A large hunting dog runs up to you. He lunges at Feyd, knocking him down. The dog bites him, and Feyd screams in rage. He tries to plunge his sword into the dog's side, but it clamps its jaws on the Feyd's arm, immobilising him.

You gasp in dismay. You reach for a rock and throw it at the dog, trying to distract it. You succeed, but before you can think about what to do next, the dog lunges at you.

You land on your back and use your elbows to get up, but the dog is quickly above you. He growls, foam dripping from his muzzle onto you, and you can only stare in horror into his eyes. You gasp when, just as he is about to sink his teeth into you, Feyd's sword suddenly pierces the dog.

You lie on the ground, unable to move, as you feel the animal's blood dripping onto your dress. Feyd pushes the dog off of you and gives you a worried look.

"Are you hurt?" He asks and offers you his hand. He helps you get back on your feet, looking for any wounds. You shake and shiver as you look at the dead animal. Feyd notices this and places his hand on your cheeks, making you look into his eyes as he turns your back to the animal's body.

He opens his mouth to repeat the question, but freezes when you throw yourself into his arms and hug him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you sob softly. Feyd holds you tentatively and strokes your hair, clumsily trying to calm you down.

"Thank you." You mumble into his neck. He doesn't say anything. He just holds you, letting you cry into him and calm him down. When you finally do, you move away from him. You wipe tears away with the sleeve of your dress, which makes Feyd's heart clench uncomfortably.

He doesn't understand what you're doing to him. He should have felt disgusted by you and been as far away from you as possible. He should have rejected you the moment you threw yourself at him, but... somehow he couldn't deny you this moment of comfort. The mere thought of you seeking comfort from him made his heart flutter a little. And you smelled nice, too. Like ocean. Like Lankiveil. Like home.

You represented everything his uncle wanted him to forget. You were... soft. Too soft. And nice. He should have wanted to hurt you, not comfort you, but all he wanted to do was hold you and protect you from the cruel world.

"Y/N!" Your father's scream reaches you.

The man pulls you further away from Feyd and looks at him warily before his worried gaze shifts to you and your eyes, bloody from crying. A moment later, the Baron and the Emperor join you. The men look at you and the dead dog, frowning.

"My best hunting dog..."

"Feyd-Rautha, what is this about? What have you done?" Her uncle's threatening growl makes Feyd tense. A shiver runs through him, and he opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him to it, leaving your father's arms and standing bravely in front of the baron and emperor.

"He saved me."

"What?"

"The dog broke off the leash. It… it would have bitten and torn me if Na-Baron hadn't killed it." The men look at each other, assessing the situation. Feyd watches you carefully, ignoring the surprised, frightened looks from the emperor and your father as you tell them that he killed a nearly three-foot dog.

"I... thank you, Na-Baron. For protecting my daughter." Your father nods to him, but he still has an iron grip on your arm. As if he were afraid that Feyd would turn out to be a worse, more dangerous beast to you than the dog that wanted to bite you to death.

"You're welcome, Viscount Y/L/N." He replies, shifting his gaze from you to your father for a moment.

Your dad is not waiting for the Emperor and the Baron to let you two go. He simply grabs your hand and leads you back to the palace with him. As if he wanted you to be as far away from the Harkonnens as possible.

"You shouldn't let just any dog ​​bite you. You let me down, boy."

You feel sad when you hear his uncle's words. You turn your head, making eye contact with the hairless boy. You give him a small, reassuring smile and wave at him. You see him purse his lips and shift his gaze back to his uncle, who is scolding him. However, he looks much less tense than before.

Unknowingly to you, you gained a secret admirer that day. An admirer who was going to make him the only man who would have the privilege of protecting you and holding you in his arms. He promised himself that this would happen, even if he had to bring hell into the world.

~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

Dearest, gentle readers… did you miss me?

The opening of a new season has never been a more exciting and long-awaited event. The great families were impatiently waiting for more scandals delivered by this year's suitors. And this author is bursting with anticipation for the future events and gossips of this season.

This year, we have several unexpected debuts that this author will be watching very closely. However, I am convinced that the undivided attention of the masses will probably be stolen by the Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who this year decided to take part in the great search for a wife.

Lord, take care of the future Baron's chosen one so that she can live up to the expectations and life among the Harkonnens.

However, this author wishes the Na-Baron all the best on his birthday and believes that we all look forward to the opening of the season on Giedi Prime, especially to his signature fight in the arena, which will be the main part of Na-Baron's birthday celebration.

But we also cannot forget about the stars of the previous season, whose story is not even close to the end yet.

Lady Y/N Y/L/N did not decide to plunge into great mourning after the tragic death of her fiancé, Paul Atreides. Lord Luwael was charmed by the young honourable at the end of the previous season, and Lady Y/N turned out to be not indifferent to his courtship. Surprising? A little bit. Unreasaonbale? Of course not. After all, why stand faithfully by a corpse of a duke when you can stick by the side of a potential Emperor?

But this author is deeply disappointed that we didn't get to hear any wedding bells at the end of the previous season. Maybe these two will surprise us all this year, and we will see a real royal wedding that we haven't been able to witness for ages.

We are all looking forward to the ball in honour of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's birthday, which will be opening this year's season. And this author can't wait to bring all the gossip and scandal to our curious readers. Who knows who will win this great race and have a good match this season?

Happy hunting to all the future brides!

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (II)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: the na-baron takes an interest in you

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.8k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

“...humiliating…disgusting…barbaric…”

You flinch as your father’s anger roars. Nothing you do will ever please him. 

“What do you think will be said of me? Of how I raised you?”

“You didn’t,” you want to say. Instead you apologize. Harkonnens are animals you rationalize. They were testing to see if you were prey and you had to show them you aren’t. 

“And in doing so you’ve tainted yourself.”

It’s like a slap. The cut on your hand still stings from the solution they’d scrubbed on it. It had only been a handshake. It was a show of strength. He’d understand that sentiment if there was a cock swinging between your legs. He doesn’t stay to say more, leaving you to nurse the wounds alone. 

A feast is held that night. A welcome to your guests. You're squeezed into a new outfit, one you've been told your father deems more appropriate than the one you’d had chosen. It’s the first time he’s ever taken the initiative to dress you. It gives you no pleasure to recognize the dress as one of his courtesan’s.

“Your dress is lovely,” says the Princess Irulan when she sees you again after the food had been taken away and the party mills about in the Hall. She takes your arm and strolls with you between the bodies. The familiarity between you is striking. She speaks of her sisters, the planet she calls home. You tell her of your studies. It seems you share a fondness for the same authors.

It’s odd to feel her warm smile. There were few women in your life. Maids mostly, though they rotated frequently. A few of the castle’s regular entertainers when allowed. You don’t count the courtesans who keep your father company. 

“Princess,” Paul greets her with a bow, intruding on your talks of taking an excursion around the palace grounds. Those green eyes turn on you and sweep across your form. “My lady, you look stunning.” He takes your hand again and bends to kiss it while you try not to flinch. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Irulan says with more kindness than deserved. “We were just making plans to visit the lake the day after tomorrow.”

The way his face lights up has your excitement plummeting. He’s eager to join. You stay as long as you can stand his conversation. It’s not long. You excuse yourself, claiming the need to check on the rest of your guests, and extract your arm from the princess’. You accept a kiss on your cheek from her before disappearing into the crowd.

You have no desire to mingle more. Whatever consequences you’ll face when your father finds out about you slipping out don’t worry you. His anger would have found something to punish you for anyways. Cool air greets you as you step into the gardens. It’s not your favorite place, but the training yard is too far in this getup. 

“It’s rude to leave your own party.”

Hair raises on your arms, but you don’t turn to the voice. “You have my apologies for my rudeness then.”

“And it is unwise to keep your back to an armed man.”

“What fun is life without a little risk, na-Baron?”

He chuckles at that. There’s quiet footsteps as he paces behind you like a panther appraising a potential meal. You keep your eyes forward. “You and the princess seem to have bonded quite quickly.” He’s been watching you.

“She is easy to be fond of.” 

Shadow swallows you as he steps behind you. Breath ruffling your hair he asks, “But Paul Atriedes is not?” He’s been watching you closely. A fingernail scraps down your bare arm. “Do you resent him for what he’s stolen from you?”

You spin.

The black void that is his smile is wide on his face. Humiliation sears your throat. How many people know of your father’s deepest shame? Feyd-Rautha seems to revel in that silent moment. Your pain brings him pleasure. 

“I must return to my guests,” you say and step around him. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you're prepared. You evade, pull your arms taut to your chest, and dart down the hall as his laugh taunts. The respect you built with the Harkonnens was nothing more than delusion. It doesn’t matter what teeth you bare or claws you present, any show of weakness will be exploited. 

You round a corner and nearly crash into a guard. The same one from earlier. He questions if you’re hurt, eyes darting the corridor behind you. He seems to find nothing. You agree with his warnings now. It’s best you don’t wander alone.

You wake unrested. Images of blackened teeth, slicing blades, and hoarse laughter haunt you into the morning hours. You’ve made the decision to retain a personal guard. The choice in who is easy. 

You spend the day reviewing everything for your coming of age in a couple of days. Your father is supposed to do it, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s tedious but the hours of distraction are welcome. And it gives you reason to decline Paul’s lunch invitation. It’s only when the sun is past its peak that you’re forced to hand over the remaining duties to your grumbling father. The swordmaster demands your time to refine a performance you still can’t rationalize. Who is it for?

Your father? A man who despises any display of femininity from you? The princess? In some attempt at an apology for a marriage that can now no longer be? Or House Atreides? The ones who’d stolen your destiny before you’d been a seed in your mother’s womb? This artistry certainly isn’t for the brutes of House Harkonnen.

The music halts half way through the fourth run. “Your timing is wrong,” the swordmaster says and has you begin again. 

By time he’s satisfied, your legs burn and your patience is worn thin. You can only glower at your guard, Fandral you’ve learned is his name, as he compliments the dance. “I like the story it tells,” he defends. 

“There’s not a story.” You massage the shoulder of your sword arm. The ache isn’t unwelcome, but the cause is frustrating. The time would have been better spent actually training.

“All art tells a story,” he says.

You scoff. “And what’s the story? I go crazy and start fighting air?”

“You can see it that way, but I think there’s more nuance.” He eyes the girls as you hand off the swords as if expecting one of them to run you through. “It’s the story of a girl turning into a woman.”

A laugh erupts from you. It’s a fitting story for your coming of age, at least. He tries to explain his reasoning. The symbolism of the first sword as the first menstruation, the second as the final years of youthful rebellion, and the end is the acceptance of the new role as a woman. You don’t quite believe it.

There’s no dreams of black teeth or the bite of blades that night. This nightmare is of your mother. Her face unmoving. Silent as you scream. She never moves, but she’s forever out of reach. Then she’s gone and you’re left gasping in the dark alone. 

“This is beautiful,” Paul says in awe as he stares out over the lake.

It’s difficult to not let every word out of his mouth annoy you. You remind yourself he didn’t steal anything from you. His mother did. “You should see it at sunrise.”

He tears his gaze off the water. “I’d like that.” He says it so earnestly you feel you’re missing something. 

“As would I,” Irulan says. You turn your head to look at her on your otherside, but her eyes remain focused on the scenery. 

“And I,” the Harkonnen rasps in your ear.

His addition to the excursion had been as unexpected as it was unwanted. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a day by the water. Even now, he’s at odds with the world around him. His stark white skin and ghastly black clothes unsettling out amongst the colors. You doubt he truly wants to see the beauty of first light. 

“Another day,” you say. It’s not a promise. 

You only plan to stay for an hour at most, enjoying a light lunch under your favorite tree, but Paul asks about going out on the lake. There’s only a small canoe available on such short notice, but it’s enough. Irulan has no desire to get on the water and says she’d prefer to ask Feyd-Rautha about the Spice harvesting on Arrakis. You aren’t keen on leaving her with him, but she insists and there’s guards to keep her safe.

Paul tries to play the gentleman and offers you his hand once he’s in the canoe, but he’s unsteady and nearly tips it over. You return his apologetic smile as you hear hoarse, barking laughter from the tree.

He’s inquisitive as you row out of sight. About your studies, arts you partake in, foods you enjoy. He even asks about your favorite color. You try to respond in kind, but he doesn’t leave you much time to catch your breath between answers let alone ask your own questions. It’s frustrating but you smile and bear it.

“What’s that?” 

Blinking at him confused, you follow his gaze. A few meters from the shoreline was a small marble pavilion. It’s overgrown with vines, graying from the accumulation of dirt and grime. You’ve forgotten it was here. It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth when you speak. “Just an old pavilion.”

You let him take the canoe further for a while longer, before turning it back. You don’t look at the pavilion when you pass it again. It’s a relief to come back into view of the others. The canoe floats to stop beside the small dock. Fandral is there waiting, his arm extended. But Paul stands too quickly and the canoe sways. Your hand brushes Fandral’s outstretched one for a moment, but you tilt the other way and spill into the frigid water. 

It's not deep. Once you have bearings you’re able to stand and your head breaks through the surface. You take in a deep, shuddering breath. There’s a commotion beside you. Paul’s head pops out and sprays more water in your face.

Someone’s speaking, but there's a river flowing in your ears that makes it impossible to understand. It's a difficult walk to the dock. Your dress is heavy and the water slows your steps. An arm reaches out to you and you take it to help pull yourself up. 

Feyd-Rautha stares down at you. Not with a smile. There’s no amusement on his face. There's something new in his eyes you don’t recognize. It takes Fandral’s interference to release you from the intensity of his gaze. The guard shrugs off the jacket of his uniform and drapes it around your shoulders.

Irulan frets despite your multiple assurances you’re fine. It wasn’t deep. There was no danger. You’re wet, that’s all. Paul apologizes over and over and over again. “It was an accident,” you say in hopes of appeasing his guilt. You want Paul Atreides to leave you alone.

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[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Couldn't wait, I had to post it lol. I hope you'll like it. Sorry for any typos. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉) Don't forget to leave a comment.

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.417K

Chapter 3

Chapter Two ‘’Forcibles’’

The boy with pure eyes had grown into a tall muscular man with menace in his orbits. ‘’May I?’’ he asked not leaving his gaze from Pyramus, it wasn’t a request, it was an order and Pyramus who was coming from a small house couldn’t say no. Without a word he let go of Y/N, she felt empty. She was about to object, maybe excuse herself to rest but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen acted quickly, like a snake he placed his hand on the small of her back and held her hand, she had no choice but to place her hand on his tense shoulder. His eyes so blue, ‘’How long has it been?’’ he asked, his boy voice was gone and classical Harkonnen tone made its home. Manly. ‘’I truly don’t remember.’’ She replied with a flat tone, couldn’t do anything but let him lead the dance. It had been only a minute and Y/N had every information she needed;

Predator

Dominant

Show off

His grip was strong, maybe he was sending a clear message to other houses. Y/N didn’t want to care but her Bene Gesserit training made it impossible not to care. ‘’You wound me.’’ He mocked. He was much taller than Pyramus. She had to look up to meet his icy blue gaze. Y/N noticed the looks they got, a Harkonnen is dancing with an Atreides…. Outrageous.

‘’I see you become a witch like your mother.’’ His tongue was a whip, was he trying to get a reaction out of her?

‘’I’ve heard you become a beast.’’ She was quick to answer, she felt the grip on her back tightened. Did she stroke a nerve? Good.

‘’If we were in Giedi Prime I would have your tongue.’’ He was amused and it made her more angry, ‘’Proves my point.’’

She noticed Irulan and Paul’s questioning look, they seemed shocked and concerned for Y/N. She gave them a small smile.

She felt like a black cobra snake swallowing her whole, Feyd-Rautha made sure to press her close to him, he wasn’t gentle like Pyramus, she looked but couldn’t see him, ‘’Looking for someone?’’ he sounded annoyed, Y/N heard how his mood changes quickly and she didn’t have time for an ugly scene. ‘’My friends. I assume you’re not familiar with the concept.’’ She thought maybe detesting Harkonnens were genetic. Feyd laughed hard which attracted stares around them, they were mostly concerned for Y/N Atreides. Up close, for a split second she saw that innocent boy but he disappeared.

The music ended and she excused herself, before she left Na-Baron grabbed her wrist, she turned in shock, what was he doing? He leaned and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, the kiss felt so soft she couldn’t believe it was coming from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. She bowed in courtesy and got away from his grip, she could feel his icy blue orbits on her back, stabbing her.

Irulan came to chat with her, ‘’What was that about?’’ Irulan didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention but she wasn’t the only one who witnessed that. ‘’What do you mean?’’ Y/N asked drinking her champagne, cold liquid made her more relaxed, ‘’Feyd-Rautha ate you with his eyes.’’ Irulan signed with her hands, didn’t want pointy ears to hear. ‘’He is an intense man. That’s all.’’ She signed back.

The night was too long for Y/N’s liking. Since she was a lady she had to stand by her family and talk to other houses about spice, politics, etc. She needed some air.

Y/N chose a balcony at the back, front ones were occupied, she inhaled deeply, her hands on the stone railings, ‘’Here you are.’’ Pyramus’s soft voice made her calm. They hugged, he immediately tried to kiss her but Y/N had to be careful, she moved her head and Pyramus’s thin lips landed on her cheek. He huffed in annoyance, ‘’How long we have to hide in the shadows?’’ he loved to whine. ‘’Soon I shall tell my family.’’ Y/N kept mustering up her courage and loosing it the last minute. It wasn’t going to be easy. Pyramus held her hands, ‘’Be mine, they can’t say anything then.’’

