#leto mid

[demons-mind]

Just wanted to draw a picture of Leif x Leto so here it is!!!

Hope you all like it!!! 💚💚💚

[foxilayde]

Sucking off Leto Atreides under the table during a war council meeting if you even care

[booksandwormm]

these two twins and their fantasies I swear…🤦‍♂️

[squidsploitation]

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream: Blood on my Tongue

I am just pushing this story out like it's nothing. That's the power of Feyd Rautha Harkonnen because I've literally never posted any of my writing until this. I'm so inspired ✨️ I hope you all are enjoying the story progress once again future chapters will contain sexual content so 18+ please.

Warnings:blood consumption

Word count:2.8k

Chapter 2

The next morning was slow. It was customary to sleep in after a welcoming feast given the guests usually over indulged in much wine. I was just thankful for a brief reprieve before our official courting began. My hand was wrapped neatly by Dr. Yueh last night. It stung whenever I tried to flex my hand slightly. I’m still not sure what compelled me to slice my palm just because he requested it. At the moment it seemed like the right thing to do but upon further reflection, I think it was a mistake. I only showed him that if he insisted I would bend to his will, because that is exactly what I did. I gave him what he asked for. I gave him my blood and he loved it. I can still recall the look in his predatory eyes when he saw my bright red blood coat the dagger. For a moment I thought he might lick it clean but thankfully he did not.

“My lady, it’s time for your promenade with the Na Baron.”

I wash my face at my vanity trying to mentally prepare for the day ahead. 

“He also requested a tour of the training yard. He needs to train daily, Lady Calista.”

“Of course thank you for informing me.”

With that she readied me for the mid day meal.

Yet again in the great hall Feyd Rautha and my father are seated identically to last night. They rise to greet me, but this time Feyd pulls out my chair without interruption from my father. I kiss my father on his cheek the same way I have every morning since I was a girl and he strokes my hair affectionately. Once I take my seat I greet The Na Baron with a simple 

“Good Morning.”

 My mother looks on with a sincere smile nodding her head in greeting. Her love had always been more reserved, more private than my fathers affections, but I knew she would do anything for me just as he would. 

Na Baron Harkonnen seems taken aback by the display of affection between father and daughter and thus does not relay a ‘Good morning’ in return. The food is quickly delivered and everyone begins eating without another word spoken. In order to break the ice Cali faces Feyd.

“I was informed you wanted to see the training yard. One of the maids mentioned training daily back on Giedi Prime. Is that true?”

He cuts his eyes to her youthful face and damp hair.

“Yes, it’s true. Why do you ask?”

“I also train daily. Perhaps we could-”

“-Cali, no I don’t think that's a good idea.” Said Leto.

“I would be honored, my lady.” said Feyd.

Jessica and Leto looked apprehensive. 

“Father? Is it alright?”

He nodded his approval, reluctant to offend the Na Baron.

An hour later I was dressed in my training garb which consisted of tight yet stretchy britches and a white peasant top tucked in neatly to the britches. I knocked on Feyd Rautha’s chamber in three sharp raps. He opened the door only a crack before seeing me and widening the gap.

“Are you ready Na Baron?”

He nodded once stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. They walked silently together with him just a few short paces behind her, out of her peripheral vision. 

“Our training yard has an awning so even when it rains we can enjoy the fresh air. The indoor area can get stuffy at times.” I was actually looking forward to sparring with him. I was eager to see if the rumors and gossip about him being a brutal animal were true. I felt a thrill deep down at the thought of it; seeing him for the beast he was rumored to be. 

“Here we are.” I pushed open the large double doors where some of the men were training under Duncans supervision. He nodded to me acknowledging mine and Na Baron Harkonnen's presence, but he did not approach. 

“Where would you like to start? Hand to hand perhaps?”

I offered hoping he would agree.

“Are you sure you’re capable?” He gestures to my wrapped hand that I had somehow forgotten about.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just sparring right?”

“Right.” 

We make our way to an available mat standing on opposite sides of the circle. His eyes are watching me more closely than usual which seems impossible. He gestures for me to make the first move. So I approach him slowly and deliberately. I strike out at his neck before he swiftly dodges the blow countering with a blow of his own which lands on my left side. I expected him to be a bit slower given his stature, but I was wrong. Noted.

 We trade blows back and forth, none landing. I was small and quick but he was using his size against me. He tried cornering me so I couldn't retreat before he grabbed hold of me. At the last second he was able to grab me and bring my back to his front. He wrapped his arms around my middle. For a moment we just breathe a bit worn out from the previous events. We had gone on for nearly ten minutes just grappling no one landing a single blow since his very first attack.

“You're fast my lady. I almost couldn’t catch you... almost.” He whispered right in my ear.

“You’re surprisingly fast for someone of your size, Na Baron. I’ll admit I was expecting slow but powerful blows.” I try to face him but his grip doesn’t allow for it.

“You adapted quickly. I was only able to land the first blow, I’m impressed, but you’re holding back.”

I try to turn to face him but he refuses to let me out of his grip.

“We’re just sparring are we not? Do you want me to unleash my full capabilities?” 

“I will if you will.” He whispers yet again in my ear.

With that I fling my head back catching him while he leaned into my ear to speak. The blow is enough for him to momentarily lose his grip and I use it to my advantage striking him in his gut with my elbow and moving out of his reach.

He smiles a black toothed smile at me, and I feel pride briefly before he charges at me full force and before I can even think he slams me on the foam mat knocking the breath from my body. Now at the advantage he straddles me at my waist totally trapping my legs. I try to use the menuvors Gurney taught me to use against bigger opponents but he pins my hands flush against the mat earning the attention of Duncan and the other soldiers present. 

I buck my hips trying with all my might to knock him off kilter, but it’s all for nothing. He’s too big, even with my years of training my strength will never be a true match to his. His eyes are even brighter than last night as I fight with everything inside of me to free myself. I manage to slip my bandaged hand out of his grasp from the sheer amount of sweat that has gathered there, and I slap him across the face with my full power. He grips my injured hand again this time squeezing it, pulling a whimper from me. I feel my cut reopen and he seems to notice this as well because he hasn’t looked away from my hand yet. I stop fighting and watch him intently as he removes the bandage exposing a small trickle of blood pooling on my palm. 

Hunger. That’s what I see in his eyes right now and it frightens me to my core. I heard tales from Gurney that some Harkonnen partake in cannibalism, but I never thought my betrothed would be one. Slowly and with all the fluidity of a snake he leans down and licks the pool of blood into his onyx mouth. His tongue startlingly pink compared to his black teeth makes me gasp. I freeze in fear and watch him while still pinned down beneath him as he licks my hand free of any blood that has gathered. Once he finishes his task he slowly rises off of me. I continue to lie on the floor shocked until Duncan Idaho kneels beside me.

“Cali, are you hurt?” He asked as he looked me over, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from Feyd Rautha.

“I’m fine Duncan, we were just sparring.” 

Who am I trying to convince? Every man here just saw him toss me around like a rag doll and lick my blood clean from my palm and now he’s staring at me like he wanted to come back over here and devour me bones and all. Duncan pulls me up to my feet, hands on my shoulders as he waits for me to shake off whatever spell I was under.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He persists.

