#fedaykin

[fuckyeahisawthat]

There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

#dune #dune part two #adaptation #paul atreides #fedaykin

[bbabyteeth]

“May thy knife chip and shatter..”

#my art #tonguedrool #digital art #digital illustration #fanart #dune #dune movie #dune part 2 #frank herbert #paul atreides #paul muad'dib #muaddib #usul #paul usul muad’dib #house of atreides #lisan al gaib #kwisatz haderach #desert mouse #dune messiah #fedaykin #fremen #artists on tumblr #procreate #crysknife #dune worm poison #water of life #digital fanart #click for better resolution #bene gesserit

[stvlti]

linger like a sandwalk - a playlist for Dune Part Two

I'm back 💃 after 2 years of not posting new playlists for my fandoms 💃 this new Dune movie is living in my head rent free 😮‍💨 of course I had to make fanmix for this one to try and consolidate my thoughts.

Tracks ⏏️

Bloodline -- Gabriels  //  No Church in the Wild -- Jay-Z & Kanye West  //  Mary Magdalene -- FKA Twigs  //  Pink Matter  -- Frank Ocean  //  Smother -- Daughter  //  Say You'll Go -- Janelle Monáe  //  A Time of Quiet Between Storms (Dune Part Two OST) -- Hans Zimmer  //  Your Blood -- Nothing But Thieves  //  The River -- Kero Kero Bonito  //  Bad Religion -- Frank Ocean  //  Telekinesis -- Travis Scott ft. SZA & Future  //  Transform -- Daniel Caesar ft. Charlotte Day Wilson

Meta ⏏️

An explanation of the song choices & related thoughts on the film *

(*) I still have not read the book *lies down* As soon as life slows down I swear I will. The 2 Denis Villeneuve films combined already make for a rich narrative and storyworld however, and this playlist is very much based on that.

▶️ Bloodline -- Gabriels

It's the bloodline This thing came before you Bloodline

I wanted to open this playlist on something that gets right at (one of) the core themes of Villeneuve's Dune, and to me that is the idea of bloodlines, legacies and self-fulfilling prophecies.

Birth rights can be stole Truth is you were always alone Tears in your hands Seems you lost before you began Your ancestors' blood fed the soil and the sand

I think a point that many filmgoers miss - and is also a point I missed on my first viewing of Part Two - is that the Lisan Al Gaib prophecy and Paul's claim to it is wholly manufactured. Upon rewatch, several lines in the 2 films jumped out to me: 'On Arrakis, a path has been laid' (Mother Mohiam in Part One), and first Paul (during his first meal in Sietch Tabr) and then Lady Jessica's declaration that they must persuade the non-believers that he is the Lisan Al Gaib so as to ensure their continued survival among the Fremen. Irulan's later commentary, 'these are our religious patterns', cemented this fact for me. We are reminded that The Bene Gesserit has sent missionaries to the Fremen over decades and centuries, creating the religious circumstances for Paul to consolidate power among the natives. He has as much a claim to the title of the Mahdi / Lisan Al Gaib as any other outerworlder from the Houses of the Imperium - that is to say, he isn't really the Chosen One. 'Birth rights can be stole', and this is a birth right he stole.

Yet, he does undoubtedly hail from his mother's Bene Gesserit lineage and, through consuming the Water of Life, inherit the ancestral memories of both his masculine and feminine forebearers from both the royal bloodlines and the Fremen lineage of Reverend Mothers. (We see this during the montage after he takes the WoL, falling through a super cut of the faces of the Fremen Reverend Mothers who came before him before eventually finding a vision of Alia on the sand dunes.) His 'ancestors' blood fed the soil and the sand' on which he now stands as the (false) prophet that will lead his Fremen tribe to ruin...

It's the bloodline Don't let it destroy you Bloodline

... and in ascending to the title of the Mahdi, he will undoubtedly lose everything that made him Paul the individual in the first place. Greater prophecies, plans and conspiracies will eclipse his humanity. This is the real bloodline that drives him to war and genocide. 'Don't let it destroy you' - but maybe it's already too late.

▶️ No Church in the Wild -- Jay-Z & Kanye West

I mean, come on, this song choice is just too obvious isn't it?

Human beings in a mob What's a mob to a king? What's a king to a God? What's a God to a non-believer who don't believe in anything? Will he make it out alive? Alright, alright No church in the wild

'Mob' = the Fremen and their Fedaykin guerilla troops. 'King' = Rabban, and later Feyd-Rautha, and the Harkonnen regime. 'God' = Paul as Mahdi and Muad'dib, the desert terrorist. 'Non-believer' = Chani and her brethren among the Northern skeptics.

But the sonical landscape of this song also played a huge part in my inclusion of the song on this list. I'm a lover of words before all else, but something about Dune made me want to curate a sonically coherent playlist that accompanies the story in lyrics as much as it does in sound. The grueling, forward momentum of this song's iconic beat lends itself to the raids the Fedaykin warriors launched against the Harkonnen-controlled spice fields.

▶️ Mary Magdalene -- FKA Twigs

In my head I call this the quintessential Bene Gesserit song. Listen, and read the lyrics:

A woman's work A woman's prerogative

The song makes it clear from the very first lines that it's about the woman's birthright and sovereignty. Most of the Bene Gesserit ladies we see in this film have roots in the royal bloodlines themselves. In that, they have a claim to a particular prerogative. Yet they also actively govern the domain of procreation, descendancy, succession, and survival of royal bloodlines. That is the nature of 'a woman's work' in this storyworld.

A woman's touch, a sacred geometry I know where you start, where you end How to please, how to curse Yes, I learnt you needed me Yes, I'm here to open you Yes, I know that your heart is blue (So cold)

FKA Twigs' darkly seductive vocals paired with this particular verse really evokes that entire Lady Fenring/Feyd-Rautha sequence.