‘’I’m already yours.’’ She was confused,

‘’Be mine… fully.’’ His dark eyes looking for answers. ‘’Oh,’’ Y/N understood. ‘’I don’t know. We should head back.’’ She changed the topic. Before she could leave Pyramus didn’t let go of her hands, ‘’Think about it, please.’’

Y/N Atreides could hear the whispers; ‘’Did you see?’’

‘’Poor girl.’’

‘’They seemed a perfect match, how odd.’’

‘’Na-Baron seems interested…’’

She only held her head high, pretended like she was deaf. Long night came to an end, she felt so tired running from unwanted company, the Harkonnen boy. Her father had to talk to them, Y/N managed to ignore them.

Tossing and turning in her bed with questions in her busy mind she bolted to her feet. The palace was quiet, guests were fast asleep. Y/N wanted to talk to someone, someone who would understand.. she wore her white satin robe and left her bed chamber. Her family were staying at the guest wing, she knew Paul would be awake. Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls, glowglobes were on the walls, giving a dim light to the corridors, her Bene Gesserit training made her stop, someone was following her, she calmed her mind.

‘’Why so hasty?’’ a rough voice echoed behind her back. She turned to face the owner of the voice. Feyd-Rautha.

‘’I could ask you the same thing, my Na-Baron.’’ Her heart beat got faster as he approached hands in his back. His manner was predatory, observing his prey. His tunic was thin and loose, ‘’Why are you wandering so late at night, little dove?’’ pet name made her blood rise but she had to keep her calm. ‘’I don’t see why it is-‘’ he was circling her now, ‘’your business.’’ Feyd came to stop in front of her which made her look up to meet his eyes. He liked having the height advantage, he could sense her fear, so delicious. ‘’Witches and their secrets…’’ he leaned and whispered to her face, his breath hot. Y/N wanted to run away and hide from him but something in her told her that no matter what he would find her.

‘’I’m good at revealing secrets.’’ His left hand rose, his forefinger tracing her arm covered in satin, both of them felt the electricity. His eyes travelled on her chest and find their place on her eyes again. ‘’How is Pyramus?’’

Y/N had to be extremely careful, or her house’s honor could be at stake. ‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about Na-baron.’’ Her tone flat yet Feyd noticed her posture change. As if she was going into a trial by combat. Deep down he wondered how would it feel to be loved like this, he could feel the rise of jealousy… a member of an insignificant house could achieve her love so easily? No. he would not allow it. A sinister plan ran in his dark mind.

She wanted to wipe that arrogant smile on his face, ‘’I shall bid you good night.’’ With that she headed back to her room. Whenever she wanted to open up about Pyramus something would stop her…

When the morning came with its shiny sun and fresh smell of flowers she was having breakfast with her family. Padishah Emperor Shaddam made majority of the house leave and announced that after breakfast he would announce his decision.

‘’You seem upset my love, is everything all right?’’ Duke Leto asked gently, she hadn’t touched the food on her golden plate, she looked around, no one but her family. ‘’I’m in love with someone.’’ She unraveled, feeling the years of burden leaving her delicate shoulders. Leto and Paul were smiling but her mother’s face didn’t move a muscle. ‘’Who is the lucky gentleman?’’ Leto asked, ‘’Pyramus, from house-‘’

Jessica cut her short, ‘’That house?! Have you lost your mind?’’ Jessica knew that Reverend Mother had something else planned for Y/N. Bene Gesserit has been working for this union for years. ‘’Let’s not lose our temper.’’ Leto warned Jessica with a calm tone. ‘’They are a small house, it is true. If he is good enough for my daughter he is good enough for us.’’ He finished. ‘’Excuse me.’’ Everyone thought Jessica was leaving in anger but she was about to send a message to Reverend Mother an change the whole course of Y/N’s future.

Harkonnens were having breakfast together, Feyd-Rautha was so fed up with his obese uncle’s eating that he lost his appetite. Rabban was in his normal self, quiet and tense. ‘’I wonder who will be the princess’s husband.’’ Rabban said curiously, was he hoping? Feyd-Rautha was seated away from them, watching them like a hawk. He knew well that Shaddam would never take that risk, to send his one and only daughter to the hellhole called Giedi Prime? Not in a million years. ‘’One way or another he has to satisfy us.’’ Their uncle spoke with full mouth, Feyd had to look away, he could feel his bile coming up to his throat. He drank his wine to suppress. ‘’What do you think uncle?’’ Rabban asked, he kept trying to impress their uncle and failed miserably. Baron’s fat fingers were shiny with the bacon’s juice he was eating, ‘’I believe we won’t leave until we get something.’’

Their Mentat Piter de Vrives knocked on the door and walked in, ‘’My Baron, Emperor is expecting you and your nephews to the throne room.’’

Baron laughed, ‘’We shall be there.’’

The throne room was packed with lords and ladies that remained, including Reverend Mother Helen. Y/N didn’t remember seeing her last night’s ball. Strange. Y/N Atreides and her family arrived early, Padishah Emperor Shaddam spoke with her father Duke Leto in private. Behind the golden throne there was a door which opened to a small room where Shaddam’s office took place. When Duke Leto came back his face held grim, he refused to look at anyone but the Emperor, was that resentment? Emperor was seated on his golden throne which had colorful ornaments, on his right much smaller and silver throne was placed and Irulan was sitting on it. Looking like a statue, she was a strong woman. Reverend Mother was at Shaddam’s left, whispering into his ear. She was covered in black, just like Harkonnens.

Y/N noticed how old Shaddam got, every child at one point in their lives come to the realization of their parents’ old age. Emperor was a second father to her, a sudden whip to her heart she focused her eyes on the floor to prevent herself from crying. In order to keep her racing mind busy she looked around to see the remained houses. Pyramus was right there, she waved at her and Y/N waved back. He had a colorful suit, just like his personality. Pyramus and other low class houses were on the left side of the room, other old and powerful houses were on the right. Everyone watched the way Harkonnens entered, they were the last one to arrive. Baron Vladimir was a man of show off, he loved to show his power given any chance. Baron was at the front, Rabban and Feyd following behind, when Y/N saw Feyd-Rautha, her mind immediately went to last night’s events.

‘’Does he know me and Pyramus?’’ to be the first one to reveal the secret she had to tell it to her family this morning but she wasn’t sure anymore. All day Pyramus was after her asking how they reacted, she felt overwhelmed.

She wanted to be brave so Y/N watched them stand close to Atreides, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t shy of eye contact, as usual he was wearing his black suit, with his boots he looked much taller. Y/N watched him eye her up and down, she was wearing a dark blue dress, her arms and neck covered in dark blue laces, her head was tightly rounded like a ball on her head, a thin silver tiara was placed. She kept her posture high, she wasn’t going to shrink because of a Harkonnen, even though Feyd looked as if he could disintegrate her with his shiny blue eyes.

Shaddam rose to his feet, his regal robe sweeping the floor, ‘’Thank you for waiting so patiently,’’ everyone were focused, eager to hear his decision. ‘’I have decided that it was due time to choose a life partner for my one and only daughter. After last night I have consulted my daughter Irulan and the young gentleman that I choose is,’’ Y/N could feel the tension in the room, she slightly observed the room and Shaddam’s subjects were focused on him but one person. Feyd-Rautha, his snake eyes kept finding Y/N. Why did he look like he knew something that Y/N didn’t?

‘’Paul Atreides, from house Atreides.’’ Applauses could be heard, Y/N got positive energy from them last night so she wasn’t wrong. Irulan was her sister and Paul her brother, she knew that they would make each other happy. Paul walked to princes Irulan to kiss her hand. ‘’The wedding shall happen tomorrow.’’ The applauses died down, ‘’If you have no objections or requests you may be dismissed.’’ Shaddam announced, Y/N couldn’t wait to be left alone with Irulan and listen every detail.

‘’Emperor!’’ a man’s strong voice echoed in the throne room, ‘’I have a request.’’ Y/N turned to see Feyd-Rautha leaving his spot and slowly approaching to stand in the middle of the room, ‘’Come forth young Harkonnen.’’

Y/N had a bad feeling, this whole thing look staged, she turned to see her family’s reaction. Duke Leto, again, trying so hard to avoid her, Lady Jessica smiled at her. Y/N was puzzled, ‘’This is for the best.’’ She signed to her daughter.

Feyd-Rautha did what Shaddam said, before he knelt in front of the Emperor he gave a last look to her.

‘’What is it that you request?’’ Shaddam’s calmness irritated Y/N.

‘’Since you raised her as one of your own it is best to ask your permission,’’ Feyd paused to get more reaction from his spectators, his head was down but after that pause he tilted his head and look into Shaddam’s eyes. Shaddam had never seen such power in a young boy before. Baron did a great job.

‘’I demand Lady Y/N Atreides’s hand in marriage.’’

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Thank you for reading. :)

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Four

So it is time for the last part.... I still cannot believe that I managed to write something and look forward to post more

This chapter is very explicit - for my taste at least.

Song for the chapter - Alkaline by Sleeptoken

English is not my first language

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

shameless smut

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

1.695 words

____________

The encounter with Feyd leaves you so shaken that, come morning, you avoid seeing anyone. It feels childish and less dignified, your mind circling around the memories of the evening like vultures. It's as if he doesn't even need to touch you to make you forget years of training and let your emotions get the best of you. And he visibly enjoys it, your pain and humiliation making it even more luxurious for him. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, you put Irulan's gift away and lie down in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the small garden. The sun's rays are softened by the huge trees and reflected in the pond below. Its crystal clear waters appear like a mirror - calm and serene, a painful contrast to your mental state. You close your eyes and try to ground yourself in the moment, repeating the mantra „I am alive in stillness“, but to no avail. The fever that has been ignited within you consumes your mind and body. Your hands seem to develop a life of their own and, as if guided by a puppet master, they find their way to the small band of your tunic. The warm air touches your skin and you close your eyes, letting your fingers slide over your breasts, caressing the nipples that instantly stiffen under your touch. Your hand continues to slide down as your eyes flutter shut. It is almost as if you are picking up where he left off. The heat concentrates under your fingers, and letting your intuition guide you, you move your fingers in circles, dipping in and out of your cunt. The orgasm is so intense that for a second you forget where you are. You can't stop yourself from moaning his name and you feel like coming up for air.

Two days later it is time to say goodbye. Your father kisses you on the forehead and your mother seems to think the same as you - "I will not fear". Letting go of Paul's embrace seems almost impossible, but when all is said and done, you make your way to the Baron's ship. His gigantic form floats in front of you, while your betrothed follows at the same level as you.

Even if he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel his presence. Each step seems to be part of a well-orchestrated choreography and reminds you of a wild animal, ready to reveal its murderous nature at any moment. At the last glance, you turn your head to see your mothers signing "Good luck" to you with a small flick of her wrist. The connection to what was familiar is tethered and you are not sure of the tumultuous feeling your gut that the now empty space in your soul is son tobe filled with a new home. The change is almost tangible, as if when you pay close enough attention, it glow like a dark halo around you.

Once on the ship, you are left to your own devices. You can call upon servants at any time, but they seem to anticipate your wishes before you know them. Food and drink are brought to you, as well as an army of new clothes. Your favourite is the black dress with heavy beading around the bodice, covering your torso like a shield. Paired with a translucent black veil and a small gold chain around your neck, connected to your torso, it feels appropriate to take your first steps on the planet you will call home.

Your unease is heightened when, upon your arrival, neither Feyd nor the Baron are to be seen. A tall, slender man who introduces himself as Piter de Vries escorts you to the Feeds chambers. You immediately recognise the characteristic traces of spice in his eyes, the only thing that seems to have any colour in this world. Shielded from the harsh black sun, you reach Na Baron's quarters, only to find an army of monochrome grey, white and black surroundings. The palace seems to be the essence of the Harkonnens, with hard, clear lines, yet graceful and spacious.

"If you need anything, there are always two servants at the door," says Piter. The servants resemble guards, but you decide not to share this observation. Piter's eyes linger on the glass box with the fir tree. "Do you want to have a closer look?" You ask. "Only if you don't mind. I have never seen anything like it". "It was a parting gift from my father. On Caladan, fir trees grow as tall as these walls, more of them than you can count. You may take it with you if you promise to return it in one piece tomorrow." Pieter seems to understand your bid for connection and bows his head „I am indebted to you, Na Baroness“ Its the first time some one dresses you with your new title and you barely suppress a shiver. And as if the title was a spell, Feyd Rautha appears in the doorway. Piter bows and leaves at once, holding the precious piece of your home in his hands. He moves so siletly, that you begin to wonder if the planet is not only devoid of color but also of sound. Blood seems to rush to your cheeks as you meet Feyd's gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" His voice echoes. "Yes, thank you, Baron." His arms are behind his back and before you realise why, you see droplets of thick, almost black liquid collecting on the floor behind him. Slowly he unclasps his hands, drops to one knee and holds out a slim silver knife to you, covered in more of the same substance. "Is… is it blood?" You don't know why you question it. "Yes, it is. Please accept this as a token of my devotion to you. It is…" his blue eyes find yours, "the proof that my body will be yours alone. No other being shall touch it."

"Your pets…" you feel almost dizzy as the understanding dawns on you.

"No more pets," he says, still on his knee.

You slowly take the knife and place it on the white table beside you. Some of the blood gets on your wrist. He grabs it and licks it off. While a part of your brain screams that you should be afraid, your body seems to find the spark he struck on Kaitain again. His tongue flicks across the sensitive skin as he rises and begins to undo the buttons on your shoulders, the need to touch him overwhelming you and you reach out with your palm to his cheek. He leans into your touch with more tenderness than you ever expected. But as soon as your dress falls to the floor, pure hunger returns to his eyes. He presses into you and you feel as if your insides have melted on the spot. You try to feel his length through the fabric of his tunic. „So needy, Na Baroness?“ He purrs, enjoying the dominance he has over you. With a swimming motion, he pushes you onto the bed, holding your arms above your head. His tongue descends to your collarbone, moving deeper as he takes one breast in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh. You moan under him, already feeling washed away from any security of a shore into a whirl of need. His tongue continues to drive you mad as he bites you, the pain searing and glorious at the same time. Your hand reaches for him again, but he holds your wrists down as his tongue continues to run between your legs. He looks up at you, and it is the last thing to break the tiny shreds of your resolve. But he doesn't let you go, his tongue still swirling between your folds, drinking in your sweetness. Suddenly your hands are connected and a split second later you realise why: he uses his left hand, with slender, graceful fingers, to push your thighs further apart. You feel wanton and still needy, and as one of his finders curls inside you, you moan his name. "Feyd, Feyd, Feyd." Your own voice seems alien to you, high-pitched and desperate.

"My Na Baroness seems to want more," he smiles devilishly and inserts two more fingers at once. You whimper and throw your head back into the pillows. It feels like the stars are exploding behind you and feel the second orgasm coming as he stops and pulls away from you. You can barely hold back a frustrated squeal. Your body feels hot, the only antidote to this madness his skin on yours. You try to concentrate on his form, seeing him remove his tonic first, then his trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination. His body is pure perfection, not a mark on his porcelain skin, he kneels on the bed again and moves towards you. The tip of his shaft is already pink and covered with pearls of pre-cum. It touches your clit lightly as it settles between your legs. "You'll have to learn to control yourself. So responsive to my touch, so desperate…" he hisses as the black of his pupils replaces the blue, making them almost invisible. His tip touches your entrance and then disappears completely inside you. You feel torn apart and put together at the same time, pain and pleasure mixed into something new, a delicious cocktail of discovery that leaves you drunk and breathless. You want to close your eyes, but he says "Look at me" you hear him murmur and you are lost again. With every movement of his hips, your whole being seems to refragment and reassemble like a kaleidoscope. Your walls convulse around him, his name like a sacred chant. Your nails dig into his back and he lets himself fall, speeding up and thrusting into you with even more abandon. You feel his use of you, your name on his lips. For a few seconds you are speechless, your shallow breaths filling the room. He holds your hips as he lies down behind you, still inside you to the hilt. „Welcome to being my wife, dear Na Baroness“

[lya-dustin]

Queen of Light, King of Darkness

Aka the space!Nurbanu x Feyd Rautha fic

Cw: murder, allusions to sex, manipulation, mentions of cannibalism

Feyd Rautha x oc/reader

Taglist: @beebeechaos @avidreader73 @dunefandomhub

Much like your mother before you, you did not lack boldness.

Your mother had captivated the Padishah Emperor even before his wife had died and cemented her place as favorite with the promise of a son ---and her wit and beauty heightened by her abilities, of course.

She would have succeeded if the Bene Gessrit had not meddled and made an example out of her. They claimed they had made her Shaddam Corrino’s concubine in the first place as a replacement for Anirul ---who was only of a middling rank as her daughters were--- and killed her so the emperor knew what would happen if he put a wrench into their centuries long breeding scheme.

Irulan was meant for Paul Atreidis and would birth the Messiah’s children who would inherit the throne, and you, Nurbanu, were meant for whoever the Sisterhood told your father to marry you off to.

But you have other plans.

You wanted the throne. You wanted revenge for your mother, and you knew there was only one way to acquire it.

Through him.

The Harkonnen heir who delights in cruelty and pain.

Feyd Rautha would be yours and the known universe as well.

You know you have caught his eye when he forgets who he is trying to impress and focuses on you and only you.