I finally break my trance and look away from Feyd Rautha. I nod my head looking up at Duncan. He was like an older brother to me, somehow older but less mature. But here and now there was no playfulness in his eyes, only deep deep concern for me.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna go get this taken care of.”

I gesture to my throbbing hand. Duncan nods at me and releases me from his grasp.I find myself looking at Feyd again, but now he only has eyes for Duncan.

“You will take her place, Atreides' pet.” He spits at Idaho.

That was the last thing I heard as I left the training room face red from all the pitying looks from the men there. He made a fool of me in front of them all. This is what my father was worried about I suppose. I just proved to everyone I’m nothing but a weak little girl.

I sit totally tuning out Dr. Yueh as he asks me about my wound. I couldn’t focus on a word he said. I felt so exhausted and weak physically. My father wanted me to be able to hold my own when this day came, but Feyd proved I was nothing compared to him. How would I survive this? What will my father say?

Later in the day I was soaking in a warm bath spiraling down a rabbit hole of self deprecating thoughts. I was nothing compared to him. If I hadn't been born so small. If I hadn't been born a girl. My back was stiff from the force of being slammed. I realize now, no one had ever handled me so roughly. No one had ever used their full strength on me before. Not Gurney, not Duncan, no one. The thought alone makes tears pool in my eyes. My own perfect little world has been shattered by the truth. I’m not the future Duke. I’m the future Duchess. The very taste is bitter on my tongue.

“I can feel your bad mood from the chamber door.”

I gasp, clutching my heart.

“Mother, you scared me half to death. When did you get here?”

My mothers emerald orbs stare deep into my chestnut ones.

“Speak plainly Calista, your father has already been informed of what transpired today in the training yard.”

I cringe to myself, holding my eyes closed to stop the tears from falling. My mother hated when I cried. I hear her move about the bathing room grabbing something before I feel her gently brush my hair.

“Talk to me, my girl.”

“He bested me. We agreed to stop holding back and he beat me so quickly- I- I can’t face him again.”

“Ah, your pride is wounded. So much of your father is in you my darling.”

“It’s not just pride, mother. I was- I was afraid of him.”

The silence is loud. 

“You were afraid? Why?”

“He overpowered me so quickly, but I fought hard, so hard, and still he would not be moved by me.”

“You’re hiding something. I feel it.”

“He tasted my blood. He looked like a man starving, and I felt such an unfamiliar fear reach my heart.”

Jessica remains silent and just listens as she diligently brushes. 

“He wanted to devour me.”

“Shhh. Don’t cry. I think perhaps what he exhibited was sexual attraction for you.”

“No Gurney told me about cannibalism amongst House Harkonnen. What sort of normal person licks another human being's blood.”

“Calista, blood can be...erotic to some. I highly doubt Feyd Rautha is a cannibal. I think he desires you and you brought that forth while sparring today.”

I open my eyes considering her words.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“You are innocent, I wouldn’t expect such a thing to cross your mind. You can use that desire to your advantage, Cali.”

“Yes, I suppose I can.”

There's an awkward silence before lady Jessica speaks up.

“Why didn’t you use the voice?” There was a tension in her shoulders.

“Because fear is the mind killer. I couldn’t even think.” She admits in shame.

“Do not be ashamed. Let this be a lesson to you Calista, for if you are ever in harm's way your greatest enemy is yourself.”

“I understand.”

“Get out of the tub. It’s time to entertain your betrothed, he still expects a promenade before the evening meal.”

With that she pulls out her dress of choice while leaving Cali to finish her bath in peace.

There was a brief break in the rain clouds so I decided  to take Feyd Rautha to the gardens before we went to the evening meal together. Beyond the garden was the rocky seashore and Feyd seemed transfixed on the water that lay beyond that.

“Let's take a closer look.”

I boldly grab his hand tugging him along near the ragged rocks edge. There was a rocky beach about five feet below.

“What is Giedi Prime like? What can I expect?”

“Nothing like this. In fact it’s the opposite of this. No lush grass or tall standing trees, and certainly no body of water as enchanting as this.”

He sounds harsh in his delivery, but it doesn’t deter me.

“What of your family? Are they looking forward to our union?”

“They are.”

He doesn’t elaborate or even look my way. He simply stares out as the waves crash below us on the rocky shore. The mist from the seaspray damps my hair and I decide we should leave so we aren't soaked through while we eat.

Tonight's meal passed by without much incident unlike last nights and I’m thankful the day is over when I climb into my bed. Physically and mentally exhausted from the last two days.

That night my dreams were plagued by sand dunes, and the sound of a baby crying with all their strength. As I walked along the sand dune I found myself heavily with child and the crying was coming from within me, only I could hear my son cry out. Feyd appeared suddenly in my dream and my son's cries stopped abruptly as he kneeled before me speaking calmly to my large midsection. He even stroked me lovingly there on his knees. A kick from within my womb drags me out of my sleep and I shoot up out of my bed. It felt so strong. So real. This was no dream, this was a vision. The very first one since my childhood. A son? Why was this so familiar to me and yet so foreign. How did I know the life inside of me was male? I don't know how I know, but he was soothed by Feyd Rautha’s presence. The child in my womb recognized his fathers voice even now when he hasn’t yet been conceived.

In the weeks that followed Feyd Rautha pulled away from me. He would not engage in idle chit chat no matter how hard I tried to interact with him. His eyes were dead again even when looking at me, and some part of me didn’t like that. He was clearly just going through the motions of courting because it was requested but some part of me wanted us to know one another. Ever since the vision when I saw another side of him, I've longed to see more. He was tender in my vision, stroking my heavily pregnant womb gently and with great care. I wanted to see that side of him again, but who knew how long that would take. However, I resigned myself to the fact that I would indeed be marrying a stranger despite my best attempts. He had even gone so far as to avoid me during training. Only arriving while I still slept peacefully and leaving as soon as I appeared. 

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980

[jeannereames]

Hephaestion seems to have a big fanbase. How did it develop? I ask this because not much is known about Hephaestion historically. How did this interest in Hephaestion grow despite lack of enough information? Has Oliver Stone's "Alexander" contributed to it?

He does have a fanbase, which I discovered by accident. It well predates Stone’s Alexander, although the movie certainly enlarged it. I suspect much has to do with Mary Renault, at least at root. Even Oliver Stone’s film is an homage to her. I hope I’ve shed a little light on his career as well, but freely admit she started it, even if I didn’t come to my interest through her. I may be one of the few, at least among people my age.

I wrote a little about his fanbase in my article “The Cult of Hephaistion,” published several years after the film. If the bulk of the article is about Hephaistion’s military career, the opening discusses his public-facing reputation, and I got to use “fangirl” in an academic article. LOL.

As the chapter explains, I discovered his fanbase after I completed my dissertation in (late) 1998. While still at Penn State (e.g., before mid-2000), I began to receive email and even a few snailmail letters asking for a copy of it.

Let me point out something: nobody, much, reads a dissertation. It’s a niche market if there ever was one; in the normal run of things, only other scholars and grad students read dissertations. God alone knows how people found out I’d written mine on Hephaistion, but within a year, word had spread and I was getting requests for it. To say I was floored would be an understatement. And it wasn’t just one or two. For a little while, I was getting queries every few months.