I fear before the fire True as Mary Magdalene Creature of desire Come just a little bit closer to me Step just a little bit closer to me

The seduction continues here, but there's power inherent in the 'creature of desire' Mary Magdalene represents. Her story and her iconography bears a heavy resemblance to the Bene Gesserit sisters and their relationships with the men of the Imperium and its court.

I can lift you higher I do it like Mary Magdalene I want you to say it Come just a little bit closer 'til we collide

A woman's hands So dark and provocative A nurturing breath that could stroke Your divine confidence

I really fuck with the Mary Magdalene allegory in this song, and the chorus nails the mythos and authority she commands in modern reimaginings of her figure in relation to Jesus' mythos. Yet there's something softer in the latter half of the chorus - the devotion she shows to her partner is on equal footing, less of manipulation and more of the muse she can be for him to realise his full potential. With the arrival of the second verse we truly see how important she is to a man's dominion. 'A nurturing breath that could stroke [His] divine confidence': that is the power of Lady's Jessica's love for and devotion to Leto Atreides.

A woman's war Unoccupied history True nature won't search to destroy If it doesn't make sense

Of course, it would be remiss of me not to point out that certain parts of the Bene Gesserit's characterisation functions as a manifestation and perpetuation of Frank Herbert's very of-its-time misogynistic, gender essentialist ideas of a woman's station and the (only) avenue through which she derives her power in the material world - her womb. (Miss me with that radical feminist bs.) But we also see, in the film, Princess Irulan's character: a female historian whom the film suggests would have been happier free from the trappings of the Bene Gesserit programme and her Imperial lineage. 'A woman's war; unoccupied history': Mary Magdalene is a prime example of how for most of history, women are often anonymous (as that Virginia Woolf saying goes), their histories are often erased and deemed as unimportant; Irulan's inner thoughts and history are also cast aside and given no voice in the Dune narrative, but in an ironic twist, she dedicates her life to documenting the history of others.

▶️  Pink Matter -- Frank Ocean

What do you think my brain is made for? Is it just a container for the mind? This great, grey matter Sensei replied, "What is your woman? Is she just a container for the child?" That soft, pink matter

This song provides more of a male - or at least, androgynous - perspective on the question of the Bene Gesserit breeding programme ('Is she just a container for the child?' / 'My God, she's giving me pleasure'). But it gets right at the core of the question of whether the women in this universe, and the avenue through which they gain power, is truly confined to being 'just a container for the child'. I also really liked the direct parallels Frank Ocean's lyrics draw between the womb (pink matter) and the mind (grey matter), as the other main source of power Jessica drives from is through her mind and the prescience becoming the Reverend Mother has afforded her.

▶️ Smother -- Daughter

In my head I call this Lady Jessica's song.

I want all that is not mine I want him, but we're not right In the darkness, I will meet my creators And they will all agree that I'm a suffocator

I think it's more intimate than either of the 2 songs that come before this one, and centres Jessica squarely in her role as a mother before her place as a Bene Gesserit sister. She knows she will meet her creators - the generations of mothers and Bene Gesserit sisters who came before her - and she knows they will disapprove of the path she has manipulated to suit her ends, first for Duke Leto (in bearing him a son) and then for her son's survival (in spreading propaganda of him as the Lisan Al Gaib among the Fremen tribes). Now I know that the films sort of reduce her to a one-dimensional villain in Part Two, but I've heard that she is a lot less gungho about their little homegrown personality cult of Paul as the Lisan Al Gaib / Mahdi in the book. In fact, his accelerated transformation into a religious figurehead and his willingness to exploit the Fremen for that, at the cost of his own humanity, seems to be an unintended outcome that she regrets. She has unwittingly become a 'suffocator', in that regard - a mother killing her own child's humanity in his metaphorical cradle as soon as she exposed him to tales of the prophecy.

Oh love I'm sorry if I smothered you I sometimes wish I'd stayed inside My mother

▶️  Say You'll Go -- Janelle Monáe

Say you'll go to Nirvana Will you leave Samsara? Or in the words of Dhammapada, "Who will lead? Who will follow?" Our love will sail in this ark The world could end outside our window Let's find forever And write our name in fire on each others' hearts

Something about Janelle's crooning vocals against the symphonic strings and melodies just makes this a timeless love song. I love including it in for my ships 🥺 and I think it rather fits PaulChani, the star-crossed lovers that they are. 'Let's find forever' is my 'I will love you as long as I breathe'.

But of course, the question of whether Paul will go south looms over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. 'Will you leave Samsara? ... Who will lead? Who will follow?'

▶️  A Time of Quiet Between Storms (Dune Part Two OST)

Among the Dune OST, this song holds a higher and special place in my heart because of the way it celebrates their first on-screen kiss, but is also used as a reprise of sorts at the end of the film as Chani walks out on Paul. It's a bittersweet track. And it's lived in my mind rent free much the same way that last shot of Chani, with her quivering lips and angry eyes, has.

This brings me to the name of the playlist: the PaulChani tragedy, and just, the film as a whole, has definitely lingered in my mind. It has dragged against my thoughts gently, but persistently like the rhythm of a sandwalk.

I also chose to place it in the middle of playlist to sever it into 2 parts, much the same way the film is severed into 2 parts: before Paul undergoes the Water of Life ritual, when he is still an idealistic boy who actively rejects the title of the Mahdi for fear of the wartorn future he's foreseen, and afterwards, when he claims the mantle of the Mahdi.

▶️  Your Blood -- Nothing But Thieves

You know it's your blood that I bleed Tell me that there's some way that I'll get through the night I carry your moral disease I don't wanna be something I'm not to stay alive

You guys don't know how long I've wanted to put this song on a fanmix!! I've called this Joey Wilson/Jericho's song from the moment I heard it 😂 but I think the same themes can be found in Paul's story too, specifically his first scene right after recovering from the Water of Life ritual. 'We're Harkonnens.' And his realisation that that's how they'll survive: by becoming Harkonnens. It's the Baron's blood that he bleeds, and conflicted as he is about that, eventually he'll come to realise that he has to 'be something I'm not to stay alive'.