To the untrained eye, you wear gray and silver as you are hosted by the Baron in all his grotesque glory. You wore pink, an almost insulting color here where the black sun paints everything in stark shades of black and white.

They favored cool dark tones, black as the sun and white as marble are the most seen here. Some may be bold and wear blood red or a deep blue, but colors like those you wear are not welcome.

Not that they can say anything about it, you are the emperor’s daughter.

You purposely avoid him during the festivities, hurting his ego because for the first time, a woman isn’t falling over herself for his attention.

It’s a good game, him as the predator and you as his prey.

But he has never met a woman quite like you, and his usual strategy doesn’t work. He can not make you jealous, he cannot impress you with his cruelty nor his position, nor can he manage to get you close enough to seduce you.

And yet, when he gives up, he finds you in his bed drinking his hard liquor and his concubines asleep on the floor. They have their own quarters as a proper harem would, but this is intentional. This was done to show your superiority over any woman he’s been with or ever could be.

“Was Lady Margot as good as the Box?” You ask mockingly. You are laid back on his pillows, as if you owned it as if he was the one who needed permission to even be there.

“Do you mock me?” He will find a better use for your mouth.

“Merely teasing you, you did have me here waiting all night. I was about to wake your harpies to make my night worthwhile.” You were Bene Gessrit just as Lady Margot Fenring was. He had rather enjoyed his night, but she had only awoken his appetites.

He knows nothing would feel as good as fucking a princess on his own birthday. To paint your pale skin with his seed as dark as your hair, to breed a son into you and claim the golden lion throne through you.

Vladimir is a fine name for an emperor. Vladimir Feyd, Padishah Emperor of the Universe.

“You haven’t even touched me, and already you named our firstborn.” You continue to tease him, light brown eyes dark with lust as you sense all the things he wants to do to you tonight.

There are so many ways he could take you, so many ways he could make you pay for your impertinence. He strips himself as he approaches you like a hunter with his quarry.

“Are you always this insolent, your highness?” Feyd climbs in slowly, like a great feline ready to pounce, but he never does. The Na-Baron only positions himself atop you ready to fuck you into submission.

Fenring had been the one in control. This time, it would be him who’s in control.

“Only when a man has my interest.” He can taste your arrogance in your lips and tongue. A heady feel like fucking under the influence of the spice, something he can bet you know about.

And if you don’t, he will gladly show you.

“A husband could fix that.” Who better than he to be that man. Your own name already matches his own.

Queen of Light. King of Darkness.

"Prince Consort Feyd Rautha has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Even the Bene Gessrit couldn’t have ever stopped this from happening, he thinks as he begins to unravel you underneath him.

It's no surprise to anyone that you return to your father as the Na-Baroness Nurbanu and pregnant with his only grandson to ensure neither he nor the Bene Gessrit get any ideas of separating the two of you.

“The Bene Gessrit expect you to die and leave the path clear for their creation. They always intended to have their messiah rule the universe through my boring elder sister.” You suggest as the two of you rid yourselves of his dear uncle and elder brother.

The black blood on your pale skin does things to him. He had expected you to be all talk and have him do all the work.

You had used your teachings to have both men kill each other and make him the undisputed Baron Harkonnen. Neither man could stop as your Voice commanded them to fight to the death, and Rabban took his own life once your manipulation of his body loosened.

He loved his uncle, even cared a little for his useless brother, but he loved power more. One day, he may even love you and you him.

“What does my baronness suggest I do?” He never had a morning like this and enjoyed the violent spectacle as you fed him with your loving hands. He wants to fuck you here, on the ruined dining room where his darling pets will feast on fine Harkonnen meat.

“Throw the fight, ally yourself with him, and let me give you your heart’s desire without even lifting a finger.” His radiant queen answers caressing his lips you do not seem to tire of.

And because you have not led him wrong, he does as she suggested and kills the Emperor instead.

Feyd Rautha welcomes a son, the future Emperor Feyd Murad, while the Atreidis line ends with the so-called Kwisatz Haderach.

Blond and dark eyed, and completely out of the Bene Gessrit’s control.

Part 2: the last wolf of Lankiveil

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 2523 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. Jessica being Jessica once more….

A/n: Once again, we will see more Paul soon. Just trust. I hope you guys enjoy!

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Dune masterlist

Four———

[Six days until the ceremony]

It is always is the same recurrent nightmare.

Trapped in the desert once more, surrounded by dunes. The sky is an angry crimson, and the temperature is impossibly hot. There is a storm growing on the horizon, and the wind is whipping up the sand into your eyes.

You are filled with a growing sense of hysteria, as you are overwhelmed by the burning heat and the constant bombardment of sand.

It grows darker, and the storm grows in intensity. You start to feel frantic, your breathing heavy, your heart pounding in your chest. A thunderous, booming voice fills your mind.

"Fear is the mind-killer," it whispered, "Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.”

The sand whipping around you begins to feel like glass, slicing away at you.

“I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.”

A wave of pure terror washes over you, a feeling of doom and impending doom growing stronger.

“And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Just as you think you can't handle it anymore, you jolt awake. You eyes adjust to the light, and you begin to make out the figure who had awoken you, standing above.

“Irulan?” You question as she begins to take a few steps back from you bedside as you swiftly began to sit up.

Her ceremonial Bene Geserit attire immediately caused chill to run down your spine. She stands near your doorway, you could barely make out the cold, emotionless look on her face through the thick black veil.

"It is time to meet with Reverend Mother Jessica... come, let us be quick."

You shoot up in bed and instantly start pummeling questions at her. Why is she here? Where is father? Has something happened?

She avoids your questions, seemingly aware of your growing frustration and confusion. She speaks in a flat, emotionless tone, with no hint of emotion or explanation.

“Come”

She leads you out of your room, walking down the hallway and taking you to the library. She is silent, the only sound coming from her is her footsteps echoing lightly off the tiled floors as you make your way to the library.

You can feel your blood rushing through your entire body, anxiety follows.

As you stop outside the room your sister turns to you and takes your hands and squeezing them lightly. “You must obey the mother, sister, please.” Before you can say a word she shoves you into the room.

Standing opposite you is Jessica Atreides, dark black robe and tight black veil covering her face, the only glimpse of her being the blue gleam from her eyes.

Once the door closes, you speak “I demand to know what is going on.” Your voice is stern and booms through the empty library.

“The beginnings of the truth” she says coldly. "Now, come here," she gestures for you to move closer to her.

You silently walk towards her, heart pounding out of your chest as Jessica’s demeanor becomes harder, and her tone becomes sharper.

"Kneel. Show respect and obedience. You must prove your willingness."

“Prove my willingness?” You question

“Silence!”

Her gaze remains steadily on you, demanding your submission. She moves her right hand revealing a box. As you kneel down in front of jessica, your eyes fixate on the box she has just uncovered.

“Put your hand in the box”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with questions. What does this mean? What will happen when you put your hand in the box?

As you extend your hand towards the box, suddenly Jessica thrusts the gom jabbar towards your neck, holding it firmly against your skin.

“An animal caught in a trap will naw off its own leg. What will you do? Resist your impulses? Or die like an animal?” She says.

The words hit you like a blow, a cold chill running down your spine. You realize that the test is about more than just physical pain; It's about the mind and the strength to resist the instincts of self-preservation.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still and resist the urge to pull away from the gom jabbar at your neck. You look up at jessica, your expression defiant but determined.

Slowly, with nervous determination, you place your hand into the box. Suddenly, a searing hot, sharp pain washes over you, causing you to flinch and cry out in pain.

With each moment, the pain grows more intense, as if a molten fire is spreading from your hand to every nerve ending of your body. The agony is overwhelming, and it feels like a thousand knives are piercing your flesh. It is beyond anything you could have imagined, and your resolve is tested to the limit.

Tears stream down your face, and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You feel the blood pulse in your ears as the pain courses through you. Yet, despite the overwhelming pain, you find a deep, powerful, almost hypnotic focus. The gom jabbar at your throat now feels like a caress compared to the excruciating agony in your hand. Your entire awareness is concentrated on the pain, your world narrowed down to this single, burning sensation.

Just as suddenly as the pain started, it begins to subside. the intensity gradually lessens, until eventually, The pain is gone.

You look up at jessica, your eyes wide and tearful. You see a sense of pride in her eyes, and a small smile on her lips. "You did it," she murmurs softly, her gaze steady on you. "You passed the test."

As you stand before Jessica, your gaze is steady, but your expression is sullen. Despite your success in enduring the box, you are filled with anger and resentment. You know the pain and trauma you've endured, and all the deception that led you here.

You look at her, your eyes hard and defiant. "What now?" you demand, your voice tense and angry.

Her voice is low and soothing. "In order to prepare you for what will be, I must first help you remember what has been done before. I will reveal to you a secret that is known only to the most devout of the Bene Geserit, our sisterhood's most closely guarded mystery."

She continues speaking, her voice growing more intense with each word. "All this time since birth, your body has been shaped and trained to fulfill this moment. It has been honed, conditioned, and prepared for this specific purpose.

"From your early days of life, you were conditioned and trained by your mother and sister in our ways," She explains, "There has been a master plan set in motion, orchestrated by our sisterhood, in order to ensure that your union with paul will be the most significant one in history."

Jessica continues, still speaking calmly but with a sense of intensity underlining her words. "There is a prophecy, that a special individual, known as the Kwisatz Haderach, would be born. A male Bene Geserit.

We have been watching and manipulating circumstances to fulfill this prophecy for generations. Paul is the one who was foretold, and he will be able to bring about the desired outcome we so greatly need."

You are left standing in silence, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of all the information that has just been presented to you. As jessica speaks, it is clear that she fully believes in the prophecy and its implications.

Fate is something you never believed in, yet as the wool that has been placed over your eyes starts to slip you realize—your fate has been decided centuries before your birth.

She looks at you, her face serious but understanding. "You will make the future bright for the imperium.”

jessica looks at you calmly, her demeanor unfazed by your anger. "Now you will continue your preparation for the marriage to Paul. There is much more to do, and you must be ready to fulfill your purpose."

"I understand you must feel betrayed," she adds, her tone softer now, "but understand that what we are doing is for the greater good of the Imperium."

For all her soft words, you cannot shake the feeling of betrayal. You know that you have been pushed and manipulated into this role, and you cannot help but feel resentment and anger toward those who have done this to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain control of your emotions. "What happens when paul and i marry?" you ask, your tone cautious.

“We leave for Arrakis.”

You feel a sense of dread wash over you at the mention of the desert planet arrakis. You know that the journey there will be perilous, and that the environment there is harsh and unforgiving. Nonetheless, you nod, determined to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

"And what comes after that?" you ask, pressing for more details.

"Once we arrive, you will play a crucial role in the upcoming war with the house harkonnen," Jessica explains. "You must learn the ways of the freemen, and help Paul navigate the treacherous political landscape. he needs your support now more than ever."

You mull over her words, feeling a sense of burden and responsibility settling down upon you. This is not what you had expected or wanted, but you know you have no choice in the matter.

Jessica looks at you intently, as if reading your thoughts. "You may not have chosen this fate,” she says quietly. "but it is yours nonetheless. And you will find that the path you follow is one of great honor and significance."

You nod silently, your mind still swirling with confusion and resentment.

"For now, you should rest," Jessica says, her voice gentle. "You have faced great trials today, and you need time to recover and process all that has happened."

You feel relieved by her offer. Yes, you think, a chance to clear your mind and gather your thoughts would be welcome. You nod weakly in agreement, and jessica gives you a small, reassuring smile. "Goodnight, my dear. we shall speak again soon."

You turn your head as you hear the door open. you look up in surprise as irulan enters the room. A pang of anxiety and unease washes over you as you wonder why she has come. Was she privy to all that has been said and done here?

Irulan gazes at you with a cool, unreadable expression, her demeanor giving away nothing. Her presence makes you feel on edge, as if she is both an ally and an enemy at once. You wait in anticipation for her to speak, your mind swirling with questions and suspicions.

“I shall walk you back to your room, sister” she says

You look at her hesitantly, not entirely sure if you trust her. But you know that you have no reason not to go with her, and you feel too exhausted to protest. You nod silently, signaling your assent, and together, you leave the room with her.

As you walk side by side, Irulan is silent for a long moment. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but confident. "You are a brave one, to have endured the box. few could ever imagine the pain of that test."

You look at her, unsure of how to respond. what was her purpose in telling you this? Was it a genuine compliment, or a veiled threat? You remain cautious, waiting for her to reveal her intent.

She continues, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "however, be warned, sister. There are many more trials ahead, and some may be even more difficult to bear."

You feel a chill run down your spine at her words. You had imagined that the test of pain was the worst that you would face, but now you realize that it was only the beginning.

“What is to happen to father after the wedding, do you know?”

Irulan glances at you, a small, barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "As i suspected," she murmurs, almost to herself.

Before you can respond, she continues. "you are concerned for father, i see. Rest assured, he will play a pivotal role in the events that loom on the horizon."

You feel a brief sense of relief at her words, but you cannot help but sense that they are not the full truth. why won't she just be straight with you?

"There is more to this, is there not?" you say, your voice tinged with skepticism. "I sense that you are withholding information from me. Why?"

Irulan pauses for a moment, her expression inscrutable. "You are wise, sister," she says finally. "Many pieces are still in motion, and i cannot reveal all at this moment. I promise you, in time, all will be made clear."

You study her face for a moment, searching for any sign of deception or falsehood. She maintains her composure, giving nothing away. you sigh, frustrated but resigned.

"Fine," you say, "I shall have to wait then. but I hope you will not keep me in the dark for much longer."

"Have no fear, sister," Irulan replies, her tone gentle yet firm. "I understand your desire for knowledge, but sometimes it is best to wait and observe. Trust in the process, and in due time, all will be made clear to you."

With that, she gives you a small nod, and you continue walking side by side in silence.

You feel uneasy as you reach your room, unsure of how to interpret irulan's words. Was she truly on your side, or did she have some ulterior motive? You decide to take her advice and wait for the full truth to come to light, and hope that it would be worth the wait.

"Thank you, Irulan," you say, turning to face her. "Your guidance, though cryptic, has been valuable."

She looks at you for a moment, then nods slightly. "goodnight, sister. sleep well."

You send her a warm smile as you stop outside your chambers. “I hope this is not our last encounter…” you say

Irulan gives you a small, enigmatic smile in return. "Fear not, sister. our paths will surely cross again."

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and uncertainty.

You enter your chambers, feeling both relieved and confused. you sit down on your bed, trying to make sense of the day's events. your mind is a swirl of emotions, from pain and fear to hope and determination.

You lay down, closing your eyes, but sleep does not come easily. Your mind is still racing, trying to process all that has happened. but eventually, fatigue wins over, and you drift off into an uneasy slumber. It is always the same nightmare.

———

Next chapter

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[auroreatreides]

Dune : Far from home

Warnings : Death, Sadness, Anger, Regret

Every Ship is yandere

Ships for later : Paul x Reader, Chani x Reader, Princess Irulan x Reader, Feyd-Rautha x Reader (romantic) - Emperor x Reader, Stilgar x Reader, Lady Jessica x Reader (plantonic)

It was late in the night as you were walking through the streets of your home town. You could hear the thunder and rain as you walked through it. You just had celebrated your birthday with your closest friends and it was really fun. First you went to a café where you ate cake and drank coffee. Most of you liked the homemade Cheesecake but your best friend, (Best friend´s name), said that it was horrable. You just ended up all dicussing what you personally think about it. After that you took the bus and drove to the shopping centre in which you bought clothes and some other stuff. But you bought many clothes. Many many clothes. Each of you had at least one big back to carry because since you were rich and generous, you gave your friends all what they wanted. Of course they didn´t know that before because you waited to see if they were good friends and afterwards you decided you could tell them. In the shopping centre you also goofed around and behaved very silly, running through the stores and getting scolded by the old woman who stood behind the counter.

You still have to laugh when you think about it. As you got home you put off your beige coat and your white sneakers. "Mom, Dad I´m home!" "Hey honey how was your party?" your Dad asked. "Perfect" you responded. "It´s an awful weather, isn´t it?" "OH yes it is" .Your blue-green eyes searched for your Mom as you walked in the kitchen. "Dad, where´s Mom?" " She´s out getting a surprise for you" Immediatly you ran into the living room with your dark blonde wavy hair hanging down your back. "Really?"

You were just greatful that you had parents who treated you like this. Before long, you didn´t have as much. Those who you lived with were only your step-parents. Your real parents were poor and abused you and your brother. You had to get your own food and didn´t have anything useful. No actually clothes, no real place to sleep, no friends, no nothing. But you found a way to earn money. In the streets, you thaught yourself to fight and won most of the "competitions" there. First it was difficult but then it turned out to be easy. You still trained today and you looked the part. You weren´t fragile and girly. You were tough and ready to protect everyone you loved. Live has shaped you this way and you will always stay like this.

Your brother (Brother´s name) basically looked the same as you, only that he was the male and you the female version. You had the same hair colour, the same eye colour and so on. Many thought that you were twins but you weren´t. (Brother´s name) was two years older than you. But your step-parents looked very similiar too. So if you´re an outsider, you wouldn´t say that they would be your step-parents.