(PLEASE do not go buy a copy! I’m working on a major revision, and large chunks of the dissertation are already in print as articles anyway [HERE on academic.edu]. The dissertation is no longer up-to-date and parts are simply wrong. I did the best I could at the time, but now have 25 more years of academic work under my belt and a whole lot of very good material has been published since that I’m consulting for the book.)

Anyway, what struck me was the truly international nature of the interest, even before the Stone flick. Many requests came from Anglophone countries, but not all. Yet—as I discuss in the book chapter mentioned above—they did share one common characteristic: over 80% came from women. 2/3rds of the rest were from gay or bisexual men. From my chapter (you can download it to read further):

What struck me most about Hephaestion’s fans is that they compose subsets of society who have traditionally occupied disempowered social positions: women, and gay or bisexual men. If I were to say, “Hephaestion has fans,” the instinctive reaction to that pronouncement is rather different than if I were to specify, “Hephaestion has female and gay fans.” The clarification transforms him from Alexander’s right-hand man and chiliarch into a romantic hero—a Brad Pitt of the ancient world. (Or a Jared Leto, as the case may be.) All of which says perhaps more about our unconscious assumptions and automatic ordering of value than about the fans themselves. Enthusiasm for Hephaestion seems to be suspect and uncomfortably suggestive of motivations emotional and romantic. Yet is any intense interest ever devoid of emotional content? Perhaps the biggest fans of all are those of us who have devoted our careers to the study of Alexander, his court, Macedon, and related topics. Certainly no one goes into academics purely for the financial compensation.

I DELETED THE POLL. Going to redo it with a better list of options.

[thewormformerlyknownasletojrjr]

Sometimes self care is rewatching Dune (2021) and going on and on about ‘the symbolism of this or that’ or how ‘something here is a nod to the sequels’ or ‘look how the casting characterizes the house atreides’ or ‘the music here is phenomenal, it foreshadows gurney’s fate later on’ or ‘I think the difference in the vocalizing in the soundtrack here is deliberate’ until whoever you’re watching it with is ready to commit murder to shut you up.

But it’s just so phenomenal that you can watch it and catch new things each time, the visual and auditory storytelling in the background gives you so much! All these little things that go unnoticed until you see and want to jump out of your seat at them, let’s talk about that.

Let’s talk about how Jessica is always hooded when her scenes are associated with her Bene Gesserit powers and upbringing, how you can literally watch her out her hood down or up mid scene as she transitions from mother and concubine to an obedient disciple, how it foreshadows her struggle in the books all the way through Children of Dune.

Let’s talk about how well done the foreshadowing of the jihad is, how even this early on we can see the start of what is integral to Paul’s conflict in Messiah, how that feeling of helplessness about a destiny he doesn’t want will keep him frozen and unable to stop what’s in motion, how Messiah is such an incredible book because it ties into the dystopian trope wherein revolutionaries become like those they once revolted against, but how it’s so much more fascinating than some of the ways we see it in modern dystopias, because it’s the main characters who are following the pattern, not just watching in horror as those they fought with change for the worse, but actually experiencing it, horrified at what they’ve done and what they will continue to do, frozen and so unable or unwilling to do what needs to be done to stop it, how the movie is still in the stage where they are noble and valiant, but it makes sure to show the dread of what it coming, how it does such a good job of showing the burden of foresight that is so integral to Dune, the way that even as they see the future and can attempt to change it, they know that no matter their decisions, horrible things will come, how it shows Paul as scared hating the power he was given and blaming his mother and her aspirations, how the atreides family never wanted to be great, they wanted to be good, how Paul is coming to see that great and good cannot always coexist, how you look at this boy and you can genuinely see how he will become the man saying ‘Believers, all of them’ how Dune is such a hard story to get right because you watch someone devolve and stand by why horrible things are done without seeing him as a terrible person from the start, without the boy and the man seeming irreconcilable from one another, how the movie actually is on the right track even though the end result is unpalatable to the majority of society, how they are showing the white savior trope in a way that is thus far complaint with how it is deconstructed later on, how they have the epic notes of the beginning without going in a direction that makes the ending impossible.

Let’s talk about how they cast the Atreides family as beautiful people, but not soft, not tamed to modern standards, aristocratic in their looks in such a way that you believe they have been nobility for centuries, maybe millennia, slightly untouchable, dangerous, like those in power during the Italian Renaissance, how Paul looks young but also ethereal and formal, the balance between boy and duke and messiah in his appearance, how Leto’s hair and beard make him not only regal but worn by politics, cold and formal yet fatherly all at once, how Jessica’s ghostly pale complexion nods to her Harkonnen ancestry in the books and how she is beautiful in a way that seems not entirely human, how the other members of the Atreides house are each unique and full of character, not designed to fit a palette or aesthetic, whereas the Harkonnens have an eerie similarity that shows how little they value free will, how the Harkonnens are not dramatized to emphasize their characterization but rather understated, devoid of emotion save for rare explosive moments, how they echoed this in their design, making them blank slates, taking away rather than adding, leaving them almost human, but not quite, enough to trigger that ancient animal instinct in a person that says ‘something is wrong here, something is dangerous’ rather than making them fit in with the conventions of a time period or trend as to how to look evil.

Let’s talk about the soundtrack, how the epic music playing when House Atreides lands on Arrakis is echoed as Gurney and his men charge at the Harkonnens who so greatly outnumber them, how this not only ties you emotionally to the battle, hearing this dying cry of the Atreides, more so than the music continuing to be dark and foreboding through it all, but also how it foreshadows the survival of Gurney and the small group of men with him, living to reunite with Paul later on.

Let’s talk about how throughout the soundtrack we have women vocalizing, the emphasis on the power of the Bene Gesserit and how in Leto’s death scene we diverge from this trend, how he was so powerless against all these grand plans but he still took a stand, still ended things on his own terms.

Let’s talk about how Jessica doesn’t answer when Leto asks her to protect Paul as a Bene Gesserit. Let’s talk about the bull and the matador, the symbolism there. Let’s talk about the emphasis on medieval and renaissance headdresses on the Bene Gesserit, the significance of choosing attire from a time when the Catholic Church was in the peak of its power. Let’s talk about the nods to Gurney’s music. Just, look at all this stuff in the movie that you barely even notice, the first time. All the planning that went into it, how to fit in all these little nods, how to stay true to who the characters are in the present while also beginning to show who they will become. Let’s talk about it.

Though maybe not to the people I was watching the movie with. I don’t actually have a death wish.

[satanfemme]

can I confess, genuinely, I think jared leto's fursuit was mid. mid as hell. and I'm not just saying that

[foxfire-official]

Just one question .

Who TF made the locks taste like liver this morning?

Here’s the best way to guess who was in charge of flavours:

If it tastes like shit: Elwin

If it tastes like ogre shit: Lady Candace

If it tastes like bleach: Lady Galvin

If it tastes like mid-life crisis: Leto

If it tastes normal: the other mentors.