▶️  The River -- Kero Kero Bonito

Holy mother Receive our hearts in your arms And let our souls pass The day the rain returns again

These 4 lines are repeated throughout the song, almost like a prayer. It reminds me of the way Stilgar holds onto those same 4 words, 'As it was written', throughout the film as an affirmation of his religious convictions - the belief that the true Mahdi will bring paradise one day and with it, the rain.

When Earth is submerging And heaven is open The river will carry all of us to Where we belong ... Then a torrent crashes down Releasing the jungle swelling in the ground And as was foretold our time is out

▶️  Bad Religion -- Frank Ocean

If it brings me to my knees It's a bad religion This unrequited love To me, it's nothing but a one-man cult And cyanide in my styrofoam cup I can never make him love me Never make him love me

This song places us in Chani's pov. To her, Paul's meteoric rise of notoriety among the Fremen is 'nohting but a one-man cult'. She loved him as he was - an outsider who stayed humble and learnt her ways, and earned a place among her Fedaykin brethren. But as a power-tripping outerworlder claiming to be the Mahdi - she doesn't recognise him, and she 'can never make him love [her]' again, not as the man he has become.

▶️  Telekinesis -- Travis Scott ft. SZA & Future

I could've took the pain and I could've went out sad Streets stepped in and raised me, but I ain't have my daddy

So I'm gonna be honest: this is actually the track that started this entire project for me 🙈 But you see it, right? Travis Scott as Paul's voice, and SZA as Chani's...

I can see the future, it's lookin' like we level through the sky I can't wait to live in glory in eternal lastin' life

The fact that 'I can see the future' is the refrain of this song. In its original context I'm almost certain that Travis meant it less literally, and more in the realm of being able to guess the trajectory of his career as he continues to top the charts as a hip hop superstar. But it lends well to the context of Paul's religious myth-making as well. 'Eternal lasting life' and all that.

How can I sleep when you're out catchin' bodies? I still wanna be with you, trust me, I know that's insane ... We both ain't shit and it's workin' for me Workin' for me, yeah I can see the future, I can see the future

The thing that breaks my heart about the ending of the film is that you can see Chani still loves Paul, but not who he has become. I also like that the song flips the refrain around and has SZA sing it too. Except when she says, 'I can see the future', she says it self-deprecatingly. It's a future of more heartbreak and betrayal (by way of mutual infidelity) and ruin.

▶️  Transform -- Daniel Caesar ft. Charlotte Day Wilson

If a leopard never changes its spots How can I change what I've got? Transform, transform, transform, transform We don't punish the tiger for catching its prey So how am I the one to blame? If it's in my nature Transform, transform, transform, transform

One thing rewatching these films has made me realise is that Paul's 'sudden flip' to becoming a coloniser exploiting the Fremen's religion for his own gains in Imperial politics after drinking the Water of Life is actually less of a plot twist and more of an inevitability that has been advertised since Part One. Towards the end of the first film, he says to Liet Kynes that he intends to marry one of the Emperor's daughters and make a play for the throne. In Part Two, during his first meal at Sietch Tabr, he says to his mother that he must convince the non-believers that he is the Lisan Al Gaib. He may not have intended to bear the mantle of the Mahdi, perhaps he was foolishly, idealistically looking for a different path towards revenge and the throne, but he has never been above playing the game and utilising court politics to secure his 'victory', so to speak. He was born of royal blood and forged in those politics. It's in his nature.

It's never over until life ends Lay down beside me, do it again

These 2 lines reminds me again of that promise Paul and Chani exchanged: 'I will love you as long as I breathe'. (And if I remember correctly, Chani said something to the effect of 'I will be here for you as long as you stay who you are' as well.) I didn't want to end this playlist on a downer ending, hence this song choice.

If you've made it this far into my meta-commentary, thank you! Hope you've enjoyed this playlist ♡

#Spotify #dune part two #paulchani #Paul Atreides #chani kynes #fremen #lady jessica #yes these are the key characters my playlist represents...will type up meta another time #oh Spotify we're really in it now #remember the good days of 8tracks.com? they really let us post playlists as long as it had 8 songs on it....... #Eugenia's mixes #Eugenia makes stuff #margot fenring #lady fenring #fedaykin #stilgar #now adding other character tags with my new additions to the playlist #Eugenia writes meta

[panphilosopher]

#dune #dune part 2 #chani kynes #meme #dune meme #fedaykin #anti-book readers

[curatorofthisdigitalmorass]

Anato Finnstark Oath to Muad'Dib

#anato finnstark #Oath to Muad'Dib #art #dune #Illustration #fedaykin #science fiction #character art

[theythemitalian]

marching off to meet my Padishah Emperor Muad'dib's enemies on the field of battle with my fellow fedaykin death commandos

(the enemies are one transphobe tumblr user. we will annihilate 61 billion souls in our jihad)

#paul atreides #muaddib #jihad #fedaykin #dune

[randomishnickname]

Someone needs to make a SAM song Dune edit that'd be so cool.

#'The emperor's getting worried... and soon he'll worry more!' #'who did i join? I JOINED THE FEDAYKIN' #'The FE - the FE - the FE-DAY-KIN' #“I salute my fallen comrades as I watch their thopters fall” #with the family atomics of course #dune #dune part 2 #SAM song

[perlelune]

Oblivion | Paul Atreides

There used to be beginnings and ends, nights and days, dream and reality, before the haze took over, swallowing every thought, every memory, every whisper of free will.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen Reader, Kynes!Reader, Mind Control, Memory Manipulation, Padishah Emperor Paul, Loss of Identity, Brainwashing, Mentions of war and religious fanaticism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Muad’Dib leads the way. 