Then your brother came down "Hey sis. How´s your birthday?" "Good, (Nickname of your brother)" "Hey! Stop calling me that you know I hate it!" He pulled a face. Now you had to laugh. "I´m so sorry but it´s just so hilarous when you pull a face like that." "So, there´s no gift for you,ok" he said "Wait no! Please, you can´t do that it´s my birthday!" "Ok, ok just jokin´" He pulled out the gift and handed it over. You were quick to open it and gasped. You threw yourself on him and squealed. "This is so perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" It was a photo album in which he put pictures of your friends, you, him, your family and a necklace in. After about ten minutes your Mom came home. "I´m home!" she called. You ran up to her and threw your arms around her torso. "Hi Mom. Did you get here well? It´s quite stormy out there" you said. "Hi, honey. Yes, it was ok but you´re right " you realesed her as she said "I want everyone to come to the table." "Oh, why?" you asked "You´ll see" she answerd and smiled.

As you sat at the table your Mom began to speak "So, I wanted to ta-" Peng - everything was black ......a deafening sound in your ears......screaming.....looking up....fire..everywhere..... You stood up and looked around. Even that was difficult. Then you saw it. A men held your dad by his neck and pressed. Another one. he did the same to your Mom. "NO! Let them go!" you tried to run but your legs failed you. Again. This time they looked in your direction. You held out your hand und begged "Please no... let them be" you said as you got up. One of them tried to hit you but you dodged in time and kicked back. The man fell to the ground after you kicked him in the stomach too. Your father´s body slipped down lifeless. That very moment you were in total shock. He was dead. So was your mother. A single tear slipped from your eye. Everything was silent as you watched your parent´s corpses on the groung. Memories and flashbacks in your head. Laughing with them. Your birthdays. Last summer. Christmas. Everything at once. You loved them so much. As much as a daughter could love her parents. And now they were gone. They saved you and your brother from your past. Both played so important roles in your life, which you were greatful for. But you weren´t ready to let them go. You only had two years with them. It´s just not fair, nothing is fair.

Then- you felt a hit in your gut that sent you back on the ground. Someone put his foot on your chest and pressed down. "Playing the hero, aren´t you? Sorry to crush your dreams but no" He was strong and big and he seemed to be very build. His armor was black and had a coat of arms on it. It was a ram´s head with a crimson red background and glowing eyes. "Get the boy" he harshly said to the other warrior. Now that you noticed it, they all had pale skin and lokked all the same. Except the big one. You saw your brother getting dragged by his foot over to you. "Let. Him. Go." you said "Make me" he said "Fuck off, you motherfucker" you answerd. "Whoa, seems like someone is pissed today" Now he was stepping on your throat. You tried to get some air in your lungs but it didn´t work. "I´m saying this as a warning, and only once so listen close : Disrespect us and we´ll see what happens to that one" he mentioned to your brother and pushed you up by the neck. "Do you understand me?" you nodded reluctantly. "Good" he said. Suddently you felt a sharp pain in your neck and fell to the ground. "Be more careful with her, Glossu Rabban. The Baron wants her alive" "Don´t be so squeamish, she´ll live"

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

What will happen next? Why have they murdered your parents? You´ll find out in the next episode

Like and reblog if you enjoyed

Please do not steal, copy or modify my work Love, Aurore Atreides

[witchywomanrunningupthathill]

Dreams (Chapter 4 - Shirin's Message)

Pairing: Paul Atreides x OFC

Description: Rhaenia undergoes the Gom Jabbar amidst her struggles to cope with her loss. A locket spells trouble between her and the Emperor. Arrakis gifts her a young ally.

Warnings: depression, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This is the final chapter of Rhaenia going it solo. Paul is on the way! Who's ready for their first official meeting?

“A process cannot be understood by stopping it. Understanding must move with the flow of the process, must join it and flow with it.” 

– The First Law of Mentat

Grief carried with it a unique pain. It was static, empty, and it throbbed. It made Rhaenia’s head pound and her heart feel weak. Her entire house — gone. That was how she’d felt in the two weeks following the murder of her mother and older brothers. Now, only she remained. The last of her name. At first, she’d almost stolen one of the imperial spacecrafts and flown to Khumali herself – just to see if they really were gone.

Now, she only felt numb. She sat with the Reverend Mother as the Emperor met with his Soldier-spy General.

“Based on our observations and intelligence reports, House Atreides is training an elite force. I have watched them fight, your Majesty, and I could hardly tell them apart from Sardaukar,” the spy said.

He wasn’t lying. Of course, he wasn’t. She didn’t need Truthsense to tell that. She was confused as to why the Emperor had even called Reverend Mother Mohiam for this meeting. This soldier-spy, regardless of his rank wasn’t going to tell lie because if he did, he’d be staring down the barrel of fifteen lasguns at short-range. The Emperor should worry about who he sought counsel from, like Count Fenring. She expected as much from a man.

After the soldier-spy had finished his report, another imperial official stepped forward. Rhaenia closed her eyes, tried to tune her Truthsense, but her body and mind were no longer one. She tried again, focusing on each word the official uttered. Nothing. Her mind was stalled. Her heart began to race.

Back in Irulan’s rooms, Rhaenia sat across from Irulan. The sunlight shone in from the window behind her hunched and solemn form. 

“This has never happened before.”

“And you’re sure it was your Truthsense?”

“What else could it have been, Irulan?”

“I’m just saying. With everything that’s been going on…” Irulan trails off, sitting down next to Rhaenia. “I’m not going to say I know how you feel, because I don’t…but, please, Nia, talk to me. The only time I hear your voice nowadays is during B.G. duties.”

It takes Rhaenia a moment to gather her thoughts. Really, she’s trying to stop her lip from quivering.

“I – um…I’m just…I really miss them” Rhaenia says, unable to stop the sob she’d been holding back before. Irulan pulls her into an embrace. “It’s my fault.” Irulan shushes her.

“Don’t say that! You could never have known.”

“I should’ve told him not to go! I should’ve seen it! I — I could’ve stopped all this!”

“That’s impossible” Irulan said, rubbing the girl’s back as her own mind started to race.

“It’s not!” Rhaenia shouts, now pushing Irulan away, which causes the other girl to gasp lightly. “I could see Arrakis. I saw myself on Caladan long before I went there with the Reverend Mother. But I didn’t see the Harkonnens arriving on Khumali. I didn’t even know Cassius was leaving! No… I was too busy talking to Paul Atreides in my dreams! Too busy imagining home.”

“Paul Atreides?” Irulan asks, clearly thrown by the mention of the prince. Rhaenia’s gaze quickly lifts to Irulan and are then just as quickly downcast again. “You-you’re prescient?”

“No one must find out.”

“You never said before—“

“That was before. This is now.”

“I just want you to be okay.”

“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that, Irulan.” Rhaenia swipes the back of her hand across her cheek, straightens her posture as she gets up. “I need to go prepare the rest of my things…plus, the Reverend Mother wished to see me before the afternoon is up.”

“Let me help you.”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” Rhaenia said. Nevertheless, Irulan rises by her side. “Really.”

“Then join us for dinner. It’s your last night here. I’m sure father would be happy to host you.”

Rhaenia only offered her a shrug, but her gaze was calculating at the mention of the Empeeor. She was out of the room before Irulan could say anything else. Rhaenia leaned back onto the closed door, closes her eyes and huffs. Hearing a pair of footsteps nearby, she quickly regained her composure and continued down the corridor.

The Imperial Library was an ancient, rotund edifice that was easy to get lost in. Immediately upon her arrival, Rhaenia met the awaiting Reverend Mother, who stood in the middle of the room. Rhaenia stops in front of the Reverend Mother, bowing her head.

“Your Reverence” Rhaenia says.

“Have you come alone?” the Reverend Mother asks.

“Yes, of course,” Rhaenia watches the Reverend Mother’s calculating expression.

“This is the last that I will ask of you before you set off for Arrakis…” the Reverend Mother says before guiding Rhaenia to a nearby roundtable. Two small boxes atop it, one metal and green, the other black and velvet. She opens the box on the left, inside it, a slim needle no longer than her middle finger. The front of the green, metal box opens to reveal a black interior. The Reverend Mother plucks the needle from its box. Rhaenia’s heart thumps quickly as she watches the Reverend Mother bring the needle to her neck. “Put your right hand in the box.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Pain.”

Rhaenia slides her hand forward, but retracts it.

“Your Reverence, I just think…might we do this another time? The grief is still too near—”

“Do you believe your grief to be of greater importance than the breeding program? Than the missionaria protectiva?”

“Of course not.”

“Then place your right hand in the box,” the Reverend Mother commands. Rhaenia acquiesces, sliding her hand into the cold metal box, surrendering herself to the greater good of the Bene Gesserit. “I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar, the high-handed enemy. It’s a needle with a drop of poison on its tip. If you pull away, you will feel that poison.”

“You’ve never had me do anything like this before…why?”

“The moment is right.” Rhaenia tuts, forgetting herself. “If you withdraw your hand from the box, you die. This is the only rule. Keep your hand in the box and live. Withdraw it and die,” the Reverend Mother says, avoiding the girl’s question.

Rhaenia feels the heat begin to radiate around her right hand. Then something else. It feels more like a memory. She forces herself to concentrate on the Gom Jabbar at her neck, but the image of Paul Atreides permeates her mind. She felt a memory – the prince’s own hand had been subject to the box’s tyranny.

“Do you enjoy this?” she asks. It feels as if flames are licking at her hand.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? What will you do?”

The pain swirled around her mind like a crazed storm; mental clouds and winds attempted to sweep away her concentration on the poison needle at her neck. Rhaenia closed her eyes as her left hand, now balled into a fist, trembled at her side. In her mind’s eye, she saw Paul moaning in pain. This is a memory, she thought to herself. She went through the litany against fear as she watched Paul clench his left hand.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

The burning sensation increased in her right hand. This isn’t my pain, the thought prodded at her. Behind her closed eyes, she could feel Paul trying to flex the fingers of his burning hand. She did the same, but she could not move them. A cry escaped from her lips.

“Silence!” The Reverend Mother ordered.

She could feel Paul’s pain throbbing up her own arm. Sweat beading on her forehead. Every fiber cried out to withdraw the hand from the inferno…but…she wouldn’t let herself die from the needle poised at her neck. She could see Paul breathing in gasps, as she was. She tried to slow her breaths, willed her prana-bindu training to pull through.

Pain!

Her world emptied of everything except that hand immersed in agony. Inches away, the Reverend Mother stared at her. Rhaenia thought she could feel the flesh of her hand crisping and dropping away until only charred bones remained. Then, something shifted. She felt the pain move through her body, then she felt relief, energized. Suddenly, the Reverend Mother’s eyebrows furrowed, her grip on the needle faltering slightly. Her own right hand began to burn. Her eyes went wide, struggling to fathom the impossible.

Rhaenia struggled to keep her focus, fighting a trance-like state. Her agony flowed away from her and into the Reverend Mother. Ecstasy lay in its wake. Rhaenia’s eyes flew open as the vision of Paul was traded for that of Reverend Mother Mohiam undergoing the spice agony, she felt the screams, the poison as it coursed through each blood vessel, her body becoming something else entirely…and she saw Sister after Sister endure the same fate in hopes of becoming a Reverend Mother. 

Thousands of women before her. 

Rhaenia felt like she was no longer in her body. She felt like she had become all of these women all at once. Tears fell from her eyes as she struggled to cling to the visions. This was Other Memory, the collective consciousness of every Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit. Then, she saw Arrakis. She saw herself, sitting prostrate in the sand in front of a line of date palms. She saw a lake of water on the desert planet. She watched herself open her eyes – no longer brown, but blue within blue. And she heard the chanting, Alhayya jalib! Alhayya jalib! Alhayya jalib!

In front of her, Reverend Mother Mohiam faltered, failing to cope with the pain the girl was conducting. The Gom Jabbar fall from her sizzling hand to the cold, hard stone floor.

At the same time, Rhaenia is thrown from her state. She looks at the Reverend Mother who watches her in fear and disbelief.

Silence.

“There is no way…” the Reverend Mother says. She grabs Rhaenia by the arms, desperate. “How?” Rhaenia was speechless. “No woman-child has ever endured that amount of pain, let alone what you’ve done to me!”

“Why are you making me do this?”

“We sift people. Pain by nerve induction…Tell me exactly what you felt.”

“I… I felt my hand burning…until there was nothing left. And then I felt everything. I saw you; I saw all of the Reverend Mothers…I saw myself. The pain, it just…went.”

“The Reverend Mother said, holding up her right hand. “I sifted you…and it seems that you sifted everything at once. No sister of the Bene Gesserit has done such a thing… You must tell me, Rhaenia, did you sense anything else?”

“No,” Rhaenia said, shaking her head. Rhaenia buried the visions of Paul and Arrakis within her mind as best she could as she felt the Reverend Mother use her Truthsense.

The Reverend Mother let go of her, satisfied.

“Fine, that is all. I must say you have exceeded my expectations. I expect much of you on Arrakis.”

Rhaenia nods, and exits, her mind reeling with images of people and places and the ominous

In his receiving room, Emperor Shaddam IV watches an agent lay out the contents from a metal lock box with a haut-relief Corrino lion on its top. A dagger with a Griffin-head handle and a pocket size copy of the Orange Catholic Bible.

“Both taken off of Prince Cassius, Your Majesty.” Shaddam’s eyebrows fall at the sight of a single gold locket.

“This was the only item taken from Lady Shirin’s body. The only item of importance,” the agent said, watching Shaddam pick up the locket. The Emperor runs his thumb over the front, which depicts an ouroboros in the shape of infinity, with a sun in one half and the moon in the other. “An heirloom of House Khumali, sire.”

“Yes, I gathered that much,” the Emperor says, opening the locket.

“We found this inside, your Majesty,” the agent says, handing over a size of spice-paper, no bigger than the palm of his hand.

“A lion hides his face behind Harkonnen terror. Do not pay the price for his treachery,” the Emperor reads, handing the note back to the agent. “See that Lady Shirin’s message is destroyed.”

“And the necklace, sire?”

“Leave it here. I will have my Judge of Succession deliver it to the Princess in due time with the other items.”

“Your majesty,” the agent says, excusing himself.

Shaddam studies the locket once more, before pocketing it.

Reverend Mother Mohiam takes a seat at the round table in the Imperial Library with her fellow sisters Valeria Antony and Silas Doria Maryam. 

“It seems the missionaria protectiva has overextended itself… I gave Rhaenia Khumali the Gom Jabbar and she survived… She more than survived.” Reverend Mother Mohiam said, recalling the image of the girl, her eyes squeezed shut, transmuting the heat from the box to her superior.

“Then we must observe her further…might the Emperor consider delaying her travel to Arrakis?” Maryam said.

“Out of the question, Silas. The Emperor has his mind set on House Atreides.” Mohiam said.

“As should we,” Antony chimed in.

“The girl did something I have never seen in a century of administering this test. And yet she chose to tell me a half-truth. I felt it. She…transferred the pain to me. I couldn’t continue the test. She possesses too much power,” Mohiam admitted.

“Gaius…what are you proposing?” Antony asked as Maryam looked on.

“The Atreides boy shows promise. Though, we must keep searching, crossing genetic lines. It is much too early. Yet I fear that in preparing the Way, for the Kwisatz Haderach, we have created an aberration. I’ve reviewed our scrolls, our test results…there are other prophecies—"

“Rejected long ago for our purposes,” Antony said.

“Perhaps we failed to flow completely with the process, overlooked another chance,” Mohiam said.

“We made no mistakes!” Antony argued.

“The Adtirab Altarach.” The women go still at Mohiam’s words. “The Upheaval of the Way.”

“It is unsound!”

“Rhaenia survived the Gom Jabbar. We cannot lose this chance. She is already part of the Sisterhood; all she must do now is fully realize her prescience and our mission. And she may do that on Arrakis” 

“She is to mate with Paul Atreides, not fulfill a moot prophecy!”

“The missionaria has a purpose—” Maryam started.

“The Adtirab Altarach” Mohiam begins, “A female incarnated in one of the Houses Major and acquired by the Bene Gesserit. A master of the elements, fire, water, earth, and air, will make a paradise of the Fremen homeworld. She will mark the beginning of a new Universal Order. An Upheaval of the Way.”

“For 10,000 years we have awaited the Kwisatz Haderach. 10,000 years of the breeding program, of crossing noble lines, of preparing the Way, of coming up short. We have a way forward. The work of the Bene Gesserit over millennia will end in our control of the Universe” Antony said.

“There are many ways to achieve the same end” Maryam said.

“Indeed, Sister,” Mohiam said, giving a nod, pleased. “Though, it would appear that we are already in control.”

Later that night, Rhaenia stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her black robes. She fiddled with a golden collar with emeralds embedded throughout. The piece was of Bene Gesserit make. A soft knock at the door broke her from her focus. A servantwoman appeared.

“My Lady, the Emperor’s Judge of Succession,” the woman said, ushering the Judge in, then closing the door.

“Greetings, Princess,” the Judge said, his tone a bit too chipper, almost mechanical.

“Good evening,” Rhaenia said as she studied the Judge. 

They were a foot taller than her, dressed in flowing, cream-colored robes. They sported a red sash with Corrino lion accents. They carried a large, metal case with the gold Corrino sigil on its top, and a scroll. She wondered how many of the Emperor’s Heralds and Judges were really just Thinking Machines disguised as humans. She didn’t recall seeing the Judge blink since they’d arrived.

An awkward silence passes between the two of them.

“Do go ahead, Judge,” Rhaenia said.

“Of course…” The Judge opened the scrool and began reading. “Princess Rhaenia of House Khumali shall immediately take possession of the items retrieved from Lady Shirin Khumali and Prince Cassius Khumali.”

The Judge then closed the scroll and unlocked the case. They slid out two drawers from the inside. On the bottom lay the dagger, and on the top drawer, the O.C. Bible lay next to Shirin’s locket.