[demons-mind]

Leto’s Remade Bio

Name: Leto

Nicknames: Niobe- Lady Leto and Ava- Giant Woman/Lady

Species: Daemos

Magic: Normal Magic

Wife of Leif

Likes: Killing, Hunting, doing her own thing, Leif, Hunting with Leif, Niobe, Ava, Chilling with Ava, men's clothes, messing with the of the guys, and Most of her scars

Dislikes: Dresses, the Royal Family, anyone telling her she can't have her own kind of fun, Woman talking to Leif, and the Scar over her mouth

Fun Facts

She is still an assassin

She loves to pull pranks on people who she considers to be her friend

Her “pranks” towards Pierce are normally manipulating tactics

Even though she doesn't like the Royal family she is actually pretty chill with Asch (can't be said vice versa though)

Both Leto and Leif have lists for each other of who they can and can’t to talk to (Asch, Rhys, Noi, Pierce, Sarah, Ava, Hibi, and Lorelai are on the list that they can talk to)

Orin, for some reason likes her and that pisses Leif off

She killed her own mother

She is best known for killing an entire Kingdom all on her own and ever Daemos fears her

She gets “paid” to kill anyone they ask for, but whatever she wants (You can’t get what she wants from you, she doesn’t kill your target)

Mostly in hiding so she rarely is able to see Leif, but still finds time to see him one way or another

Love to make games for her and Leif to play

She normally likes her scars that she gets in battles, but the one over her mouth is the one she is ashamed of to even have

Likes going to Earth to hide for a couple of months (Daemos Months/ Earth Days)

Normally Leto can be very energetic, but around Ava she can be very very very calm

Her eyes can go white only when she hides her horns to look more human

 she is an Night Howler

Her weapons are her pearl bracelets, the pearls can form into any weapon she wants

In my AU she was the one who killed Asch's and Rhal's father to save Leif’s life (in my “Silent Past” AU)

That should be it it for Leto’s New Bio, Hope you all like her!!!

[machinesonix]

Okay with Dune 2 being mostly about messianic philosophy and the next one probably even moreso, I wanna talk about what I see as the BIG MESSIANIC PICTURE behind the setting, or at least what I believe it to be. There's going to be spoilers in here, but they're not going to be anything you're going to see on screen in this trilogy.

I'm gonna start off by highlighting something that might not be totally obvious at first glance. There are two completely different prophecies Paul finds his terrible purpose in. The Kwizatz Haderach is the ‘ultimate human’ envisioned by the Bene Gesserit who will have an enhanced power of prescience because he can project the Other Memory through both the X and Y chromosome and free humanity from its animal nature. The Lisan al-Gaib is a myth planted in the Fremen culture by the Bene Gesserit in case the Sisterhood ever needed to control them. The big tldr is that Bene Gesserit training involves a lot of learning through observation, so their kids tend to learn things so fast it looks like they already knew them and they pass that off as a miracle. 

I think it’s pretty obvious we’re supposed to find this Kwizatz Haderach thing pretty sus. The disciples of this prophecy are themselves purveyors of false prophecy. Paul certainly doesn’t believe he’s the Kwizatz Haderach, and that’s because he knows he’s not the Lisan al-Gaib. But he does wind up ticking the boxes. He does in fact survive the Water of Life ritual despite his sex. He is indeed uniquely prescient because he can see both sides of the Other Memory. Thing is as we move forward into the books that are not getting movies, we’re asked to reinspect this because of all the other Kwizatz Haderachs.

Brian Herbert gets kind of a raw deal because he didn’t have his father’s writing chops, but we’re comparing him directly to a person many consider to be the greatest science fiction author of all time. What he did have is a deeper insight into his dad’s setting and philosophies than anyone else, so miss me with any mess about which books you don’t consider canon unless you’re ready to go all Council of Nicea with me. Anyway, a really prominently weird thing that loses a lot of people is that Paul’s kid is a worm. He’s not born that way, he basically does the Water of Life ritual in the middle of a bunch of pupating sand worm larvae and comes out of it as a big worm with a human head that can produce spice in his own body. Leto II claims that he’s the Kwizatz Haderach, and to be fair, he is way more of an ‘ultimate being’ than his dad. People worship him not as a prophet, but as a god. Paul brought revolution to the universe, Leto II brought peace. It’s the peace of a godlike tyrant who can read minds and punish dissidence before it happens, but as long as we’re comparing people to their dads it's not like he started a race war that killed 26 billion people in the name of ‘justice.’ 

You may have heard Duncan Idaho winds up being the real Kwizatz Haderach. If you remember that gimp suit beetle thing in the first movie, the Harkonnens and their Tlelaxu buddies take dead people and turn them into sort of clone-zombie servitors called gholas. I’m not making any promises, but there is a real possibility the third movie will have Jason Momoa in a gimp suit, because Duncan is the best ghola. The second Duncan Idaho, bearing the edgy mid-century sci-fi moniker Hayt, is a gift from the Tlelaxu to Paul after his rise to power as an ostensible ‘we’re sorry we helped the Harkonnens kill your entire family.’ If you’ve seen the 1984 Dune movie you’ll know that the Duke of House Atreides keeps a pug. What you might not know is that it’s been the same pug for 10,000 years by virtue of genetic xeroxing. Once Leto II takes over, Duncan becomes the new house pug. Duncans serve as mentats, swordmasters, philosophers, and more over millenia of incarnations. Eventually one of the Duncans gets slammed with all the memories of the previous Duncans and he’s got this totally bizarre version of the Other Memory where he can remember all of his ancestors' memories, but his ancestors are also himself. Thereafter he can run like the Flash and fistfight robots and people call him the Kwizatz Haderach. Like I said, Brian’s books are petty controversial among fans.

Also the reverse-Bene Gesserit wind up making a Bizarro Kwizatz Haderach at one point but he’s just prescient enough to see that there isn’t a future where he isn’t just a washed up fraud. 

Now let’s put it all together. I think the core philosophical study at the center of Dune is the question ‘What is a messiah?’ And like any great work of art it really is more about the question than the answer. Our three Kwizatz Haderachs (I’m not gonna count Thallo, he’s more like an allegory for Joel Olstein) propose some possibilities. Paul is the guy who ticks all the boxes. His messianic status is descriptive, not prescriptive. He isn’t actually the guy the Bene Gesserit thought it was going to be, so that notion of predestination is gone, but if the Kwizatz Haderach is ‘the man who can use the Other Memory,’ then he’s it. He and the people around him knew the prophecy and chose to lean in that direction, he got 

Leto II is the closest thing to a divine manifestation that fits in this universe. He is literally in the body of one of the unstoppable forces of nature the Fremen venerate as their protector. He calls himself ‘God-Emperor’ in a setting where every man, woman, child, face dancer, and thing in between is raised on the principle that there is a monotheistic creator deity and that deity wants humanity to flourish. Everyone who didn’t believe in God got killed by robots ten thousand years ago. By insisting on literal religious worship of his political station, Leto II is seriously making some waves. Imo this is sort of like an extreme example where the question is more like ‘Is this what it takes before you’ll call someone the messiah?’ Even then, the fact that this dude is definitely NOT God in the way this setting understands it casts aspersions on the idea of a visibly supernatural force being inherently divine.

Finally, Duncan is a total freak accident. He is the ‘perfect human’ because he has been iterated on and improved over and over again, but he has nothing at all to do with the Bene Gesserit breeding program. Thousands of years after the Fremen uprising, when everyone thinks the Kwizatz Haderach is ancient history, there’s this guy with super powers. Unlike Paul, there’s no prophecy to suggest he might be the Chosen One and no decision to lean into the mythos surrounding it. The idea of iteration is really important with Duncan. Pardon the unflattering comparison, but there’s something kind of Heglian in how perfection is an inevitability as long as someone keeps stirring the pot. 