It is what the prophecy dictates. That he is the voice from the Outer World. The one who will lead your people to paradise. The one who will turn Dune’s arid desert lands into bountiful, endless green fields. 

But as your eyes rest on him, you do not see the chosen one. You do not see the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You see your friend Paul, broken, lost, his heart shattered into a million pieces due to your cousin’s absence. 

He sits at the head of his bed, shadows fluttering across his delicate features from the glowglobes’ dull orange light. Wide black rings surround his sunken blue eyes, the result of his daily consumption of spice melange. Lank, greasy brown curls hang around his handsome face. A pang twists your chest. He hasn’t slept in days, has barely gotten a full night of replenishing sleep since she left on a maker’s back.

You cannot blame your cousin. Paul’s ascendency to the Golden Lion throne came at a cost. A hefty one. Promises were broken. Trust was destroyed. Only time will repair the damage that was done. Though you carry faith the two of them will find their way back to each other. 

You stir the spice-coffee in the pot, straining the shimmering dark powder before pouring some in a cup. A spicy cinnamon smell coats the cool night air. 

You rise and bring the cup to him.

“For you, Usul.”

A soft smile blooms on his lips as he takes a slow, weary sip.

“You make it so well,” he praises.

You glow at the compliment, returning his smile. Your grandmother used to show you and Chani how to blend coffee beans with spice and herbs. The knowledge never left you. Now, every time you feel troubled or upset, you make a fresh kettleful. A single sip of the familiar brew is enough to alleviate your frazzled nerves. Especially here, so far away from Sietch Tabr, between the strange stone walls of the Arrakeen Keep, you have craved little reminders of home more than ever before.

Fremen belong in the desert, not in peculiar tents made of marble and stone.

Paul’s brows crumple as he studies you. 

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he says.

“I can get another Fremen-”

His fingers latch around your wrist, desperation sizzling under his touch. 

“I prefer it to be you.” He sighs. A bone deep fatigue radiates from the sound. You halt in your tracks. You suppose you could stay a while longer. “Please, stay, your presence soothes me.”

You nod. “I’ll stay, Muad’Dib.”

Relief falls over his features. 

The doors suddenly open, the guards stepping aside to let Stilgar in. He bows to Paul.

“Lisan Al-Ghaib…”

Your friend’s mouth flattens into a thin line. 

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

Stilgar acquiesces. He will never stop addressing Paul with reverence and admiration. None of his followers believes in him more. At times, it scares you a little. While you share the same faith, the fervor with which every Fedaykin is willing to lay their swords in his name can be frightening. Sometimes you wonder if Chani was right. How much will it take to liberate your world? How much blood will require spilling? You’re not completely naive. No war was ever won without a few casualties. Still, part of you hopes the war will end soon and peaceful times will come.

“No sign of her?” Paul asks. 

A contrite expression tugs the older man’s face.

“Apologies, my liege. We scouted the Southern regions this time. We couldn’t find her. She knows the desert well. It is home to us Fremen. She will not be found…”

“...Unless she wants to be found,” you finish, grabbing the empty cup from Paul’s hands and placing it back on the table.

The faint embers of hope in Paul’s cobalt gaze flicker out. Your heart sinks, for both you and him. Though you do not wish to burden him, you miss your cousin too. Her practicality and common sense. Her strength. Without her, a piece of you is missing. A crucial one. Your mother died in childbirth and your father in battle, so both of you grew up together, close enough in age to share secrets and play together for most of your childhood. 

It was Chani who taught you how to summon a worm and ride upon its back for the first time. She is the sister tragic circumstances blessed you with.

Stilgar apologizes profusely once more before taking his leave.

As soon as he’s gone, Paul’s shoulders slump.

“She hates me.” 

You crouch beside him.

“She doesn’t hate you. She never could. She is your quiet in the storm, and you are hers. She will return when she is ready.”

A wry laugh escapes his lips. 

“I have Irulan, my beloved wife, who is likely plotting my demise as we speak. Qizarate missionaries pressing me to take action and purge the non-believers on Aldinor. I am surrounded by foes, everywhere I look.” That distant expression he gets whenever his visions haunt him touches his face. “Blades pointed at my neck at all times, waiting for a sign of weakness to strike.”

You grab his hand, reassuring him, “You also have friends, Usul, who believe in your cause.”

“Fanatics,” he corrects bitterly. 

Your chest swells with worry. You don’t like it when he questions himself as such. His cause is right. He freed Arrakis from the Harkonnen’s iron-fisted rule. He will bring peace to every world in the universe. It is written. It’s the only path forward.

“You are not alone.” His fingers squeeze around yours. Warmth rushes to your face, the realization that you’re awfully close to the Emperor striking you. You adjust the nezhoni scarf covering your hair and rise. “I shall let you rest, my Lord.”

“Stay, please.”

His tone is beseeching. Your gaze swings to the window. There, moon beams pierce through the colorful glass, scattering rainbow splashes of light across the floor. Vibrant stars pepper the dark sky, pearls lost in a sea of ink. It’s pitch black outside. You should be in your own room. Not his.

“Muad’Dib, it’s late…”

His grip on your hand tightens. When he speaks again, his tone is different. Disembodied. Powerful. Its tantalizing echo drips inside your head like honey. 

“Stay,” he mumbles. You plop down on the bed, your body moving on its own, driven by the strange, irresistible thrall of Paul’s voice.

“Usul…” 

He cups your cheeks. 

“Sleep beside me tonight.”

“I’m not her.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“She should be with me and she isn’t. But you are.” His inflection becomes soft and inviting as he drinks you in. As if he were lumbering through the desert, parched and desperate, and you were a well overflowing with fresh water. “You are beautiful. I never noticed before.” He pauses, tracing your bottom lip. “Perhaps I should have.”