“This is all?” Rhaenia asked, genuinely confounded.

“This is all” the Judge said, before bowing and exiting soundlessly.

Rhaenia kneeled in fornt of the box, gripping the dagger and running her fingers across the blade. Khumali lettering ran down the middle. Atash ascender, Firestarter, was the blade’s name. She wondered whose blood it had last spilled. She put the dagger down then picked up the O.C. Bible. She thought it odd for Cassius to have this. She flipped through it to a folded page. A verse was marked:

Some lies are easier to believe than the truth.

Didn’t she know it. Nevertheless, she closed the book and lay it aside, finally pulling the locket from its confines. She inspected the ouroboros outfitted with a Griffin head, ran her thumb over it, then she brought the locket to her lips. This was the closest she’d ever be with her mother or the rest of her family ever again, she thought. As she brought the necklace back down to her lap, she noticed something poling out of the inside of the locket. Prying the charm open, a small piece of paper fell out. Her heart sunk as she unfolded the paper.

God created Arrakis to train the faithful. S.C. IV

Rhaenia frowned, throwing the paper aside. She reached to the back of her neck to undo the gold collar. She placed it on a table nearby. Next, she clasped the locket around her neck, smoothing out the chain. It felt cold against her skin. Then she shrugged of her black robes and walked to the adjacent room. A glowglobe followed her into the room, illuminating racks and racks of clothing. Rhaenia walks to a far corner and begins sifting through a few articles before pulling out something she’s satisfied with.

 If the Emperor wants a reaction from me, then he shall have it, she thought to herself.

Everyone in the Emperor’s dining hall falls silent. Irulan’s eyes go wide. Shaddam remains smug as boot clacks echo through the space. Walking through the crowd is Rhaenia, dressed in an umber leather dress. Leather panels on her shoulders are embroidered with a feather pattern, giving her the appearance of wings. The skirt is akin to an accordion as it swishes with her movements. A cape waves slightly behind her with each step.

One of the Emperor’s advisors standing next to Irulan says in a hushed tone, “The sky burns orange when a Khumali calls their men to war.” Irulan is speechless as Rhaenia stops in front of her and her father.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Your Majesty,” Rhaenia started, 

The Emperor’s eyes flit from Rhaenia’s locket back up to her eyes. “No worries, Princess.” He turns toward the crowd, “Everyone, please come, take your seats.”

This was the beginning of a long night.

Travelling to Arrakis hungover was not how Rhaenia had initially imagined her voyage to the foreign planet. But she would rather suffer the pounding headache than risk being poisoned by the Emperor. That was her rationale when she’d rejected the pill the servant offered her earlier that day.

She closed her eyes, focusing on everything and nothing, until she found the Void. She felt her each of her blood vessels dilate, her heart rate slowed, and she relaxed. She wished for her Truthsense to return. Instead, images came forward of the sands of Arrakis, the dunes, the city, she saw people preparing for her arrival, for the Atreides. She fell deeper into the void as she heard a Fremen woman’s low-pitched voice sing an old Zensunni ballad. She fell deeper…deeper.

At first, Rhaenia believed she had flown to her home planet. Home. This was her new home, she supposed.

Arrakis. Dune.

She’d been rushed off of the spacecraft into the Arrakeen residence. The servants had told her to “Hurry! It is almost midday – time to close the residence before the heat becomes too much.” It was indeed hot, but she liked it. She’d grown tired of the mild temperatures of Kaitain. She was sick of the world of happy-mediums. She was born in the land of extremes, and if she had a choice, she would always have it that way. Arrakis burned and Rhaenia burned with it.

The Arrakeen Residence was sprawling, shadowy, and reminded her so much of her home. But there was much that was different too. It was near-silent, and almost cold. The palace was lifeless as of yet. She supposed that that was what happened when Harkonnens take up residence.

A single strip of sunlight from a window on the far wall illuminated her room. Servants moved in and out periodically, setting up her things. She placed a hand on her abdomen as her stomach growled.

Rhaenia set out in search of the kitchens, hell-bent on not asking for directions from any of the servants. Rhaenia wandered hall after hall, floor after floor, until she found herself on the third level. She peered through a cracked door to find an empty room. It was a large space, bereft of any furniture, or anything, for the matter. It had a large circular window in the ceiling. Sunlight beamed through the oculus, bathing the room in warmth. At the middle of the floor was a nine-pointed star enclosed by a circle the same size as the oculus above it. Rhaenia stepped further into the room and squatted down, running her hand along one of the shape’s lines.

“Do you know what it is?” a young voice says from the doorway.

Rhaenia gasps, startled. She quickly turns in the direction of the voice to see a young Fremen girl, no older than eleven with blue within blue eyes and hair down to her waist. “My ancestors used them to call forth from the universe.”

The girl stepped inside. “I’ve seen a Reverend Mother heal a man with one of them.”

“Is that so?” Rhaenia asks.

“He was injured. He’d invoked the Amtal,” the girl said.

“What is your name?”

“Yara” the girl says.

“It is nice to meet you, Yara. I am Rhaenia,” Rhaenia says, bowing to the young girl who grabs her hand and pulls on it.

“Come, Princess. You must prepare for the Atreides,” Yara says, guiding Rhaenia out of the room. Rhaenia smiles at the girl, but looks back to the room, curious. When she turns around, Yara is looking back at her, impatient, her blue eyes boring into the princess. “Alhayya…” Yara mumbles. She recognizes Rhaenia.

[sandwormrp]

Manifesting the way

Irulan Corrino x Paul Atreides 706 Words Summary: Paul married Irulan, they went through with the wedding and Paul has been trying to rule alongside Irulan rather than against. Header created by the talented Echo!

Fuel a writer's fixation by liking & reblogging their work!

Arrakis was different. The unforgiving deserts remained the same but the people carried a newfound charge out into the universe, all in the name of Muad’dib. The spaceport was a hive of incoming and outgoing ships. Irulan glazed over the city from the viewport, seeing all the way back to the shield wall - long since damaged from atomics after the battle with her fathers army. How long ago that felt now, and yet, it wasn’t that long ago at all.

That wasn’t what was disturbing her now.

Murmurings came from behind her. Pauls’ council of most trusted talked amongst themselves. One of the first meetings since they’ve returned to Arrakeen. They had much to discuss. The sound of a unison of movement, caused her to glance over her shoulder and see her husband had arrived. She wanted to go back to observing outside, trying to picture this green paradise they speak of, but she had work to do.

Irulan quietly and calmly took to her space at the table. Remaining standing as all others had done once the Emperor arrived.

Irulan thought back to something she’d been wondering. In an infinite universe, not only is everything possible, but everything is possible all the time. Infinite possibilities happening infinitely often. How can one possibly calculate the probabilities or ratios of anything? Or how can one truly know the laws of the universe in which anything is possible and equally infinite? Humanity had used the known universe as a template for how the infinite beyond may function and found it was a lost cause. Under such conditions the very field of cosmology became meaningless. Predictions were impossible. Theories about the Big Bang, laws of nature and the far future of our universe held no water. But he knew. Or so they say. She looked over to Stilgar when he spoke. He believed in Paul being his god more than most. There was that familiar fanatical twinkle in his eyes which many around Paul seemed to carry. “There has been civil unrest on Kaitain, but I assure you we have it under control.” Stilgar spoke proudly. “The battle of Giedi has been won, my Lord.” Gurney chimed in, a contentment in his tone. The entire table rumbled in pleased words. “Zanbar is underway.” “We’re looking to deploy to Kirath next.” What if it wasn’t infinite? She wondered. In a finite universe, there would be an end and a beginning. The cycle repeating itself over and over again. So which was it? “How many are estimated to be dying?” Irulan made the question loud enough to be heard and the table went quiet again. When no one spoke she looked to one of the mentats with a collected stare. “You can calculate that, can’t you? With the spice productions cut and some planets besieged already. What are predicted estimations for deaths going forward?” “14 million per day, my Lady.” A mentat spoke up. “And how many planets?” The mentat worked their computations. “On the low end, we’re looking at fifteen to thirty planetary systems may be sterilized.” She didn’t need to ask the high-end. There was no need. She’d heard enough. Her eyes betrayed no feelings when they set upon Paul. Though her curt questions may have gave an inkling to her thoughts. “I know these Houses. Not all need such a violent hand. I’ve been told Lord Blackwood is still in hiding on Kaitain. I propose we hold off attacking Kirath until we can set up a line of communication with the Lord. He will likely submit now that his strongest allies are gone.” Stilgar spoke up in an angry snap. “Blasphemy! The sands cannot be taken from the direction of the wind.” Throwing Irulan an icy stare. His prophetic words from the deep deserts explained the Fremen would not wait. This was to be a great purge and it was beginning to spread fast. Irulan leaned back in her seat and waved her hand in a heavy gesture. “I’m simply asking for a handful of days to track him down and speak. We owe it to the people and their families we’re about to murder that we first tried another option when we knew one is available.”

Continued on our jcink rp!

[yelenasdiary]

Aaah! I just saw Dune 2 and I loved it! I was satisfied with the few bits we got from Irulan. Her character seems really smart and cunning and not some pampered princess. Though, I couldn't tell what emotion Princess Irulan was feeling when Paul revealed what he wanted from her.

The rest was great too. Timothy's acting was amazing and the woman that played Lady Jessica was excellent.

I'm actually going to read the main series since they say Dune 3 could be out around 2028-2030.

I'm hoping to come across Irulan x reader fanfiction one day. 🤞🏿🤞🏿🤞🏿

I just saw this,

I'm glad you enjoyed it!! I really wanna go watch it for a second time but I don't think I'll have much time between work and preparing for my UK friend to stay with me for 3 weeks lmao

Surely they won't make us wait THAT long for Dune 3!!!!!

As for the fanfic, I would also like to see some!! Maybe if I come up with a good idea, I'll write it!

[kasagia]

Dancing with the devil IV

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem! royal!reader Summary: Unknowingly, you fall into a trap from which it will be difficult to get out. The only solution seems to be to make a pact with the devil himself. A devil who seems all too happy to finally get his hands on you. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~

“It's a refreshing change. Don't you think, Y/N?” Your friend inquires as you sit on the windowsill, gazing out at the landscape of Kaitain.

You hum, nodding your head, keeping your watchful gaze on the ramp where the next ships are landing. A shiver runs through you as you recognise the familiar black Harkonnen orb. Whoever designed their ships must have worked hard to even make them look... disquieting. Y/F/N notices what you are staring at.

"Don't worry." You comfort her and hold her hand. "I won't let you marry that brute. There is no worse fate than being Harkonnen's wife."

"It's not that… just if it was someone else. Na-Baron, for example." You tense slightly at her mention of Feyd. Your eyes follow hers, and you notice her staring at him longingly as he walks out, surrounded by his soldiers. You feel bile rising in your throat.

"Na-Baron?" You ask stupidly, trying to ignore the sudden, unexpected feeling of jealousy. Which, of course, was a pure act of stupidity on your part. Because how could you be jealous of Harkonnen? And yet, you felt like gouging out your friend's eyes for staring at your Feyd for too long.

"He... isn't that bad at all. Despite what they say about him. He cared about me there - on Giedi Prime. In their crazy way... but thanks to him, the stay there wasn't so... terrible." You tense up and roll your eyes at her words.

As if there could be angels on Giedi Prime. As if HE could be something more than the cunning devil who breaks hearts, takes the souls and lives of innocent people. As if he could be something more than a bloodthirsty sadist raised by the most disgusting man who ever lived.

"Believe me, it's just a facade. The moment you let your guard down, he will show you his true colors. And this is a far cry from the image of his personality he painted in your head. He wants you to consider him your ally. This way, it will be easier for him to use you for his own benefits. Spying on his brother or something like that, I'm not sure yet. Maybe he's also looking for sexual release after his harpies are dead?"

"Y/N!"

"What? I'm just thinking out loud." You reply with a shrug. Your gaze remains focused on Na-Baron. Princess Irulan welcomes him and his brother rather reluctantly. She behaved quite similarly towards you. Except for her special coldness and malice reserved for you, to which you had become accustomed by now.

"You must know him very well to see through his intentions so quickly. I also remember that as children you were often in the company of him, Paul Atreides and Princess Irulan."

You flinch when Na-Baron's gaze suddenly turns to the palace. But you know it's impossible for him to recognise your silhouette among the palace's many windows... or at least you hoped so. Regardless, you decide not to tempt fate and walk away from the window, turning around to face your friend.

"That was a long time ago."

"But you must know him very well. Or at least the child he was."

"Trust me, he was never a child." You reply, pouring yourself a glass of wine. You don't want to tell her anything else.

You don't want to explain to her exactly when Feyd lost his childhood, when he stopped being your friend and the boy you played with, when you lost him, when the place of the charming boy from Lankiveil was taken by the bloodthirsty, psychopathic, brutal Na-Baron of Giedi Prime. Because only you knew the Prince of Lankiveil. And the memory of him will follow you to your grave.

Because you knew there was no salvation for him, that the boy you gave your heart to was dead, and his murderer was none other than the Baron. And all you have left of him is a shell. The one he gave you and the shell of who he once was were a living and painful reminder of what you lost because of the Baron and Princess Irulan. And because of your own fear.

"I'm bored." You tell Feyd as you sit next to each other in the feast hall.

Your parents, his brother, and his uncle are celebrating with the other great families the birth of the Emperor's (another) daughter, and you and the rest of the children are forced to attend the event until your maids take you away.

And this has been going on for you for ages.

"Act like a lady and don't whine." Feyd responds to you, rolling his eyes at you slightly. You punch his arm, causing him to gasp and look at you indignantly.

"Act like a child and don't talk to me like you're my mother."

"What do you want to do?" He sighs, shaking his head at you.

If he had to list his weaknesses, you would definitely be the first of them on his list. He was always waiting for the moment where he could free himself from Giedi Prime and his uncle's gaze to spend a few minutes with you. You gave him... a sense of freedom. With you, he didn't have to worry about how he acted—whether he was too soft or too lenient.

He could have just been a child for a while—a boy from Lankiveil he had almost forgotten about. A boy you seemed to like quite a lot. And he tried his hardest to show you that he was still able to find in himself nooks and crannies that weren't polluted by the Baron. Mentally and physically.

"To sleep. But I don't have my teddy bear and blanket." Feyd tries his best not to laugh, but he allows his mouth to open slightly, making sure to keep it closed.

He didn't want to scare you with his black teeth—an addition recently introduced on Baron's orders. Feyd couldn't quite get used to them yet. He remembered breaking all the mirrors in his chambers the first day he saw his new row of black teeth. Over time, however, he got used to them, like everything else on Giedi Prime.

"What?" You ask as he stares at you for a few too many seconds or minutes. Feyd clears his throat and manages to lower the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing. I may be not as soft as your precious teddy bear and blanket, but I can keep you warm. And my cloak is... possibly the coziest thing I have." He answers awkwardly, already taking off his coat. He wraps it around you without waiting for your response, remaining in his black military armor.

He knows that the next day he will have scrapes and bruises from too tight armor. He should have gotten a bigger one a long time ago, but the Baron seemed to insist that Feyd keep his old clothes for as long as he could.

"You allow me to nuzzle up to you?" You ask, surprised, as he wraps his arm around you.

Feyd didn't particularly like physical contact; sometimes he flinched when someone's skin touched his—a reaction he tried to hide. However, apart from you, there was one other person who also noticed it. And while Feyd should have hated the Atreides, he would remain forever grateful to Letto Atreides, who had invited him to spend the summer with his son, you, and Princess Irulan shortly after Rabban and he had moved to Giedi Prime. It was the best summer of his life since leaving Lankivieil. A moment of respite.

However, with you, sometimes he could afford to feel your body a little closer to him. Most of all, he WANTED to feel your body press against his. Which, over the years spent on Giedi Prime, was a very rare, even unheard of feeling for him.

"I allow you to rest on me and take a nap. My mother... my mother did this a lot with my father when she was pregnant and had to sit in on these meetings." Feyd says he has vague memories of his mother being pregnant with her third child and how his father acted towards her—before all hell broke loose on Lankiveil, when he could still be... normal.

"But I am not pregnant. And we are not married." You point it out maliciously, but your head is already falling onto his shoulder. You wrap your hand around his waist and snuggle into him. Feyd suppresses a blush as you unconsciously nuzzle his neck and inhale his scent. You were too innocent to know what it did, and he was too tainted for his body not to react to it. Despite everything, he controls himself and holds you, making sure you don't fall out of your chair.

"But you are tired, aren't you?" He hums against your ear, fully aware that you're about to drift off into his arms. And that he would rather kill himself than let anyone take you away from him.

"I am. And I also never miss a chance to hug you, my grumpy Na-Baron." He furrows his hairless eyebrows, unconsciously tracing patterns on your arm with his finger. He relaxes, seeing that his uncle has left the party. So did the young servant who served him. A shiver runs through him, but he ignores it. His focus is on you. On your slow breathing, on your smell, on your warmth, on how perfect you feel next to him, as if you were his missing half. And Feyd allows himself to believe for a moment that this may be the case—that you are truly written in the stars for him.

"I am not grumpy." He says, rolling his eyes at your taunt and completely ignoring Princess Irulan's glare from across the room.

"You are. Like those funny green creature from Paul's book. You know, the old one with weird pictures."