I would argue that aspects of all of this are present in the first book. Leto II and Duncan are just deeper explorations of some of the questions posed by Paul. And if I’m to wrap this all up with a neat little bow, I think the point of it is that they’re all totally valid Kwizatz Haderachs. ‘Kwizatz Haderach’ are just words. For ten thousand years, there was a description of a thing and nothing existed that fit that description. There was a plan to create something that fit the bill, but we got a guy who could do the miracle even when we went off script. At that point it just seems like a semantic argument. Likewise, Leto II is pretty much God. He’s immortal, he sees all things past and future, his body produces and feeds him the chemical that puts him in that trippy oneness-with-everything. He sure as fuck isn’t what anyone was expecting God to look like, but it’s pretty much theologicially bankrupt to be like ‘Excuse me, something isn’t the universal superbeing unless it’s exactly what I already had in mind’ even if people do exactly that all the time. If the 400 meter single worm-boot fits, as they say. I’m not exactly how to make this sound as serious as I mean it, but Duncan as Kwizatz Haderach is basically like Brian Herbert shoving the pile of Korans off his desk and going ‘Fuck it, look.’ This guy’s got nothing to do with the Bene Gesserit. He has the genetic memory of his masculine ancestors, but you probably couldn’t get away with calling it the same thing Paul does in court. Half the reason he gets called the ‘perfect human’ is the sentiment expressed by ‘Oh dawg, Duncan, bro, he’s the realest, most human out of any of us.’ He is just called the Kwizatz Haderach because that is the language that exists in the culture that is closest to what he is. But you know what? Same with Paul, or Leto II, or even the Joel Olstein guy I mentioned. 

Prophecies don’t predict saviors, they make them. Chani has a line in the new movie that’s something like ‘Promise them a messiah and they will wait forever,’ and I think that’s Dune boiled down to its most essential notion.  

[booksandwormm]

um lol wtfreak is this ugly ass dune art i made so long ago nd never posted

[darlingian]

WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

Hello! In honour of @energievie 's birthday we are doing a birthday theme! thanks to her, @michellemisfit , @deedala , and @vintagelacerosette for the tags!

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When is yours? boxing day 📦

Where were you born? In the next province over! And it was funny because I actually delivered a baby in that hospital 30 years later completely unexpectedly.

How do you feel about your legal name? Are you using it online and/or IRL? I hate it. It's never felt like mine. It truly makes me uncomfortable when people use it. I mostly go by Chani which I do like more, but I definitely don't love it. I've considered changing my name even since I was small, but that also makes me feel weird.

How about your sign? Do you feel it "fits"? I'm a Capricorn but I've literally never read a horoscope that fit me. That's part of why I'd like my chart read someday. Maybe someone could explain why I feel that way!

What's your earliest memory related to your birthday? It was my 3rd birthday and I vividly remember opening The 1995 Fisher Price Little People farm set. Which I kept LONG after I'd technically outgrown the toy. I also remember there being smarties(the Canadian candy) as polka dots on a chocolate cake.

What's one of the best gifts you've ever received? When I was little I only had one cousin. Her and I were like siblings. Our grandma had bought us each a ty beanie buddy bear for Christmas and mine was a cranberry coloured bear with a green ribbon around his neck that I immediately named "Cranberry Bear" (good imagination lil me). Well that same day my little sister who was probably around 3 decided it was HER bear. And essentially the whole family tried to gaslight me into believing that it had always been my sisters. Because my sister was a very hard kid to deal with and she was prone to all day destructive tantrums I guess they figured this was easier. And when I wouldn't give up on the fact it was mine I was told "you have enough toys." Anyways, my best friend knew that story and happens to love researching vintage toys. (she has a great Polly pocket collection.) A couple years ago she gave me cranberry bear for my birthday. In pristine condition and as soft as the day someone bought him. And he's mine. I cried a lot. hahaha

How about one of the best you've given yourself? I'm supposed to say my children or something I think. lol

What's your favourite cake flavour? I actually unabashedly love funfetti cake. But also red velvet. I'll buy red velvet if it's available every time.

How about your favourite flowers? Forget-me-nots or Lily of the Valley.

Have your ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. I've thrown my kids a combined 14 birthday parties. Plus 3 or so parties for my ex-wife. I really loved my eldest's 7th birthday party which was "Witchy" themed. Her birthday is mid November so I bought so much great Halloween decor for it after Halloween had passed and everything was super duper discounted.

What's the ultimate birthday song? I like the Stevie wonder one?

And last but not least, pick a celebrity with whom you share your birthday. I share my birthday with Jared Leto and Chairman Mao. Soooo apparently it's an evil day to be born. lmao.

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tagging @heymrspatel @too-schoolforcool @sgtmickeyslaughter @gardenerian @celestialmickey

@jrooc @sam-loves-seb @iansw0rld @crossmydna @mybrainismelted

@mmmichyyy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @catgrassplantdad @thepupperino @gallawitchxx

@blue-disco-lights @creepkinginc

[soursatellite]

The Waters We Brave - Ch. 1

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x Original Female Character (Moira Atreides)

Summary: The year is 10,189. House Atreides stands strong as one of the great houses of the known universe. Marchioness Moira Atreides, sister to the great Duke Leto, begins to fear the plots hiding beneath the waves.

Tags: Age Gap (original character is 31 and Gurney is in his early 50's), YEARNING, slow burn, devious political plots, plot heavy, fluff, angst, did I mention we're yearning? Leto and Moira being the sibling duo to end all sibling duos, Jessica and Moira being the girlbosses to end all girlbosses

Warnings: Self harm in the form of picking at skin due to stress

WC: 5044

Author's Note: It's here! This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so excited to be posting this. I hope all you Gurney lovers out there find some enjoyment in this. This is an introductory and VERY plot/character establishment heavy chapter. So if you like this and want me to keep writing this series PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I want to hear all of your thoughts. I promise that if I write future chapters they will be more GurneyxOC heavy, I just loved writting the political intrigue. Much love, Sputnik <3

Excerpt from the Histories of House Atreides:

The Duchess in the Shadows

  We turn now to another member of the House Atreides; the younger sister of the Duke Leto, Lady Moira Atreides. 12 years his junior in age but equal in mind, Moira Atreides was the picture of political prowess alongside her brother. She played such an integral part in his rule that some referred to her as, ‘The Duchess in the Shadows’. 

  Despite not being the direct heir, Lady Moira was raised with all the training a person of high political esteem may need by her and Leto’s father as a powerful asset to his son’s rule. And live up to the expectation she did. 

The Marchioness’ heavy dress whipped in the Caladanian winds as the door of the ship opened into a ramp, the feeling of the breeze a cool salve across her cheek and mind. She turns to look at the Atreides Warmaster, Gurney Halleck, standing slightly behind her left, “Are you not delighted to be home, dear Warmaster?” 

  The man’s face remained set in stone, “Overjoyed, my Lady”

  A laugh escapes her lips, “careful, one day you may slip up and I may be able to tell how you feel without asking,” the woman faces forward once again. The vessel they were onboard let out a final groan as its ramp fully extended. Moira couldn’t help stealing a deep breath of the air of her home world, a crisp welcome that she never failed to love. The few strands of her dark hair that had escaped the intricate updo atop her head tickled the sides of her face. Nothing could quell the joy that filled her heart upon returning home even after her 31 years of life on the planet. 