You blink, dazed. When did Paul’s face get so close to yours? You can outline each of his long lashes, the speckles of green lingering in his blue eyes. 

“Paul-”

His mouth grazes yours, his thumb stroking your cheeks. It only lasts a few seconds. The warm plushness of his lips on yours yanks you back to reality. You gasp and flinch back. When you recoil, his silky tone fills your ears once more.

“Don’t fight it. You love me, remember?”

A confused whisper slips through your lips. Two parts of your mind wrestle with Paul’s words. 

“I do?”

His eyes dive into yours.

“Of course, you do.”

“Of course I do,” you repeat, his tone nudging aside the doubts lurking inside your mind. 

A bright smile unfurls on his lips, his lids sagging to half-mast.

“It’s like you said before. You are my quiet in the storm and I am yours.”

Right. You uttered those very same words. How could you forget?

You are Paul’s quiet in the storm. He is yours.

His mouth covers yours. It moves slowly against your own. He explores your mouth as he cradles your face. His long lashes fall over his cheekbones as he loses himself in your taste. He hums against your lips, gentle fingers touching your face. You don’t move, eyes half-open as you let it happen. It’s foreign, the sensation of Paul’s lips on yours. Foreign and strange yet you can’t help but numbly accept it. 

Once he frees your lips, he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Come into my arms, my love,” he says.

You don’t resist as he pulls you into his embrace, nudging you onto the bed. Soft strands of Paul’s brown mane brush against your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your spice-coated scent. 

His arms circle your waist. Your back melds against his chest, the warmth of your bodies mingling through the thin layers of your clothes. 

“You smell so good,” he mutters. Your scarf shifts when he rubs his face against it. “Don’t ever leave me.”

When you don’t reply, his tone gets firmer. “Promise it.”

The words roll off your tongue easily.

“I won’t ever leave you, Paul.”

Tension leaks out of his tightly coiled muscles. 

“Good,” he says, drifting off to sleep quickly with you nestled in his snug embrace. 

You fall asleep too, no thoughts in your head, Paul’s soft snores lulling you into peaceful slumber. 

You awake with a start, the stark unfamiliarity of the palatial chambers you find yourself in causing your pulse to soar. Your eyes dart about the room. Recognition hits you. These are the Emperor’s apartments.

Your eyes grow wide. You’re not supposed to be here. Panic sets in.

“W-What am I doing here?”

Paul’s quiet voice flows across your back.

“Calm down.”

“No. I shouldn’t be here…”

You start crawling off the bed but Paul’s fingers around your wrist impede your departure. 

He holds your face, vibrant blue eyes locking with yours. You find yourself incapable of looking away, ensnared by his unflinching focus.

“I said, Calm down.”

The alarms ringing inside your head fall quiet. You lean into Paul’s touch. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Every thought you attempt to grasp at evaporates in the heat of Muad’Dib’s stare. 

“There. Much better,” he coos, satisfaction hovering on his handsome face. His voice sinks into a sensual whisper. “Why don’t you kneel for me?”

You do as he instructs. Then all fades to black as quicksands of confusion engulf your thoughts. 

When you return to yourself, you aren’t on the bed anymore, but on your knees on the carpeted floor. 

Paul is looming over you, grunting, his throat bobbing. One of his hands is curled around your nape while the other is under your jaw. 

You note the saltiness coating your tongue, the drool on your chin, the soreness in the back of your throat. 

You choke on his length, air wavering inside your lungs. 

Paul’s cock is in your mouth. 

The sick, awful realization tumbles over you like a bag of stones. 

Muffled moans leave you as you lift pleading eyes towards him.

You place your hands on his thighs, shoving with all your strength. 

Paul doesn’t let you move. He cradles your face and thrusts inside your mouth until his balls are pressed into your chin. 

Clouds of lust obscure his gaze as it falls upon you. 

He caresses your face, dragging his cock out before pushing it inside your mouth again. Gurgled sounds leave your throat. Tears skip down your cheeks and you wonder when you’ve started crying. 

Fremen do not cry. Ever. Even for the dead. It is a rare, sacred act.

Paul wipes them off your face with his thumbs. 

“You love me. It is what lovers do,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your body relaxes. 

Right. Of course. You love him. It is what lovers do. 

You hollow your cheeks and suck him off. He unleashes a throaty sigh of delight as you pleasure him with your mouth. 

When his seed drips down your tongue, he coaxes you not to waste a single drop. You swallow all of it, showing no resistance when he nudges a stray drop between your wet lips. 

Several days in a row, you awake in the emperor’s chambers. At first, you experience great confusion. However, Paul’s soothing words always quell your rising panic. It becomes all you know. The Emperor’s mesmerizing voice. His large, soft bed. His ceaseless, ravenous touch. 

Sweaty, tangled limbs melting in lewd harmony.

You stop questioning it. Even the strange lapses of time when you are in one room and mysteriously wind up in another. It isn’t rare for you to wake up with the Emperor’s head bobbing between your thighs, greedily lapping at your folds, or with your hips grinding into his as he impales you on his cock. 

It is where you belong. And you believe him when he says that, mumbling loving promises into your ear in the dead of night.

“If we do not strike fast and hard, they will not accept your rule,” Stilgar says. 

“They worship a false god. We are doing them a favor,” another man sitting at the table interjects. 

A shaky exhale flows from your tongue. You look around, dismay filling you when you realize you’re in Paul’s war room amidst a council meeting. Your head throbs. How did you get here?

You rise from your chair. Bemused gazes land on you. 

Princess Irulan snickers from her seat.

“Husband, your concubine is acting strange,” she sneers.

Concubine? You step away from the table.