If Feyd could, he would forbid you from meeting Atreides. Unfortunately, your parents seemed to insist on this special closeness to this family. And you loved reading. Same as Paul. Feyd's only consolation was that when Atreides didn't have a book in his hand, he lost any interest in you. Unlike him. He had your attention, regardless of what he was doing or what he might be giving you at that moment.

"Sleep." He mumbles and presses a kiss to your tample.

"Don't tell me what to do. I am not your wife." You mumble, half asleep, but you give in to him anyway and fall asleep on him. You press your cheek against his shoulder, and he begins to worry that his hard armour might accidentally leave a scratch on your cheek. He gently lifts your head and places his hand under your cheek to make sure you don't feel any sharp, protruding metal decorations.

"You are not... but you will be." He promises, fully convinced that you're already asleep and don't hear his little promise. He tightens his hand around you and listens to your calm breathing and heartbeat, wishing that he could listen to this beautiful music every day. Not only during boring balls that you both hate.

You sigh, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your maid gives you a horrified look as you lunge at the mannequin in the training room. Stabbing the puppet several times with your blade, taking out your frustration and energy on him.

When you feel the air moving behind you and the added presence, you don't hesitate. You turn around, your blade colliding with Feyd's, and glare at him in response to his cocky smirk.

"I see that old habits die hard. Why don't you accept a real challenge instead of taking out your anger at this motionless pile of threads?"

"Why don't you do it instead of tormenting Atreides' drugged soldiers? At least I don't get dirty while playing with my motionless pile. Not like you." You say, stepping away from him. You let the hand with your dagger fall as you walk over to the table for a drink of water. You freeze, feeling the cool tip of his steel against your throat.

"How many times have I told you not to turn your back on your opponent? Besides..." He steps closer, his chest pressing against your back as he leans in to whisper in your ear. "Did you have the same fun with my harpies? Didn't you want to get dirty, and that's why you chose poison to kill them? And you accuse me of being a bloodthirsty, jealous beast... I guess we're more alike than you want to admit, my little, beautiful, dangerous, jealous swan."

"I… I have no idea what you're talking about." You whisper, tensing in his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that you're alone in the room. He must have gotten your maid out of there somehow. You suddenly feel very vulnerable.

"You do not have? And that's funny. So why did I find a poison in your things the day after they died and just before your departure?" You frown and push his hand with the blade away from you. You turn to look him in the eye, too surprised by his accusation to do anything but say the truth.

"I have no idea. Whatever happened to them, it wasn't me. You know very well that I wouldn't kill anyone." This clearly catches him off guard, and you feel offended that he could be so sure that you took someone's life just because they had the opportunity to fuck him. You roll your eyes at him in annoyance and raise your blade in challenge. You might as well exercise a little while he does his investigation.

"Well… after all, swans don't like getting their beautiful feathers dirty with blood… but who else could do it?" He responds, dodging and blocking all your attacks.

You work harder, jumping away from him and trying to break through his protective shield. You sigh as you manage to get the blade close to his skin, but no telltale shield appears around him. The son of a bitch didn't even put his shield on when fighting you. No one could piss you off and humiliate you at the same time more than him.

"I don't know. I don't care." You growl, pushing against him and trying to draw his black blood at all costs.

You manage to kick him in the stomach, but when he falls, he drags you with him. You land on top of him, but he quickly changes your positions and pins you to the floor beneath him, keeping your wrists in a tight grip as he presses his blade to your neck.

"Do you? Doesn't it make you jealous just thinking that someone could be madly in love with me enough to get rid of the women who give me pleasure? What if you're next on my secret, deadly admirer's little list?" He whispers in your ear, and you shiver as he bites his lobe. He throws his blade aside, his other hand lazily exploring your body, abusing your breast as he squeezes it tightly and digs his fingers into it.

"We have no connections." You moan as his lips move to your jawline. He sucks gently, leaving no trace except a trail of his black saliva as it moves to your exposed neck.

"Not in public. But in the quiet of the night, in your gardens, of my corridors, of the halls of this palace—all these places remember many of our connections."

Unfortunately, he is just as stubborn, maybe even more stubborn than you, and he will do anything to prove that he is right. You gasp, biting your lip, as his hand goes under the fabric of your pants. Your traitorous pussy welcomes his fingers like a permanent resident. You tighten around him, and he chuckles lightly, feeling you already wet. You dig your knee into his stomach, trying to fight back, but he just positions himself between your legs, casually pushing your leg away as if it were just an intrusive, insignificant obstacle to getting what he wants.

"And yet you run from one man to another… but it's my fingers that fill you while you wait for someone to put a ring on your pretty feathers, my little swan." He mumbles against your neck.

You shiver as he pushes his fingers deeper into you, his cold metal Na-Baron signet teasing your warm, wet walls, only making you clench tighter around him.

His hips grind against you madly, his hard length pressing into your thigh as you moan softly, trying miserably to keep from making any grinding sound when all you want to do is feel him deep inside you, splitting you open for him.

"And you… you're pathetic for always looking for me and coming back." You respond, feeling your pleasure building within you. You grind away from him, angling his fingers just right, deciding that since you were already in this position, you might as well show him that you were using him and not him using you. After all, you were always the one who came, not him.

"I am." Surprisingly, he nods, caressing your clit with his thumb as the rest of his fingers penetrate you mercilessly. "And you come pathetically beautiful with my name on your swollen lips. We are both humiliating each other. And we both love it." And that's exactly when he pushes you over the edge. You lift up and connect your lips in a kiss to stop yourself from screaming his name, knowing full well that the guards are outside and could… really guess what happened between you behind closed doors.

You admit to yourself that you loved his plush, soft, full lips on yours, the way he caressed yours, the way his tongue slipped in unnoticed, you loved kissing him. His kisses made you more addicted to him than the orgasms he gave you. That's why you made sure you had them very rarely. Because no one else's mouth has ever given you as much pleasure as his.

In the frenzy of the kiss, he releases your wrist and cups his hand around your cheek. You sigh, biting his lower lip. This is the only warning you give him before you plunge your dagger into his back.

He screams as your blade pierces his skin. Your fingertips are sticky with his thick, black blood, but you don't care. You look him straight in the eyes and rip the dagger from his body, giving him another wave of pain.

"How many times have I told you to never let your guard down?" You ask, using the exact same tone he used as soon as he held the knife to your neck.

You push him away from you and stand up, straightening your clothes a little. He laughs hoarsely and shakes his head in disbelief, still looking at you and ignoring the burning pain in his back. He had wounds worse than a swan's bite.

He comes to you on his knees and takes your fingers into his mouth, sucking his black blood from them and never taking his eyes off you. You dig your fingers into the skin of his pale scalp and tilt his head back, breathing quickly as you melt into the gaze of his cold, oceanic irises and dilated pupils. You can't fucking believe he got so turned on by your stabbing. And that you, too, felt hot again.

"You are sick." You whisper as he lets your fingers pull out with a loud pop. His now gray saliva had replaced his black blood.

"Just like you."

Before you can deny it, the door to the training room creaks loudly. You pull Feyd up, forcing him to stand up, and you wipe his saliva off your fingers on your shirt.

"Michael. You always know when to come. Na-Baron and I were training and unfortunately he got injured."

"Yhm... very unfortunately." Feyd mumbles sarcastically. When you go to Michael, you step on Feyd's foot. You pretend it never happened and join the man's side. He smiles at you, his two-toned eyes hypnotising you for a moment, and a huge smile appears on your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Feyd frowning. There is no better feeling than rubbing salt into someone's wound.

"Always here for you, my love." He says and places a kiss on your forehead. "You should go to the healers, Na-Baron. We wouldn't want such a small wound to do a serious harm to your health. After all, soon we will be celebrating... important events." Michael says this and wraps his arms around my waist, pressing me against him.

"Of course." Feyd growls and nods. He walks away, leaving the two of us alone in the training room, and closes the door loudly behind him.

"He insisted that I train with him. Believe me, I would never…"

"When you will be my wife I won't allow you to do such things." He interrupts your attempt to explain himself and takes your dagger, which is covered in Feyd's blood, from you. He throws it into a box of various weapons and turns back to you.

"Excuse me?" You ask, both surprised and annoyed by his condescending behavior.

"No worry, sweetheart. You are still learning." You feel like he slapped you. He treats you so condescendingly, as if you meant absolutely nothing, as if your opinion was not important to him at all. This sudden change surprises you and makes you even more nervous. However, you cannot understand the reason for his sudden rude behavior. Was it jealousy?

"You know usually women after such a... blunt statment doesn't marry the man who said it."

"Oh, you think you will have a choice?" He asks mockingly and plays with your hair, fixing your hairstyle to his liking. You push his hands away from you and glare at him furiously.

"Won't I?" You ask defiantly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"After my people attack your home planet? I don't think so."

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, completely shocked. He lazily, casually reaches for your chin and lifts it to look at you closely.

Your brain races like crazy, trying to ignore the fatigue in your muscles from fighting the Na-Baron as you wonder if he's just joking with you or if he really means what he said. A shiver passes through you when his fingertip brushes against your cheek.

"I told you. I want to achieve something. To prove myself in the eyes of the emperor. As we speak, my troops are boarding the ships on my home planet. Tomorrow morning, your father will receive notice of the start of war with my country. And you, darling, you will be a beautiful spoil of war. The proof of my greatness."

"You... all those meetings with me on my home planet... you didn't want to marry me; you wanted to explore and review our fortifications and the training of our soldiers. Test the ground before sending your men on my land."

"Your father's lands. You may be smart, honey, but you're only a woman. All you have is a title and a royal pussy. Although your mind and beauty are a dangerous combination. Maybe I should make you my wife instead of a concubine?"

"You… you can't… you won't." You shake your head, trying to deny what he just said. He couldn't just take everything from you, your whole life.

You try to control your emotions and not give him the satisfaction of completely destroying your world. He makes you feel so guilty; after all, you were actually the one who let him onto your planet and showed him around all the places he wanted. How could you be so stupid and naive? How could you not sense that he was more interested in your military and the weak points of your planet than in you?

"Oh, honey... don't insult your own intelligence now. You know very well that I can. You have nothing. No allies, no strong friend. I am your only serious admirer since Atreides. You're lucky I'm a gentleman. I will not touch you until your land, crown, and title are officially mine. And I will give you a good future. You could always end up in a brothel. Don't be a brat and appreciate it, my beautiful war booty."

His touch burns you in an unpleasant way. You want to bite off his hand, but you need to get more information from him to prepare some kind of action plan. You need to lower his guard just as he lowered yours.

"Why are you doing this? If you had married me, you would have had it anyway. Without any war."

"I told you. I want to prove my worth. To achieve something. In small steps. First, I will conquer one planet, then another. You have the honour of being my first conquest. And who knows? Maybe you'll even become empress by my side. Now smile nicely, darling. Your depressed face is ruining my mood."

So you smile. You put on a good face for a bad game and try to control your anger and despair. Because what can you do with them now? Nothing at all. You needed a different approach. Better. Smarter. You couldn't just give up your future without a fight; let him take over your country and do what he wanted to you. If you were going to be someone's property, wife, trophy, or whatever, you wanted to decide who it would be.

Michael was wrong. You had one secret ally who was much stronger than him. But you know very well that asking him for help will cost you a lot. Unfortunately, you were not in a good situation. You were in a hopeless position. So it required you to take desperate, risky, and embarrassing measures. This required making a pact with the devil himself.

" I need to talk with you." You say this as soon as the door opens for you, before you change your mind and run away. You tug at the sleeve of your silk robe and stare pleadingly into the ocean irises before you.

"At this time? What do I owe this pleasure to?" He mocks you, crossing his arms over his bare chest. You swallow, looking away from his muscles and back into his eyes.

"Feyd. Please." You say this seriously, looking around to make sure no one sees you at his door. He tenses a little, hearing the desperation in your voice. Wordlessly, he moves to the side, allowing you to step inside.

He closes the door behind you, and you shudder as you realise there's no going back. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths and trying to calm down. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows at your condition. He walks over to you and tentatively places a hand on your shoulder, not used to comforting... anyone. Not since the two of you were kids.

"Y/N. What happened?"

"I need your help." You reply and move away from him. Feyd sees you trying your hardest to control your emotions. The same way that even though he's happy about your late-night visit and the sight of you in that skimpy robe, you look terrified and disgusted that you have to be here.

"Y/N..."

"Michael wants to attack my home planet and dethrone my father. In the process, make me his whore or wife. He's not sure yet." You interrupt him and blurt it out before he says anything else.

This stuns Feyd for a moment as he takes in this new information. He would have smiled at the mockery and anger in your voice if his blood hadn't boiled at the thought that you could belong to anyone other than him. That anyone else would have the right to touch you like he did and has long dreamed of doing even more.

"Your duke that you've been parading around with and admiring for the last few months? The same one you hug and cling to at every recent party?"

"Yes."

"The one you gave the right to hold you and kiss you?"

"Yes."

"The one..."

"YES! This one!" You interrupt him, annoyed and embarrassed. You sigh, rubbing your eyes, and realise that screaming at him and venting your anger isn't the best idea right now if you want to ask for his favour. "Please, help me."

"And what I can do? You chose your fiancé. Or a lover. Whatever. What do you want me to do? Fight with him for your hand? And then get rejected by you? Thrown away when you don't need me anymore?" He mocks you, turning his back on you. He pours himself a glass of wine and sips it leisurely, making no move to turn towards you.

"Feyd. Please. I beg you. I... my people can't die just because of the whim of some man." You say, your voice cracking. Your throat burns from the dryness, and tears suddenly appear in your eyes. This is a very strange phenomenon considering that you have been crying for the last three hours in your chambers.

Your sniffling makes Feyd involuntarily turn back to you. This is a bad move. His heart clenches uncomfortably at the sight of your watery eyes and red nose. He wants to take you in his arms, run his hand through your hair tenderly, and sink into your touch.

"You know very well, little swan, that this is how most wars start. By the whim of one man." Feyd says, crossing his arms over his chest to somehow keep from touching you, from taking you in his arms and burying his face in your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. He had to play this... unique opportunity well. If he won't have you willingly, he might as well have you by trick.

"I will do everything." He does everything not to smile, not to immediately make his demands. He has been waiting so long to have you that a few minutes more won't do a big difference to him.

"So get ready for the husband of your own choosing." He says icily, acting unfazed, as if the mere thought of someone else having you didn't make him want to murder every man who ever had the chance to touch you.

As if he didn't dream at night of having you by his side, of arguing with you every day, of having you with him forever on Giedi Prime, sitting on the throne next to him and being as terrifying as he is.

"Feyd..." You mumble and walk over to him. Feyd tenses, controlling all his muscles, stopping them from making the slightest movement towards you.

He watches your every move carefully as you approach him. The air between you is thick and full of tension. He swallows when you come within his reach and tries his best not to even touch you with his fingertip. However, all his control is put to the test when you stand directly in front of him and lean towards him.

Feyd clenches his fists tightly, so tightly that he feels the blood slowly seeping from where his nails dig into his abalaster skin. The familiar scent of you and your favourite perfume reaches his nostrils, and Feyd does the stupidest thing he can do at that moment. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply into your sweet, seductive scent.

"You can have me. Right now. Wherever you want. However you want. Wouldn't you like to? All you have to do is order some troops to my home planet and scare off Michael's army." You whisper into his ear, brushing your lips against his lobe. Feyd holds his breath as your lips trace his jawline and up to his neck, where you begin to kiss and suck his skin.

Feyd stands frozen, unable to move, allowing you to do whatever you want with him. He sighs as your two long, delicate hands slip under his black robe and caress his chest. His heart is racing as you play with his nipples, pinching them and twisting them in your fingers as you work tirelessly to leave as many marks on his neck as possible. He grunts, trying to stifle a groan as he feels his manhood respond to your caresses and begin to harden painfully.

He reaches for your hips and pulls you closer to him, and Feyd would probably give in to his desires if he didn't feel you tense up under his touch. He sighs and musters all his willpower to grab your arms and pull you away from him.

"You can't just... kiss me, come into my chambers dressed like that at this hour, and demand such things from me when all you show me is hatred and loathing. Don't act like a whore. I won't fall for it. I… not when I know you don't mean anything that you are doing right now." He says this without meeting your eyes, somehow unable to see your reaction. He lets go of you, as if touching you hurts him, and walks to the other side of his chamber, escaping to the balcony.

A cold breeze hits his skin. He sighs, gripping the railings tightly and holding on to them with all his might, as if crushing the marble in his hands would bring his full self-control back.

It doesn't take a minute for your scent to hit his nostrils again.

"And how I should act?! What do you think I can do?!" You shout after him, walking towards him. Feyd tenses, sensing your presence behind him, but makes no move to turn towards you. You sigh in defeat, and Feyd thinks you've given up when suddenly he hears your shaky voice and your pure panic as you try to convince him to help you one last time. "My people will die tomorrow morning, I… I'm begging you. Please, I will do anything, Feyd. Whatever you want."

"Then marry me." He replies, his back still turned to you as he stares into the distance at the Kaitain hills in front of him.

Even though he can't see your face, he can clearly hear the gasp of shock you let out. He imagines your beautiful, full lips falling open, your eyes widening, and you holding your breath as you process his words. He knew that this was the only way for now to ensure his right to you—to make a claim. He had too little time to try to change your opinion of him.

When you're finally "safely his", then Feyd can try to fight for your affections and prove that he is not the monster you think he is. For now, your anger will have to be enough for him. But he would eventually melt it. You loved him once; when you were kids, he might try to make you feel this way about him again.