  The smile it brought her fails to leave her lips as she sees her family there to greet her. Her brother the Duke Leto, her good friend Lady Jessica, and beloved nephew Paul. The boy ran forward as Moira reached Caladans ground and pulled his Aunt into a firm hug. She gives a joking groan and pats his back, “Gods, my boy. As much as I adore your welcomes you cannot continue your greetings like this. When you are a man grown you will knock me off my feet.”

  The boy ignores her tease and pulls back with a smile, “we are happy for your return. And yours as well, Warmaster,” he says looking from his aunt to his tutor. The boy had already passed Moira in height despite being in his mid teens. The two share their pale skin and wavy dark hair, but he gained the greenish-blue eyes of his mother while Leto and Moira shared eyes of a dark brown.

  The Marchioness pats the boy’s back before continuing to walk towards Lady Jessica and Leto, “We are glad to be back. It feels like ages since I was graced with the loveliness of our home,” she holds out her arm to her brother for him to shake, and the man can’t help but let out his own laugh and grab her arm, pulling her into a firm, quick hug, “A month you have been gone, sister. One month too long. The planet has missed you.”

  “Well not just the planet I hope,” she says, sharing a smile with Jessica. 

  The woman gives a pleased look to her friend and takes her hand from Leto’s, “We’ve had a dinner prepared for your arrival. I know you must be exhausted, but it’s nothing a good meal among family won’t fix,” the group of them begin walking into the castle.

  As they walk, Moira catches Gurney starting to split off from the group and halts, “you will be joining us won’t you, sir?”

  He stops in place and turns, meeting the expectant eyes of the Lady Moira, “I did not wish to intrude, my Lady.”

  “Nonsense, Gurney,” she walks forward to him and takes his hand in hers, “you know you are family as much as the rest of us.”

  The man looks down at his rough hand encased in the Lady’s smooth skin, struggling to find the words to reply before Leto pipes up, “Yes we insist, Gurney. You must join us.”

  He clears his throat lightly and nods, “If the Duke and his family wish it.”

  Moira smiles. Ever the professional Gurney was. If Moira had learned anything in her years traveling with him, it was that the man would not seek to make his wishes known unless they could be phrased in a way that would please her or her lord brother.

  “Good. Now go get cleaned up and we will see you in our dining hall,” she gives his hand one last squeeze and Gurney gives her nothing more than a short nod before walking off. Moira turns back to her family, “I shall see you all in an hour.”

Gurney, above all else, was reliable. He was loyal and set in his ways, a feature he prided himself on. When the young Duke Leto Atreides had liberated the man from the Harkonnens in an Atreides raid on Giedi Prime, he vowed his loyalty to the Duke and his family. Thus his new routine was set in place. He proudly served his Duke and his family upon rising to the rank of Warmaster, and happily fell into routine. He tutored the Duke’s young son Paul and trained his soldiers. When the long day was done, he would retire to his room, read his books, and play the Baliset. With all the tumultuous tides his early life had brought, Gurney would have happily spent his eternity in this life, but life hardly let us have what we wanted. 

For the better part of the last two years, Gurney Halleck had found himself accompanying the Marchioness Moira Atreides on cross world and interplanetary diplomatic voyages. Now Lady Moira and Gurney sat at the private dinner table of Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, and the young pup Paul. The brother and sister talked emphatically of the recent excursion and the three others in the room simply sat and ate their dinners silently, they would hardly have been able to get a word in if they’d wanted to. Everyone knew that attempting to pull the siblings' attention from each other after they’d been apart and had so much to discuss was like trying to get a child to look away from a sky full of colorful fireworks.

The Warmaster had hardly noticed that his mind had been so far elsewhere from the table until he heard a lull of silence and looked up to see Lady Moira and the rest of the table looking at him expectantly after Moira had said something he’d failed to hear. Gurney internally chastised himself for not being vigilant in the conversation before asking, “I’m sorry, what was that, my Lady..?”

  Gurney’s flustered state (of course flustering Gurney was as simple as catching him without an immediate phrase or retaliation) was met with a simple smile that twitched at the edges of the Lady’s lips, amusement twinkling in her eyes, “I said the people on Exodeos were quite enthralled with your baliset playing, weren’t they?”

  The Warmaster recovered quickly and stopped himself from mindlessly stabbing at his food to regain some semblance of professionalism despite the fact that he was among family, “Oh, yes they were, my Lady,” there was a pause as Gurney clears his throat and tries to brush off the affectionately teasing comment, “Every time I set it down they begged for one more tune,” Gurney said, trying to regale the talk with a tone of amusement, as much as his monotone voice would allow. 

  Moira laughed and looked back to the other members of her family, “you should all be jealous that I got to hear so much. We all know how difficult it is to get our dear Warmaster to play for us, but I think he simply couldn’t resist the applause.” Everyone chuckles and Gurney can’t help looking back to his food. He wasn’t offended by the Lady’s prodding; not in the slightest. He wasn’t sure the woman could ever offend him. That was what made things so difficult. 

  The dinner was a pleasant one. Too often did Gurney deny himself the enjoyment of a nice meal, usually opting to scarf it down as fast as possible to return to his work. Of course he would never dream of disrespecting his royal family like that and remained seated for the entirety of the meal, listening silently to the conversations of the group.

  When the dinner was done, they all stood. The Duke was the first to excuse himself, and Gurney quickly bowed to excuse himself, but could not begin to move away before Lady Moira stopped him. She turned and said a quick word to Jessica about meeting her in her library for a cup of tea before returning to the Warmaster, “I do hope you take leave for the rest of the evening. We’ve had a long journey, and I do not wish to see you over exert yourself,”

  “It is not overexertion if I find the work pleasing, my Lady,” he replies simply, knowing she will disapprove.

  She just gives him a look and asserts herself, “I mean it. Take the rest of the night off. Your men will last a few more hours without you,” her words are firm, and full of seriousness. But he knows she speaks from a place of concern, and her tone does not lack lightness. 

  He nods and replies, “If you insist, my Lady,” as if he would ever disobey an order from her. 

  Moira’s smile graced her lips once more and she nodded. Letting him go, she turns and walks out of the dining hall. He hardly notices his eyes following her until he turns and meets the eyes of the young Paul Atreides, a slightly mischievous smirk upon his face. Gurney looks at him unamused, “Just because your aunt has dismissed me from duty doesn’t mean she has done the same for you. Back to your studies, young pup,” he clasps the back of the boy’s shoulder before going to his chambers, the boy letting out an immature groan behind him.

Lady Moira’s private library was vast; filled with literature, histories, and journals from planets across the known universe, including her own records of things. A sturdy wooden desk sat proudly in the center, the full shelves lining the walls surrounding it. Two plush chairs sat by a window, turned in towards a small coffee table where the tea cup of the Lady sat steaming.

  The Lady Jessica sat, cradling the warm cup in her slender hands as she watched her friend pace back and forth in front of the looming shelves. One a skilled Bene Gesserit, and the other a fearsome politician, Jessica and Moira shared many a whispered conversation in the cold room under the light of the glowglobe. They had been each other’s closest confidants since Jessica’s arrival as the Duke’s concubine, both in work and friendship. Between the two of them, it was nearly impossible for something to escape the castle unheard or unseen.