You blink several times as you stumble outside. You grip your temples, your forehead scrunching. That cannot be right. Is it? 

You are no one’s concubine. 

You are…

You are…

Adrenaline pumps through your blood as your head buzzes. 

The answer will not come, your mind keeping it under firm lock and key.

Frustration mounts within you. You blindly waddle around.

You end up in a room that bears vague familiarity. You lean against a basin full of water. Water…just lying around. That seems strange.

Your eyes land on a mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass has your heart rate spiking. Who is this?

You bolt to your feet, the water in the basin splashing around your feet. 

Your tremulous fingers rise to your face, horror filling you when the woman in the mirror mimicks your exact motions. 

Your gaze travels across the wide, open space. Quick breaths rush from your throat. The Emperor’s room. Why did you think it was your room? 

You stagger backwards. You gasp as you bump into a solid form.

You whirl, eyes widening.

“Paul.”

He gauges you, slight concern etched in his blue eyes. Relief fills you as you soak in his boyish, slender features, much more familiar than those of the stranger in the mirror. 

You know Paul. Muad’Dib. Paul is familiar, safe. You trust him. He will tell you who you are.

“Yes, my love?”

“Paul, who am I?”

A displeased frown settles on his brow. He approaches you and grabs your face. His expression hardens.

“You are mine. Nothing else matters.”

“But Paul-”

Your protests are stifled by the feverish press of his lips on yours. A fog surrounds your thoughts as his kiss grows more passionate, his hands sweeping over your curves. You place your hand on his chest, pushing feebly.  

“Forget it. Forget it all, beloved,” he mumbles against your lips. You sag against him. You drown in Paul’s blue eyes, time stretching beyond eternity. 

When you gain a semblance of awareness, your naked form is writhing above Paul’s. Your palms are spread over his lithe muscles, your hips moving as he slams his cock into your cunt repetitively. Paul bites his lip, his gaze glued to the sight of his length disappearing between your wet folds. 

When did you get on the bed? When did you shed your clothes?

Every inquiry melts in the heat swirling across your damp flesh. 

Your lashes flutter as you unleash a broken whimper, Paul’s hard length touching you in places that send electricity rippling through your spine.

You tighten around him and he purrs. 

“Remember nothing but my name,” he rasps, clutching your hips possessively. He impales you on his length, thrusting faster. You choke on your breath, his quickening pace driving you wild.

You brace yourself on his chest and lose yourself in the pleasure, your breath hitching each time he pounds into you.

The filthy sounds of your coupling fill the room, bouncing off the stone walls. Paul’s deep, animalistic moans. Your soft, desperate whimpers. The blunt, wet sounds your cunt makes as he buries himself inside you. The bed rattling and squeaking under your writhing forms.

“Paul, Paul…” you pant as you bounce on his cock. An intensity ignites his eyes as his name falls from your tongue like a prayer. You toss your head back, voice dying in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your toes flex. You tremble, your body jolting as your slick walls flutter around his length. A husky moan leaves him. He twitches inside you. His back lifts from the sheets, his body tensing as he hits his peak too. Slick warmth spills from his tip, glazing your walls. 

An errant sliver of panic lurks inside your brain. Your eyes bulge as you glance down at where your body and Paul’s are conjoined. Rapid breaths burst from your chest.

Seeming to sense your distress, he shoves your hips back down when you try to squirm away.

His authoritative voice booms across the room, unnatural, multiplied. Everywhere at once. 

“Do not move, beloved. Let me fill you up. Make you mine in every way.”

Your breaths settle down. Your worries disappear. You look into Paul’s loving gaze. A smile unfans on his lips as you ride him with abandon again.

“What are you doing?”

You pivot at the abrupt sound of Paul’s voice. You pause above the bag you’re packing. You peer at him, mulling over an appropriate answer to his question. You do not find one. You only know that you stirred awake that morning, feeling strange, sore…Lost. The urge to collect your meager belongings and leave the Arrakeen Keep seared inside you since then. A hollow, distant voice rings inside your head.

Return to Sietch Tabr.

“I have to go. Something…Something isn’t feeling right.”

The muscles of Paul’s jaw flare, his tone as ice as he states, “You want to leave me.”

Discarding your bag, you rush to him. You take his hands in yours.

“No. I made you a promise. I just need time to think…I can’t think anymore, Paul.”

It’s true. Every day feels like trudging through a Coriolis storm, your thoughts scattering as dust in the wind the minute they form.

Everything that was solid before is now sand slipping through your fingers.

Paul’s gaze corrals yours.

“You don’t need to,” he says, gripping your face. His tone dips to a soft lilt that penetrates your senses. “Who are you?”

You search his eyes. A breeze blows away every single doubt you had.

The answer to every inquiry you had is right there. In Paul’s fond stare.

The persistent little voice in your head, that pesky plea begging to be heard suddenly falls quiet. The truth echoes in your head, Paul’s powerful voice filling your mind.

You are right where you belong. 

“I’m yours,” you utter with certainty.

His face softens. “That is correct, my love,” he says, stroking your cheek.

“Now, why don’t you settle down, beloved?” You let him escort you to the bed, coaxing you to take a seat on the sheets. “Agitating yourself as such isn’t good for you.”

He sinks to the floor and drops a gentle kiss over your round belly.

“And it’s not good for the baby either.”

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #dune fanfiction #dune #dark!paul atreides #dark!paul atreides x reader #dune part two #paul atreides x you #paul atreides imagine #dune part 2

[redskull199987]

Concubine

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Part II

Word Count:1.6k

Warnings:!SPOILERS! for Dune II, canon typical violence

Summary:"This princess will carry his name and yet, she will be less than a Concubine. She will never spend a moment of tenderness with the man she is tied to. But we who are called concubines - in the eyes of history we will be wives…"

Part I / Masterlist

She was pretty. You had to give her that. Your gaze closely followed each and every move that the Princess made. You knew that her head must have been chaotic at the moment, going through every possible scenario, how this situation could end. And you also knew that her first and last goal of this day would be to save her father’s life and secure the continuous reign of her bloodline.