"What?" You ask, shocked. Feyd slowly turns towards you, and this time he takes a step closer to you, making you both breathe the same air again.

"You have two options. You can agree to... your Michael's terms, marry him and be his property for the rest of your life... or you will marry me and I will protect you, your parents and your people from anyone's invasion." He replies calmly and unfazed, keeping his hands behind his back.

"And be yours property for the rest of my life?" You ask mockingly, almost furiously, with that gleam of mischief in your eyes that Feyd loved so much. This was his little swan. Finally.

It might have been nice to have your mouth and hands on him, but in your case, he didn't want forced submission. He wanted just that blazing fire that captivated him, where he could burn himself if he made one wrong move. He wanted it all... even if he had to gently steer you down the right path—down the altar to him and only him.

"Don't pretend to be so disgusted. We both know how you love some... aspects of being my property. A moment ago you were begging me, saying you would do whatever I wanted. Marry me then. What would you say?"

"I... you know I have no other optiom... neither time to assure I will have any other option. But we also know that I don't trust you and never will." He nods, knowing full well that trust will be the last thing he gets from you. But if Feyd valued anything in life, it was his honor.

"You have my word. I will protect your people as mine. Even better. My uncle or brother or I will never order to attack your home planet. You would became one of our closest ally and thus ensure your country the safety against anyone's invasion. It's a win win situation."

"And how you will win?"

"I will get you." He replies with a shrug, as if it were an obvious reward.

He sees the gears in your head turning as you silently consider all the consequences and benefits of marrying him. He knew clearly that this wasn't what you wanted, that your search for a husband was supposed to be completely different, that he was probably the last man you wanted as a husband, from whom you wanted a nice ring, whose planet you wanted to move to, but Feyd had been waiting for you for so long; he did so much to have you that the circumstances of your marriage didn't really matter to him anymore.

"You will get bored of me. You can't love or trust, not trully or neither can be loved or trusted by anyone else. You know that what's going on between us won't be sexy anymore when it will be no longer forbidden." Your words somehow hurt him more than the worst wound he received. He grunts, clenching his fists behind him, waiting for the unexpected, unpleasant lump in his throat to subside so he can somehow respond to your blasphemous words.

"That's how you see your future husband?" He finally asks, glad that he managed to keep his voice from shaking.

"I didn't say yes to anything yet."

"But we both know you will. You have tied hands. And we both know that you can't dance with them for a long, before you fall." His comment makes you even more furious. Feyd does his best not to smirk at your flushed cheeks and pursed lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss those lips so much…

"Yes... but you can put chains on them instead of ropes and I will be even worse tied." You respond calmly, carefully analysing his words, looking for a trap—a hidden intention behind his actions beyond his obvious desire to marry you.

"I guess you have to take a risk." He replies calmly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hmm. Such a convinient situation for you." You mutter, crossing your arms. His eyes automatically fall on the valley of your breasts, but he quickly tries to return his attention to your eyes. If everything goes his way, he'll soon be able to caress every inch of your body he wants.

"Very much. I got to call you my wife and all I have to do is to scare away some lord's family who shouldn't even touch you in the first place."

"I decide who touch me." You say, angry that he hasn't even put a ring on your finger yet, and he's already forbidding you from doing something.

"Not for long I guess."

He sees you biting your lip in anger. You take a step towards him, and Feyd thinks you're going to slap him, but you do something completely different. You cup his cheek in your hand and lean in to whisper in his ear:

"I hate you so much. With whole my heart. If you think this will somehow change my opinion of you, you are wrong. I feel exactly the same about you, and maybe even worse things than what I told you on Giedi Prime. You are the baron's spoiled nephew who only has to snap his fingers to get something. I hate you and I will hate you forever, no matter what you do, no matter how well you fuck me, how good or bad of a husband you are, my feelings towards you will remain the same as they are now." And with that, you press your lips to his, sealing your promise with a sudden, unexpected kiss.

Feyd moans into your mouth, feeling himself start to get hard again, which should be absurd in this situation, but he remembers times when he was aroused by… worse things.

"Is that a yes?" He asks, swallowing thickly as your lips leave his—too quickly for Feyd to enjoy the taste and softness of them.

"What the fuck do you think I can do in this situation?" You growl at him angrily, at which he smiles, unable to stop himself, showing you his row of black teeth. Surprisingly, you don't tremble in fear or disgust.

"I want to hear it."

"And I want a decent proposal." You reply in return, forever trying to argue with him.

You're surprised when he walks past you and goes back to his room. You stand alone on the balcony for a moment, taking a shaky breath and staring at the stars in the sky, wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation. Just a week ago, the idea of marrying Feyd would have seemed completely absurd to you.

You freeze in shock when he comes back with a small black box and actually kneels down in front of you.

"Y/N Y/L/N. The darkness of my life, the bane of my existence, the ghostly apparition that haunts my dreams, the heartless witch, the murderous siren, the deceptive nymph leading me to my death, will you do me an honour of beeing my wife and let me fuck our heirs into you?"

You would have smiled at this if his icy blue eyes weren't piercing through yours and carefully analysing your every little reaction. You don't even look at the ring he's offering you—a ring he clearly must be wearing somewhere close to himself. Your heart is racing, despite the fact that this isn't exactly the proposal you wanted. Despite everything, it is... in a strange and twisted way, a nice feeling.

"You could try better." You finally reply in a hoarse voice, suddenly aware of how dry your throat is.

"I am waiting for an answer." He growls, really waiting for your response.

If it weren't for the nature of the whole situation, you'd actually think it was cute. The way the most dangerous man in the world kneels before you, asking for your hand. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself before signing a pact with the devil.

"With great disgust and reluctance: yes."

"Yes what?"

"Haven't you already had your fun?" You ask, frowning furiously. He bites his tongue to keep from giggling, absolutely loving to tease you.

"I didn't even start, my little swan." You roll your eyes at him and look at him expectantly, sticking out your hand. But he makes no move to put the ring on it. You decide not to fight him on this one matter.

"Yes. I will marry you, Feyd-Rautha."

You can see from his face that he is remembering these words and that he is taking a mental picture of this moment. He takes the ring out of the box and, with unusual gentleness for him, takes your hand in his and slides the metal onto your finger.

The ring is nice. Made of white gold, its eyelet is a black onyx stone, which is held by engraved flowers on a metal ring. It was… astonishingly beautiful and thoughtful. And not as big as you assumed it would be. Y/F/N got a ring with a gemstone on half of her finger. You're surprised Feyd didn't give you something similar.

"There. Was that so hard?"

It's a tricky question. Because, as much as that ring weighed on your finger, you couldn't admit that you hated the whole idea of marrying him with all your heart. After all, you could do worse than him... right?

Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73

Taglist for DWTD: @iloved1lfs0 @heartarianagran @hueanhdang @barnes70stark @forgedfromthestars

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (I)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: Your father had been promised an heir. But the choices made by another stole that fate from you. Now it's your turn to take theirs.

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.2k

dividers / masterlist

“Again,” the swordmaster calls out. 

Gritting your teeth, you comply and fall back in position with the others. All this show for what?

With a nod, a troubadour began to pluck at the strings of her Baliset again. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips. This is a waste of time.

Air stills as the rest of the women swirl away from you when another Baliset, one played with a bow sliding against its strings, joins the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They sing in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin to match the skirts of the others now twirling in a circle around you until the music slows.

Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool in the center. Soft, slow pattering of the drums begins as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. The women bend a knee where they twirled. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.

This is the silliest part. You face a non existent opponent. Bringing your sword forward you drop into a defensive stance. The music rises and now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until you drop the sword. Your arm extends to the partner who does not exist and spin into nothing as the music reaches a crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the abyss until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.

One of the girls is quick to retrieve and return the swords to you. In contrast, you’re slow to sheath them. You’re not eager to hear the word you know waits on his tongue. But you can only stall for so long.

You turn and face him. His voice cuts sharply across the silent hall. “Again.”

“You look ridiculous,” your father says under his breath so only you can hear. 

A gown, styled after your mother’s House, hung loosely on your frame, hiding any hint of the woman’s body beneath it. You feel ridiculous in it, but had thought it better than the other options. You should have known there was nothing you could have worn that would please him.

“My apologies, father.”

He scoffs. Nothing you do will ever please him.

It’s why you still cannot understand why this celebration is being held. He saw no honor in you being born, why would he see it in you coming of age? And to invite the likes of the Atreides? Was this all some masochistic need to see the son he should have had?

He says outloud, “Don’t embarrass me.” In your head you hear the word he leaves unspoken. ‘Again.’

The Major Houses arrive hours apart, the lucky few Minor Houses invited padding the time between. First is the Princess Irulan. Beautiful, graceful, kind. She compliments you, embracing you as if you’d been friends for life. And it feels as such. A connection left despite the broken destiny. There would be no marriage, but your father whispers that a friendship could offer nearly as much.

The Atreides come next. The Duke is handsome. His concubine, Lady Jessica, hides behind a veil. A Bene Gesserit indeed. Their son, Paul, is charismatic and not as handsome as his father, but more beautiful. He places a kiss on your hand, complimenting your dress and, as he calls them, your lovely eyes. They fall flat on you, but he seems to preen at your own compliment of his hair with a boyish grin painting his face.

Your father’s mood shifts when they and their people are led away to the castle. “Well done. Who knew you could charm so well.” The praise, as backhanded as it is, prickles your skin. “Let’s hope can you keep it up.”

At last, as the sun sets, the Harkonnens arrive. 

Pale and hairless, they're intimidating in their black attire. The Baron did not come, instead having his nephews take his place. The eldest, Count Glossu Rabban, is a giant of a man. From the stories you’ve heard, he's a sadist but an idiot. In his shadow lies the true danger. 

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. He’s deceptively slight next to his brother. But to be the chosen heir for a House like the Harkonnens there must be a brutal intelligence. Like Paul he takes your offered hand and presses his lips against it. They’re cold, chapped and rough. Unlike Paul he offers a grin that had no boyishness left. Blackened teeth bared, he tugs your arm harshly. You stumble forward into him. The hand he doesn’t hold presses against his chest to catch yourself, the one he does hold twisting out of his grip.

Warm metal presses against your throat. 

Something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as they rove over your. It’s the only sign that he probably doesn’t want to kill you. There’s a measured pause of his gaze, first on the blade then sinking lower, before it flits back to your own. His voice is raspy as he speaks, “It is a pleasure to be here for your coming of age, my lady.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. The blade retreats. His eyes don’t leave yours as he releases you, flips it, and offers you the hilt. “A gift.”

“Thank you,” you say, hoping your voice holds firm, and reach for the dagger. 

A hand flashes from behind you with a plea of, “Allow me, my lady,” from a guard. 

Feyd, tisked, pulling it out of reach. “It is not a gift for you.”

You’re unceremoniously knocked aside when the guard steps between you. “She will be given it after an inspection.”

“An inspection is unnecessary,” you hiss, face warming. It was embarrassing enough he’d managed to catch you and your court so off guard. But to openly suspect him of intending harm, after such a brazen display of weakness, would cement the failure of any good relations between your houses. Your father would never forgive you.

“He poisons his blades,” the guard insists, not quietly enough.

Feyd-Rautha’s laugh is harsh. He turns to the Harkonnens behind him, lifts his arms, and bellows, “He worries I poison the blade!” It humors them. Rabben guffaws as if he’s never heard a funnier joke. When he faces you again his black grin is even wider. He stares down the guard as he slices the blade across his open palm. Blood soils the blade and drips on the stone beneath him. His eyes shift to you again. His tongue juts out. In a grotesque exhibition he licks it. “Death does not wait for you in my hands today.”

“I never suspected it did, Na-Baron,” you agree, stepping around the guard. He moves to stop you, but a harsh glare has him backing down. There’s still a chance to save this. Appease the Harkonnens and quell your father’s resentment you can feel rolling off him in waves behind you. Feyd offers the hilt again and you take it. The blade slices across your own palm without hesitation, your blood joining his on the stone. You extend your hand to him again.

a/n: my first fic! any thoughts would be appreciated 🥰

be my muse

next chapter

[medievalcat]

I finished Dune here are my thoughts

-ok it went really fast! quicker than I expected! I enjoyed it a lot and while I have a lot to read right now I want to read the next few of the series even though I have heard people say it works as a stand alone

-I was pleasantly surprised that Jessica was such a prominently featured narrator...love her...she kind of reminds me of Catelyn? the whole politically intelligent mother of young ruler character who has to deal with a lot and who isn’t usually given much spotlight or a voice in this kind of story

-Paul RODE A WORM. iconic. also I kind of like how the foreshadowing of the later problems surrounding his...public image...are kind of foreshadowed

-Alia is already my fav I know what happens to her....:/

-I can really see how influential it was to the genre...this must have fucked it up in 1960s....

-that being said the whole “group of women do x thing that only a special talented guy can complete” or whatever is a kind of dated trope thats a lil Uncomfortable given what goes down with Alia. make Paul gay and/or a girl lol

also I was gonna use the word “coded” but it’s more explicit than that re the Harkonnens. I don’t think “male character who abuses men/boys” is inherently homophobic to write but theres a difference between like Ramsay and.............the Baron...yea. (also ....... idk how I think the movie should handle the “grooming his nephew from 16 and probably younger” subtext tbh like idk how they should...deal w that)

-I really enjoyed Chani’s character she was so good

-I also liked how every chapter opened with one of the in universe book quotes that was a cool touch and gave us more insight to Irulan and the worldbuilding and how the events were remembered....and the Alia quote....lets hear more of that

-not that it would be a perfect au lining up but maybe like a “they live in the Dune universe” au Catelyn as a bene gesserit Robb as her prophecy son Arya as magic bene gesserit daughter Jeyne W as a fremen girl....:)

-OH WORM?

this movie title is a spoiler

[witchywomanrunningupthathill]

Dreams (Chapter 3 - Herald of the Change)

Pairing: Paul Atreides x OFC

Summary: House Atreides is officially bequeathed Arrakis by the Emperor. House Khumali has its history changed yet again. Rhaenia is put to use. Paul searches for meaning in his dreams.

Warnings: Suggestions of sex, violence (not super graphic), death

Word Count: 4k-ish

A/N: Herald scene dialogue, hangar, cemetery, and officers’ mess scenes taken from the 2021 screenplay.

“When law and duty are one, united by religion, you never become fully conscious, fully aware of yourself. You are always a little less than an individual.”

From Muad’Dib: The Ninety-Nine Wonders of the Universe by the Princess Irulan

Who are you? Those were the words on Paul’s mind as he pulled on his military jacket. He thought himself an idiot for asking that, of all things. At first, he hadn’t known where he’d gone this time while he’d been asleep, but he sure didn’t recognize the place. A large stone keep. It’d been cold, a bit drafty actually. He was surprised considering the way the sun beat down through the high windowns. But he recognized the signs. Tangerine-toned banners… Griffin ornamentation…sandstone…Khumali, he thought, putting his mentat training to the test. Another Noble House – on the decline as of late. He’d read his histories.

House Khumali was younger than House Atreides by only a few centuries. But unlike the Atreides, the Khumali descended from an altogether different world, where there was no Agamemnon, no planet of aqua. Khumali’s story began with the Zensunni Wanderers, ancestors of the Fremen. Following the planet Harmonthep’s destruction, the Zensunni sought out another world and they found Khumali. The Zensunni almost did not settle on the near-desert planet because of the ways of its natives, the Khumal.

The Khumal were a race of engineers, but they were also alchemists, who were responsible for purifying much of the metals used in the construction of Landing Crafts. But the Khumal had niche practices, including fire magick. The Khumal were also griffinlords -- this the Zensunni, and the rest of the Known Universe feared the most about the Khumal. It was believed that the Khumal used magick to create the beasts, but the Griffin is native to the planet’s tropical region, where a majority of the desert oasis and the capital city live. Many of the Zensunni and Khumal mated, supposedly polluting the magical bloodline the Khumal possessed. This led to the thirty-year jihad between both races, however the Zensunni stood no chance facing their Griffin-mastering foes. This prompted their pilgrimage to Arrakis, where they settled next due to the Spice Melange.

The Royal House of Khumali descends from the Zensunni-Khumal race, still leading the critical trade of spacecraft production. Though the Griffins died out thereafter over the next 500 standard years, House Khumali iconizes the mythical beast as a symbol of strength, protection, and miracle realized.

Paul watched his hands in the mirror as they fastened the top button of his jacket. The history had run though his mind like computer binary. His mind shifted briefly to Thufir Hawat, the Atreides mentat, thinking to himself, what a burden it must be to have so much knowledge. But then he thought of himself, of his visions. He closed his eyes briefly, taking in a breath, I must not fear… As he opened his eyes, he heard the door to his room open. It was his father.

“All set?”

“Just about.”

“You’ve handled these past few weeks well. I’m proud of you. We’re almost to the line.”

“Do you ever worry about going to Arrakis.”

Leto paused, thinking carefully of his next words.

“I think that we are prepared to go to Arrakis,” he says. Paul looks his father in the eyes, searching for the meaning of his cryptic language. “It’s time,” Leto adds, pulling an arm around his son for a brief embrace. When he pulls back, he stiffens his posture, holds his head high, looking back at Paul once more before they both exit the boy’s bedroom to meet Jessica in the corridor. They all proceeded to the tarmac.