  This particular night, Lady Jessica did most of the listening as the Marchioness relayed some of the more minute details of her recent escapade that she had yet to share with the Duke. Things like public opinions on their house and discrete conversations she’d heard. The Lady doesn’t miss as her friend’s shoulder’s grow more and more tense and she picks more harshly at the skin around her nails, as if there’s something building in her; bursting at the seems to be let out but being held back by the twines of self preservation. Jessica takes the liberty of snipping that thread.

  “Something troubles you,” the words are direct, not a question, “You’ve heard something. Or seen it?” Jessica sips the hot liquid and keeps her eyes set on Moira’s avoidant ones.

  Lady Moira lets out a deep sigh, her body deflating but maintaining it’s rigidity, “the waters we brave are rocky, Jessica,” the woman stands behind the chair she would have used if not for the anxiety keeping her on her feet and grips the backrest of it with firm knuckles, “Opinions of the name ‘Atreides’ grow stronger, in many ways.”

  “But you always have stated that the positive dealings far outweigh the negative-”

  “They do and that’s what worries me,” The Marchioness’ dark brows crease as she stares down at her knuckles, her eyes glossed over with thought, “we move further and further from a safe and steady neutral. More people across the known universe have a growing love and support for Leto, but this only means that those who wish to see him fall will rise to meet that demand. Rumors have begun to circulate surrounding me.. Some are saying that I wish to usurp my brother’s throne.”

  Jessica sips her tea with no more urgency before replying to the Lady of the House. She was aware of these rumors that sometimes circled between the common folk who had nothing better to talk about sometimes than unrest within the royal house, but she knew better than anyone that these words weren’t true. 

  “Those that doubt your intentions are looking for theatrics where there are none. The Duke knows you have his best interests at heart. As do I. Leto would never believe these histrionic claims made about the person who has so vehemently supported his reign from the very beginning.”

  Jessica’s eyes are drawn down to her Lady’s hands that burn a raw red around the nail beds, her eyes still not meeting Jessica’s own. “It’s not the rumors themselves that worry me, it’s where I’m finding them. Planets far away that have no prior attachment to the House Atreides and should not have any care for our politics. The eyes I have sent around the galaxy have seen them on planets the Duke has not touched.”

  The cause of Moira’s concern becomes clear and Jessica lowers her teacup to her lap, “They’re being planted. Who would benefit from such whispers? An attempt to turn the people against the Duke or the Duke against you.. Is it a Harkonnen plot?”

  “No no, it’s not the Harkonnens,” Moira moves from her previous spot and begins walking along the sides of the room near the door, listening for unwanted spectators, “They would benefit yes but they’re not the cause. It’s much too subtle of a plan and is being found far outside of their range of jurisdiction…” The Lady’s voice falters into a pause of hesitation and Jessica grips her cup.

  “You suspect someone..?

  Moira’s lips purse in hesitation as she reaches and locks the door before moving to Jessica. The Bene Gesserit mirrors the urgency, setting down her cup and standing to meet the woman’s gaze. Moira holds the Lady’s arm with a steady gentleness and whispers in her ear in a tone just above silence “the Emperor Shaddam.”

  The Lady Jessica snaps her head and meets the dark eyes of the Marchioness for the first time this evening. There is no jest in them; no sense of uncertainty, only fear encased in an iron shell of will. The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, “you’re sure?”

  “As sure as I can be,” Moira takes one of Jessica’s hands and clasps it in her own, “by spreading these rumors he allows a shadow of doubt to befall Leto. To us they seem completely unfounded but to others it could mean a lessening of their faith in him. Their validity and plausibility hardly matter. It’s simply the doubt in Leto’s ability he wishes to sow. But I believe this could all be part of a much bigger plot. Something much more sinister ..”

  Jessica nods as the two women share a knowing look, “we must not fear…”

  A smirk twitches in the corners of Moira’s lips “and we shall not,” she gives Jessica’s hands a light squeeze, “don’t worry yourself with this immediately, and do not mention what I have told you to anyone, not even Leto. I will tell him when the moment arises.. We’ve yet to know how deep these roots have grown and how many seeds have been planted. Being too hasty with things will only deepen the wound. I want you to focus your attention on Paul and his training. You may have set him up to help us in ways we do not yet know. Now, the hour is late. I will retire for the night and I advise you to do the same.”

  The Bene Gesserit nods and soothes away the worry from her sea-glass eyes in a way only a Bene Gesserit could, “anything I come across will be brought to you,” and with that the woman slipped away into the darkness. Perhaps the women’s affinity for the shadows aided in their friendship. Moira knew that it certainly aided in their design.

  As the door shut behind Jessica the Lady Moira allows her shoulder, brittle from the weight of everything on her mind, to crumble. Much of her dignity had lain in her ability to bear the burdens of her profession. She was not so caught up in her upbringing that she allowed herself to ignore the vast pleasures and ease of living she experienced on a daily basis, but the mental price was a hefty one. And she had no one to blame but herself for her involvement in it. 

  Moira collapses into one of the plush chairs, her hands coming up to rub her face in an attempt to push the thoughts from her mind. It was like the stress had made her whole body on edge. Everything felt elevated; from the throbbing weight of her braided hair being amassed on top of her head to the stinging of the torn skin of her fingers. She could hear the chastising of her brother in her head, ‘why do you torment yourself so? I know you do enough of it mentally for the both of us’.

  It’s not until long after the Lady says she was going to head back to her chambers that she finally does so, saying a prayer to the gods that she would find rest easily despite knowing that was a hopeless wish.

Gurney always struggled to find sleep the first night after returning home. He put all his effort into adjusting to the schedules of whatever planet they may go to in order to maintain top performance, mentally and physically. He knew he was in extremely good shape for his age, even better than most men much younger than himself, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant to the extra effort it took to keep it that way. 

  When the second hour with no sleep had passed, he let out a heavy sigh before standing, pulling on a simple outfit and shoes to go take a walk through the castle in an attempt to clear his head and wear himself out

  He was always on high alert when on a voyage with the Marchioness. That level of awareness could be hard to let go of upon returning. Her safety was Gurney’s number one priority the second their vessel left Caladan to the moment they returned. The Lady Moira had gone on diplomatic missions for years before Gurney was officially assigned to accompany her. She’s always been protected, sent with an entourage of guards. It had always been enough for her, especially in her early days as a young politician. People would pay her little mind and she was able to slink between conversations all she liked without much notice.

  Of course it didn’t remain that way. As Leto became more popular, more attention also found its way to his envoy. When Leto heard there had been plots of an attempt on his sister’s life that nearly came to fruition, he spared no time upping her guards. Gurney distinctly remembers the moment, nearly two years ago, when the Duke had called him to his office and commanded that the Warmaster accompany Lady Moira on all future diplomatic missions. The man phrased it as if part of the reason was that it was important his master of war was just as just as tuned in to these foreign relations, but Gurney knew the most vital thing was keeping the Marchioness safe. One thing Gurney was certain of is that if one of the Atreides siblings was taken from the other, only tragedy would befall the one that remained.