But from the way she looked at you, you knew that Princess Irulan was aware of the fact that if she did marry Paul, she’d never get to share a bed with him. Would never bear his heirs or even receive an ounce of warmth from him.

She knew that even though you'd officially be Paul’s concubine, his loyalty would lie with you. And only you.

Chani’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. It reminded you that before it ever came to that, Paul would have to beat the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.

You took a deep breath in, as you glanced over to the Harkonnen. You had heard stories of him back on Caladan. Stories of his thirst for blood and his enjoyment of Pain. His reputation preceded him, but his appearance clearly matched it. He looked almost eerily as he stepped forward, proposing to fight for the Emperor and defined his honor.

A small frown appeared on your face, when Paul accepted the proposal. Too fast for your liking. You heard Chani sigh next to you. You looked over to the Fremen. The Woman who had become like a sister to you, who had taught you the ways of her people. You remembered it as clear as day, when she had first told you, that you’d earned her trust.

It was the day you had joined the Fedaykin among their ranks, The day you became one of them.

You were high on adrenaline. You didn’t know how else you could’ve explained it. You didn’t know how else you would’ve pulled it off. Your eyes wandered over the many Corpses of the Harkonnen Warriors, that were supposed to protect their Harvester. Almost like in slow motion, you raised your hand, your fingertips wandering over the specks of blood that littered your face. You knew it wasn’t your own blood, but the thrill that the situation itself brought you, was indescribable. 

You needed a few moments to fully return to the present. The Spice in the Air was clouding your senses, making it feel like you witnessed everything merely from the eyes of a spectator and not as one of the Fremen who ever so fiercely attacked a Spice Harvester of the Harkonnen.

The Explosion pulled you out of your Trance.

You spun around, spotting Chani and Paul. They were fighting off a few Harkonnen warriors. But you quickly realized that Paul wouldn’t be able to defeat them all alone. You’ve never felt slower than in this moment, when you started running towards him. It felt like the Sand was pulling you down, seeking to swallow you whole.

But you didn’t let it. A scream left your lips, as you dashed forward, deeply burying your Crysknife in the back of a Harkonnen Warrior that was about to attack Chani from behind. You sank to the ground together with his Corpse, as Chani spun around, her eyes widening as she realized what had happened.

Only seconds passed, as you looked up to her, Anger and Determination all, that was on your mind. Chani gave you a small nod before Paul finally reached the two of you again.

“Re-load!”, Chani yelled at him and he quickly did as told, pulling out another round of Ammo, reloading Chanis Missile Launcher. 

You glanced past the Mainstay that the three of you were hiding behind. When you spotted the Ornithopter in the air, you gulped harshly.

“The shields only lower when he’s shooting!”, You shouted towards your companions. When you locked eyes with Paul, you immediately realized that the two of you had the same Plan.“We’ll distract him!”, Paul explained to Chani who gave him a court nod as she understood.

“Wait for our sign!”, You yelled, as you got ready to sprint over to the next Mainstay to distract the Sniper.

“Ready?”, Paul asked as he got into position next to you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”, You grinned, despite the Seriousness of the Situation.

You took in one last deep breath, knowing very well that it could be your last one, before you felt Paul tap your shoulder, signaling you to start running.

Almost immediately, your instincts kicked in and it felt like you were a spectator again, watching how your feet carried you through the hot sand. You saw and heard the shots that rang in the Air as you sprinted through the Desert.

“Shit!”, You heard Paul yell next to you and you quickly realized what he meant, when you saw the Mainstay in front of you start to move further away from you.

“Run!!”, You shouted, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

You knew that from that moment and the point where you reached your destination, only seconds passed but it felt like hours as you ran through the sand. Mere moments before you reached the safety of the Mainstay, you heard Paul yell at Chani to launch the Missile.

 You were knocked over by the Force of the Explosion as the Ornithopter burst apart into the air, signaling to the Fremen that were hidden on the cliffs nearby that they could launch their attack on the Harvester, destroying it entirely. 

“Hurry!”, Paul yelled, as he pulled you to your feet and back over to Chani who was already making her way towards the nearby Dune. You had to disappear in the Desert again, before more Harkonnen would come and attack you.

That night you sat with the other Fedaykin, drank and laughed with them as Paul and you joined their ranks as respectable Warriors of the Desert. You received your Fremen name and you realized that your Heart, your soul and your entire being was with them now. You would fight for them as long as you breathed, would even go to death for them.

And Chani seemed to realize it too.

The young woman had always acted cold towards you, but when you saved her life on that day, risking your own for hers, she realized just how much of a loyal friend and fighter lay in you. From that day on, You knew that you could always count on each other.

“He will survive…He will win.”, Chani whispered into your ear and squeezed your shoulder as you watched how Paul and Feyd-Rautha got ready for their Fight. As the Gaze of the Na-Baron crossed yours, you sucked in a deep breath. What you saw in those eyes scared you.

It was a thirst for Blood and Power that you had only seen in Paul as he drank the Water of life.

You quickly looked over to Paul, giving him a firm nod, signaling him that you were on his side. His eyes told you more than words ever could. It was a silent promise. A promise to come back to you, to survive this battle and to put his plan into action.

It was a Promise that he would become the Emperor.

“I must not fear”, You mumbled to yourself, as the fight began,”Fear is the Mindkiller.” 

Your eyes followed every little move of Paul as well as Feyd-Rautha. The two men were equal fighters, both born to be the One. But only one of them would win, only one of them would come out alive.

“Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.”, You whispered, as you watched Paul get knocked over the head, Blood trickling down his temple,”I will face my fear.”