Atreides flags flapped in the wind as Paul peered up at the distant spaceship in the morning sky. The colossal Imperial Spacecraft landed softly, and soon enough the ship’s door lowered. A green carpet deploys automatically, rolling along the tarmac. Dignitaries exit, men and women and everyone in between in varying ceremonial dress, all led by a man carrying an ornate scroll. He is strikingly regal in both dress and disposition. Atreides officers stand on each side of the imperial party as they stride almost silently across the tarmac. Paul watches the two Bene Gesserit women flanking the Herald from behind.

Rhaenia looks down the carpet where Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, and Paul await. To their left and right stand Thufir Hawat and Gurney Halleck. She grips her hands tightly in front of her, trying to relax. Behind her stand seven members of the Spacing Guild. Their presence is unsettling, but she fights this thought, rejects it, as she continues down the carpet before stopping with the whole party a respectful distance away from the Atreides.

The sun rises slow on Khumali’s horizon. Cassius watches from the castle’s War Room balcony. He closes his eyes, breathes in the air of his homeworld, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest as he heard the Harkonnen ship make its descent. He reopened his eyes and turned back to the room just as Radames entered.

“I’ve instructed the guard to bring them up” Radames said.

“You show the Harkonnens too much trust, brother,” Cassius replied.

“And you show too little faith in me.”

“I only think—”

“We require the spice no more than anyone else in the Known Universe. The Baron can either make right on our demands or he can be left to pick through the fallout once the Emperor gets word of his erm…predilection.”

Cassius had only recently learned of Vladimir Harkonnen’s appetite for young boys. On Radames’ last visit to the Baron, Radames seen and heard far too much of what he shouldn’t. He couldn’t get the image of the boy who looked no older than fourteen out of his mind. He was disgusted that this was the example set by the second-richest house in the Universe.

“A monopoly on spice production and pedophilia… He’s losing one. One must wonder how he plans to make up for the imbalance,” Cassius said. Radames doesn’t respond, only checks his watch.

“They should’ve been up here by now,” Radames said.

Cassius’ heart sunk. He scolded himself for not having taken notice of how quiet the castle had gone only moments ago. As Radames started to say something else, Cassius held his finger up. Both men went still. In the distance, they both heard yells and cries of pain along with the sound of a knife burying itself into a nearby wall.

Both Cassius and Radames looked at one another. Mother. Lady Shirin was on the other side of the castle, and they had no direct route to her from here. They activated their shields. Cassius pulled a pistol from a nearby drawer, while Radames unsheathed his sword. They both exited the room. Outside was a miniscule massacre of Khumali guardsmen. The brothers turned a corner as a Harkonnen trooper entered a nearby room, looking for them, obviously. Cassius motioned for them to go the other direction, down toward the ground floor entrance. Find Shirin and get out unnoticed. That was the plan. The next moment, they faced three Harkonnen men. Or so they believed.

“The Baron sends his regards,” the assassin spoke in the Sardaukar tongue, pulling the pin on a grenade-shaped device and throwing it in the brothers’ direction, before levitating up to the sky.

This section of the castle had no roof. But the gas was flowing too quickly and was too thick to clear the space. Cassius and Radames both saw red as the gas penetrated their failing shields. They coughed, gasped for air, but it was useless. Hydrogen cyanide. The next moment, Cassius was on the ground on all-fours choking and Radames tried to get to his brother despite his own suffering. He felt like his lungs were dissolving and oh how his whole body burned.

Cassius couldn’t take it anymore and succumbed to death, falling over in his brother’s lap. They were never going to meet with Rabban Harkonnen about the spice. Radames watched the life leave his baby brother’s eyes just as tears from the gas irritation blurred his view. As he took his last breath, it was then that he understood the mistake he’d made only one year ago at the Landsraad. He remembered his mother, hoped that she had made it out. And he remembered his sister far away on Kaitain. Rhaenia. His world went black.

Lady Shirin had only minutes left of her life. She’d luckily made it to a hidden chamber underneath one of the castle’s many towers with the greatest haste. She spent her last moments writing urgently on a crumpled piece of parchment. She scrawled in one of the ancient languages to ensure her message’s illegibility. As she finished, she unclasped the large locket from her neck, pulled it open and stuffed the tiny paper inside. She pressed her lips to the warm gold and held the locket in a tight fist.

Suddenly, the secret door was destroyed in a mess of rock, wood, and metal shrapnel. A Sardaukar guard in Harkonnen armor appeared through the smoke.

“Tell the Emperor, he does not know the wrath he awaits,” Shirin said, before pulling a copper dagger from behind her back. She began to chant in Khumali, “Atash…azhar…”

Nothing happened for a moment, until, a rush of flames consumed the Sardaukar soldier. The fire would only attract more soldiers. She then stepped into the flames, which seemed to move out of her way, then drove the dagger through her abdomen. She cried out. A melodious chorus, gathering the strength to use her last breaths.

“Drawad, Rhaenia, akhran az Khumal!” She yelled, eyes wide in crazed determination.

Hail Rhaenia, last of the blood of Khumal. Then Shirin let the fire take her.

Long after the fire had gone out, having overtaken most of Castle Khumali, Three imperial agents searched the rubble to reclaim the last of what had survived. On the spot of Lady Shirin’s death was only scorched stone, a dagger that now appeared to be golden, and a golden locket. The agent picked up the locket and the dagger. On closer inspection, The locket had an ouroboros on the front in the shape of an infinity sign. Inside the two circles were a sun and a moon. The agent carried the bloodless dagger in one hand, pocketed the locket, and made their way back to the spacecraft on which they arrived.

Rhaenia’s stomach flipped as the Herald began in a loud, officious voice:

“By the grace of Shaddam IV of House Corrino, Ascendant to the Golden Lion Throne and Padisha Emperor of the Known Universe, I stand before you as Herald of the Change,” he said, gesturing to those accompanying him. “We are witnessed by members of the imperial court, representatives of the Spacing Guild, and two sisters of the Bene Gesserit.” Reverend Mother Valeria Antony lifts her eyes to see Jessica staring right back at her. “House Atreides is one of the oldest and most respected members of the Landsraad. In the wake of the failure of House Harkonnen, the other Great Houses have turned to you in hope. Shaddam IV agrees. The Herald unfurls the scroll with a pointed snap. “House Atreides will immediately take control of Arrakis and serve as its steward. Do you accept?”

Leto steps forward, and the Atreides turn to face him.

“We are House Atreides. There is no call we do not answer. There is no faith that we betray. House Atreides… Accepts.”

“ATREIDES! ATREIDES! ATREIDES!” the officers shout in one voice.

The Herald nodded, pleased. Leto took the ceremonial quill and signed the scroll. The Reverend Mother and Rhaenia stepped forward. Rhaenia lifted the veil of her habit once more before lighting a small stick of wax. She and Reverend Mother Antony muttered a prayer as the golden wax drips into a pool on the scroll. Paul’s eyes moved from his father to Rhaenia. His words from his dream replayed in his mind.

“Your seal,” the Herald said.

Duke Leto pressed the Atreides ducal ring carefully into the wax. Jessica’s eyes moved to Rhaenia, searching. Rhaenia watched Paul, their eyes only meet for a moment, but it’s long enough for her to communicate what she wanted to him, just before she found Jessica's gaze. You know who I am.

The Reverend Mother looked at Jessica once more, then cast her eyes toward Paul, then back to Jessica. Jessica attempted to keep her composure, but a clear message had just been sent.

The Herald checked the seal and rolled up the scroll.

“The Emperor has assigned a Judge of the Change to oversee the transition. The Judge will meet you upon your arrival.”

"So…it’s done?" Leto asked.

“It’s done," said the Herald, looking into Leto's eyes, a hint of an unsettling smile on his face.

Rhaenia stole one more glance at Paul. He was already looking at her, equal parts inquisitive and captivated. The corners of his mouth rose in a close-lipped smile, barely-noticeable. Then he nervously shifted his gaze over to the Imperial Spacecraft. This was usually the reaction the princess' presence elicited. There was an intensity about Rhaenia that she had not yet learned how to control. She took pride in being watched, in making (mostly men) squirm. But this intensity was also to blame for her loneliness. She had Cassius, Radames (though, they rarely saw one another outside of official matters), Irulan, and the few Bene Gesserit sisters to whom she'd grown close. But perhaps, she'd grown accustomed to thinking, this life was supposed to be a lonely one. In the next, maybe.

Rhaenia, along with the rest of the imperial party, processed back down the carpet into the ship. Goodbye, Paul Atreides, she thought to herself. She turned to see the Reverend Mother watching her as the spacecraft’s door closed once again.

They launch back into the sky, toward the Heighliner that brought them here, into the infinity of space.

The trip on the Heighliner was dark and noiseless. Rhaenia busied herself by conjuring an image of Paul from earlier in the day. He was an attractive boy, beautiful she might say…she had no doubt the ladies of the Imperium were lining up in the hopes of becoming his betrothed, now that he had come of age. She remembered the way her heart raced when their eyes first met. The nervousness. She thought about his smile. Her face warmed at the thought. Then she stopped herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. She doesn’t even know the boy. Besides, she had Irulan, who Rhaenia thought was in for quite a treat once she returned. They hadn’t been intimate for a while, with their Bene Gesserit duties and all of the drama around the palace as of late. Rhaenia squeezed her legs together at the thought of her plans.

Her train of thought was broken by the entrance of Reverend Mother Antony, who came to sit down in front of her.

“Rhaenia, I’ve just received word from His Majesty,” the Reverend Mother starts.

“A report on our mission, I imagine, your Reverence?” Rhaenia says.

“It is another matter, Rhaenia.” She pauses for a long moment. “I was informed of developments on Khumali." Rhaenia's eyebrows rose. "This afternoon your brothers, the Duke Radames, Prince Cassius, and the Lady Shirin were murdered…”

Rhaenia’s stomach drops. The blood leaves her face as her head begins to spin. She doesn’t believe her ears.

“No” Rhaenia says, shaking her head. Tears fall hot and silent down her face. Her frown turned into an attempt to muffle a sob. It was a fruitless effort. Reverend Mother Antony watched, emotionless. Rhaenia cried into her hands. Suddenly, she felt the Reverend Mother’s voice.

 “STOP CRYING!” the Reverend Mother said, using the Voice. Instantly, Rhaenia’s tears stopped flowing, she straightened up, only sniffled once or twice. The Voice was a peculiar thing because while one could take control of another’s mind for a few moments, the person whose mind you took control of could still feel independently of what they were being controlled to do. Quasi-possession, so to speak. A hijacking of the nervous system. And while Rhaenia’s tears no longer showed outwardly, the buildup of despair at the news of her family’s death and rage at the Reverend Mother for using the Voice on her was about to break the metaphorical levy. It made her head pound.

“You musn’t show weakness. Not now. Not here… I have more news for you… The Emperor suggests that you prepare to travel to Arrakis. Both he and Reverend Mother Mohiam are pleased with your work today. This was supposed to be effective immediately, but given the recent events...you have two weeks.”

“I do not wish to go,” Rhaenia said, defeated. She begins mindlessly twirling the ouroboros ring on her finger.

“This isn’t your decision.”

Rhaenia’s dark eyes glisten. The Reverend Mother’s commanding with the Voice had faded quickly, now only Rhaenia stood in the way of herself and showing her emotions. She could feel the Reverend Mother trying to sift her mind. Reverend Mother Antony retreated her psychic attack, and left Rhaenia by herself.

She waited until she could no longer hear the Reverend Mother’s footsteps to break down. Silent sobbing only.

House Khumali, a noble house no more. A dead line, as far as the Imperium was concerned.

She thought of their house symbol, the griffin, and how ridiculous the creature now appeared to her in her mind. The nobles-no-more would be yet another footnote in the long history of the Known Universe.

A fighter spacecraft zoomed recklessly over Caladan's verdant mountains, performing a brutal maneuver between a set of rocks, leaving a thunderous whir in its wake. The craft landed in a military hangar. Nearby, a squad of Atreides commandos prepped equipment: swords, lasguns, rocket launchers… Armor and shield generators. Survival gear.

Duncan Idaho, a powerfully large man, in his pilot’s uniform pulled off his helmet.

“Stabilizers still too loose,” Duncan says.

“We’ll dial ‘em in,” Lanville responds.

“Dial faster,” Duncan says, laying a heavy hand on Lanville’s shoulder. Lanville grins and nods.

Paul walks further into the hangar.

“Duncan.”

“My boy!” He wrapped the boy into a hug. “You put on muscle,” Duncan said, pushing Paul back.

“I did?” Paul asked as he looked down at himself, hopeful.

“Nope” Duncan deadpanned. Paul’s shoulders drooped.

“So you’re going to Arrakis tomorrow. With the advance team.”

“Yep.”

“I’d like you to take me with you.”

“You do? Oh. Too bad. Because no.”

“Duncan—”

“You trying to get me court-martialed?” he asks, studying Paul. “What’s going on?”

“Can I trust you with something?”

“Always. You know that.”

“I’ve been having dreams. About Arrakis…” Paul’s dreams invade his mind. “I saw the spice sands in the deep desert. The Fremen, fighting for their lands.” Harvesters. Harkonnens. The Fremen at war. “And there’s…” A beautiful girl with elven features and blue within blue eyes stares at him through his mind’s eye. Chani. She whispers Paul’s name. “…There’s a girl.”

“Now we’re talking…”

“I saw the Harkonnen legions…”Thousands of Harkonnen soldierns walk into the open bays of their spacecraft. Flags bearing the Harkonnen emblem are everywhere. The industrial-looking flagship lifts off. An imposing fleet of military ships bearing the Harkonnen insignia leaves Arrakis. “I watched them leave Arrakis.”

“Okay, so… you dreamed about stuff we all know about.”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Paul says. Duncan doesn’t respond. “The first dream was a month ago…before any of this happened.”

“Well…that’s a hell of a coincidence.”

“I dreamt about you. With the Fremen.”

“So I will find them! That's as good a sign as any.” Paul only gives him a grim expression. “Right?”

“I saw you lying dead. Fallen in battle."

Duncan blinked.

"Clean shaven."

Duncan's face floods with relief. He claps his hands.

“Whew! Okay! Not gonna die!” He points to his beard, “I shave for no man!”

“Duncan…”

“That’s why you want to come with me!”

“I saw another girl too. A Khumali. She was surrounded by the Fremen.”

“Listen. Dreams make good stories. But everything important happens while we’re awake. Because that’s when we make things happen,” Duncan said, clapping Paul on the arm then heading back to his men. “I hope the girl parts are true!”

Paul stays behind, lost in his thoughts and out of arguments.

Duke Leto stands upon Caladan’s clifftops, cold wind bristling through his hair, the fibers of his clothing. He leaned over to wipe dirt from a gravestone featuring a carving of a man fighting a giant bull. He looks off in the direction of the castle, Paul walking to join him.

“I miss him,” Leto said, giving his grandfather’s gravestone a last look. “That damned bull.” Leto looked around at the serenity of The Ducal Cemetery. “I wish we could bring them all with us.”

“You don’t think we’ll ever come back?”

“Arrakis is far away.”

“Father, want to join Duncan Idaho’s scout mission on Arrakis. I’d be an asset --”

“Out of the question. You’ll travel to Arrakis in a few weeks, like the rest of us,” Leto said, looking his son in the eyes. “I understand your impatience. When we get to Arrakis, I want you to have a seat on my council. It’s time to teach you how we lead.”

“Great leaders are raised in the mud, not around tables.”

“Don’t throw my words back at me. You have responsibilities Duncan Idaho will never have.”

“Grandfather fought bulls for sport!”

“Yes,” Leto motioned back at the tombstone. “And look where that got him.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Not what?”

“The future of House Atreides.”

Leto took a deep breath. He raised his hand, revealing the glinting ducal signet ring. “I told my father I didn’t want this either.” Paul’s eyebrows drew upward in surprise. “I wanted to be a pilot.”

“You never told me that.”

“My father said, ‘A good man doesn’t seek to lead. He’s called to it, and he answers.” Leto sighed. “If your answer is no, you’ll still be the only thing I’ve ever need you to be – my son.” Leto cupped the side of his son’s face, looking him in the eyes. “I found my own way to it. You might find yours…In their memory, give it a try."

Three dozen men of the Atreides legions, Leto among them, let loose among the free-flowing drinks. Two men danced atop a table in the dim light of the Barracks Mess.

“To Duncan’s last night on Caladan!” Leto shouted. The men cheer and toast.

Gurney sat alone on a bench, broody, glowering into his beer and plucking an open string on his baliset.

“Gurney Halleck. You look grouchy. To Arrakis!” Duncan says, clunking his mug with Gurney’s in a one-sided toast.

“You think we’ve won something?”

“So it is. The other Great Houses trust and admire us. And the Emperor is a jealous man."

Duncan stares at Gurney.

“Did you tell the Duke?”

“He knows. He—he’s right here.”

Duncan looks up to Leto, who speaks in a lowered tone.

“The Emperor is no stranger to treachery. Nor the Harkonnens. We have to be ready for anything. But this is our time. The Atreides never back down from a challenge. And when we prevail, it will mean a better life for the people of Arrakis. For all of us. Until then, we keep our spirits um, hmm?” Gurney nods reluctantly. He toasts Leto, who then turns to Duncan. “Duncan you’re a fine fighting man. But you look like a barbarian,” Leto says. Duncan grins. “Tonight, that beard comes off.”

Duncan’s grin fades. Gurney hands the Duke a trimmer. Duncan starts to rise, but Gurney and Lanville have him by the arms. The room erupts in laughter as Leto steps in.

Glossary

Drawad, Rhaenia, akhran az Khumal - Hail, Rhaenia, last of the blood of Khumal