  And thus the Warmaster found himself in the company of the Marchioness of Caladan, Moira Atreides. Despite the fact that Gurney Halleck had served as Warmaster to the Atreides house for more moons than he could count at this point, it was only when Leto had officially assigned Gurney to accompany Lady Moira that he actually spent time with the Duke’s illustrious sister. For most of his service, he cared only for war and the protection of the Duke. He didn’t concern himself with politics much in the beginning. His only impression of the Lady was restricted to flashes of her dark hair and intricate gowns in the halls, or when he’d go to meet his Duke and find her there rambling things of great importance that would immediately stop the moment he entered the room. He knew the Duke thought of her highly, more so than almost anyone. That was enough for him to respect her. 

Gurney would be lying if he said he didn’t find her a tad unnerving at first. Sometimes she would come into the training room to watch his training of the soldiers, her face devoid of any discernible emotion about what she saw, simply watching and then leaving without a word. She had an air of inquisition; like nothing said to her was safe from being fully examined and scrutinized. It had led to Gurney attempting to keep all of his interactions with her very brief, like she would somehow know things of him that he himself didn’t know and would sniff out something particularly displeasing that would have him removed from the Duke’s service. He’d seen the very thing happen to advisors who one day had been in very close conversation with the Duke, and the next were expelled due to the exposing of a more devious plot. He wished very deeply to never be on that side of her sharp bladed silver tongue. 

  Luckily, and a tad surprisingly, for him, the Marchioness’ disposition around trusted friends was much different from the air she held herself with professionally. He’d been surprised when, about six months into her service, she’d called him to accompany her. He’d adorned his entire ensemble, ready for whatever the lady might request, only to find out she wished to stroll in the gardens of the planet the royal family they were staying with on that particular journey. Gurney wasn’t sure how, or when, he had gained the good favor of his lady, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

  Part of him felt some shame when he realized he’d expected her to be much colder. He’d only been used to seeing her in stuffy meeting rooms with a back as straight as a needle or in her offices writing furiously within her journals. This first day of leisure when he accompanied her allowed him to realize for the first time after an embarrassing amount of years, that Lady Moira Atreides was a woman who had found herself in her position merely by the chance of the universe. And that that position often left her in solitude far from the comforts of home. Despite the fact that that day in the garden’s he had done nothing but stand by her side and offer his gruff responses to her comments, she had decided that he was to be not just her colleague and guard, but her friend.

  Looking back, he sometimes wished it wasn’t so; wished that he had been meaner despite how difficult it was to be mean to her. Then he would not find himself in her close proximity as often as he did. Then he would not know the feeling of her hand on his as she tries to get his attention. He wouldn’t know the feeling of her soft hair that sunlight soaked into as he moved it out of the way to adjust her necklace upon her request. Gurney found himself wishing he did not know of her softness so that he would not need to deal with its absence. He felt shrouded in shame as he knew his affections had surpassed those appropriate for a Warmaster and his Lady. Even breathing the same air as her felt like a vice.

  Gurney couldn’t find the will to be surprised as the universe taunted him now and laughed in his face. Not even five minutes into his walk and he spots the Lady Moira. She stands alone in one of the vast corridors of Castle Caladan, only lined with windows that look out upon the oceans and cliffs of the planet. Her hair, usually woven up into various braids, now fell loose, like an inky,waving waterfall all the way down her back and to her hips. The Marchioness was shrouded in a thick, intricate robe. She didn’t seem to see the Warmaster, her dark brows furrowed in pensive thought. She always seemed to look that way when she thought nobody was looking; like worry had been etched into her face and the weight of her unsaid thoughts weighed upon her shoulders. 

  He tries to give a slight cough before speaking so as not to startle her too much, “are you unable to sleep, my Lady?”

  Gurney hears the small, sharp intake of her breath as she turns to look at him, visibly relaxing a touch when she sees him, “Oh, Gurney. I apologize, I didn’t see you,” she turns her eyes back to the window, “yes I’ve had trouble finding sleep. Too much on my mind from the journey I suppose..” her words trailed off, like her mind was elsewhere. 

  He nodded in understanding and took only a few steps toward her, “me as well, my Lady. It is always difficult to find our footing again,” she nods and tries to give him a slight smile in reply, but the action is a forced one. The woman hadn’t been able to scrub the look of concern off her features, “If I may be so bold, my Lady, what is it that troubles you..?”

  “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Gurney.”

  “But if it would ease your mind then-”

  “It’s nothing,” she says firmly, cutting him off. Hardly a few seconds can pass before he sees the regret fill her eyes with the way she had spoken to him. She breathes in and continues, “I am fine, I promise. I thank you for your concern, Warmaster Halleck,” Despite her tone easing, he doesn’t miss the remaining tension in her shoulders, nor the fresh irritated skin of her fingers as she wrings her hands together. But Gurney knows better than to push the matter further and simply nods.

  A silence resonates between them before Gurney speaks again, “may I join you, my Lady?” Even with the torment it will no doubt bring him, he cannot deny himself the blessing of her presence.

  This brings a soft smile to Moira’s face, “you know you needn’t ever request a place by my side, Gurney. You always have it”

  Gurney cannot resist the twitch at the corner of his lips at her reply as he moves closer to her, “I always find it a good practice to ask. I’d never wish to offend you.”

  Moira laughs softly, “I doubt you could ever offend me, Gurney Halleck,” his palms betray him as they grow sweaty, “if anything, I’d be offended that you’d think me so self important that I’d refuse,” a glint of moonlight twinkles in her deep eyes as she looks to him. 

  Her teasing encouraged him to relax. He knew the one thing that the Lady despised was when people neglected to speak freely or joke with her because of her status, “You simply surprise me that you find my company enjoyable, my Lady.”

  “And why wouldn’t I?”

  Gurney couldn’t resist a chuckle at her question, “I am a difficult and stubborn old man. I can be crude in my tongue and set in my ways. Many consider me a rather woeful form of company.”

  She does not deny him, a simple laugh of acknowledgement leaving her which he assumes will be the end of her reply before she tacks on, “but not to me.”

  But not to me

  Gurney can not find a reply as his tongue lays dry in his mouth. He hopes that his decision to leave her words ringing in silence seems like an intentional one, and not an obvious result of her leaving him with no amiable response. 

  Luckily for him, Moira seems content standing in silence for the next few minutes before she pipes up, “I really should go to bed. Thank you for keeping me company, Sir Halleck. Would you be willing to accompany me back to my room?

  Yes. 

  “Should that please you, my Lady.”

  Moira wordlessly links her arm with his like she had many times across many planets as he guides her through the familiar halls of the castle. Gurney finds himself hoping that his rigidity is one of the features his Lady is pleased with about him.

  When they reach the large wooden doors of the Marchioness’ chambers she slips her arm out of his and moves to open her door, but stops to look at the Warmaster, “please do find rest tonight, Sir Halleck. Our world is not one that allows for much of it,” he sees that flash of worry flick in her eyes but he simply nods with a slight bow and bids her goodnight. 

  Gurney cannot rid himself of the feeling of the weight of her arm resting on his own the entire way back to his chambers.

[greenhappyseed]

All Might may be old, but he’s not ancient. He’s mid-50s, so he’s close in age to Hollywood men like Jared Leto (51), Ke Huy Quan (51), Hugh Jackman (54), Brendan Fraser (54), Will Smith (54), Lenny Kravitz (56), Keanu Reeves (58), and Robert Downey Jr (58).

[ivystoryweaver]

🪴IvyStoryUpdates🪴 9/22

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