“Is she your pet?”, Feyd-Rautha mocked as he gave Paul a moment to collect himself. The Na-Baron grinned wickedly and pointed his knife at you. You paid him no mind, as your eyes only rested on Paul, silently telling him not to let himself be provoked.

“I will permit it to pass over me and through me”, you mouthed as Paul got up and the Fight commenced anew. 

Your breath hitched as Feyd-Rautha swiftly disarmed Paul, ramming the Crsyknife into his ribs. A guttural groan left Paul's lips as the two fighters stood close to each other. Wheezing breaths were the only noise to be heard in the room.

“And when it has gone past I will turn to the inner eye and see it’s Path”, You whispered desperately, the Mantra being the only thing that kept you from panicking.

All your senses were focused on the two men in front of you as you witnessed how Paul silently pulled the Crysknife out of his Body, getting ready to attack. Feyd-Rautha barely had time to react as the holy knife of Shai-Hulud pierced his armor and therefore ended his life by the hand of the new Emperor. 

“Where the Fear has gone there will be nothing”, You mouthed as Paul got to his feet again. His steps seemed to carry the weight of the Universe as he walked over to the old Emperor, demanding him to kneel in front of his new Master.

Reluctantly the old man did as told, as he accepted his defeat. Princess Irulans gaze slowly wandered to you, as her father fell to his knees.

“Only I will remain.”

#Dune #Dune Movie #Dune Part 2 #Dune Part II #Dune Edit #Dune edits #Dune fanfiction #Dune fanfic #Dune x reader #Paul Atreides #Dune Paul Atreides #Paul Atreides x reader #Paul Atreides x fem!reader #Paul Atreides fanfic #Paul Atreides Oneshot #timothée chalamet #thimothee chalamet edit #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #Chani #Zendaya #Fremen #fedaykin #fem!reader #Female reader

[baxterbella24]

"As long as I breathe"

"I'm no Messiah, I'm a Fedaykin of Sietch Tabr"

Paul Usul Muad'Dib Atreides, Dune: Part 2 (2024) dir. Denis Villeneuve

#dune film #dune part two #paul atreides #chani kynes #love scene #paulchani #paul x chani #chani x paul #timothée chalamet #zendaya #denis villeneuve #gif making #gifset #otp: as long as i breathe #best movies of 2024

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #chani kynes #paul atreides #adaptation #dune spoilers

[alexiscreationbox]

one of the “turning point-scenes” is this scene, where Paul rides Shai-Hulud for the first time: it’s his test. you win and become a rider or you die.

see how the entire narrative changes? from a group of Fremen, Fedaykins, who came to watch and support Paul, they turn into followers one by one. we see this via gaze of Chani, and her emotions are shock, disbelief, confusion, even. to watch friends, warriors, kneeling before Paul.

in this scene also changes the view at Stilgar. before this his scenes with “as written” were comedic, sounding with humor and detachment. everyone realized it was his beliefs due to his origins from the South. now? his words are filled with devotion, absolute faith in Mahdi, in Lisan al Gaib.

now this is where everything went wrong.

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune part 2 #dune movie #dune part two #paul muad'dib #paul atreides

[romikuromi]

The more I delve into the universe created by Frank Herbert, the more shocked and surprise I become as things unveil like a knot in a rope. It looks simple, it looks like any child’s play but only if you understand which side to pull first to loosen it all together. I have honestly never been into something this deep like I am for Dune. Both the movies and the books reveal something so poignant that you can’t compare which one is better. The book Chani is nothing but a simple love interest that was created by Paul when he revealed he saw them being married and having kids. It was forced, book Chani had no character revelation instead of being a colonial fremen controlled by a freak created by a Bene Gesserit. But the movie Chani unveils its own narrative of how she chose Paul as a love interest even though he was the son of a Duke. Chani respected Paul as he was doing everything to be a part of the people where men and women are both equal. The equality that Paul chose to become a part of the Fremen made Chani fall for him out of respect and devotion. Everything makes sense but at the same time it doesn’t because as time will pass, upcoming parts of Dune will unveil a new story line and I’m honestly excited to see how they will now portray the characters of women whether it be of princess Irulan, Lady Jessica or Chani herself. The entire movie of Dune: Part 1 revolves around the narration of how Chani is a fedaykin surviving and serving for the people of Arrakis, were as Dune: Part 2 revolves around the importance of the desert spring, that how her tear drop with the water of life gives birth to the true messiah, Lisan Al-Gaib and the death of Paul Usul muad’dib Atreides, the outsider with whom she fell in love with.

#dune 2024 #ls dunes #dune part two #dune part one #dune 2021 #dune memes #dune part 2 #dune movie #dune #dune 2 #lisan al gaib #florence pugh #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #lil timmy tim #timmy chalamet #timmy #zendaya #chani #princess irulan #paul atredies x reader #bene gesserit #arrakis #dune messiah

[madamevirgo]

okay so i have an idea for a lady jessica x reader fic, where the reader is one of the fremen and supports and protects jessica, around the time when paul and jessica join the fremen. She is still pretty vulnerable and even a bit scared but only shows that side of herself with the reader.

obviously you dont have to write that :)

Mine to Give

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f!)reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none? Terrible writing, softness.

A/N: I took this and ran with it ijbol. I’m a little rusty, so I apologize, but I hope you’re happy with this. Thank you for the request!!

You looked up from the stillsuit that you’d been working on repairing for the last hour at the sound of rushed footsteps moving about. 

Although it was not uncommon to hear commotion about the Sietch, these sounds were different. The footsteps were rushed and had a certain urgency to them that compelled you to follow them. As you got closer to the communal space, you heard voices laced with equal parts anger and anguish. 

“What’s going on?” You asked a little boy who almost crashed into you as he was pushed back by the large crowd that had been formed. 

“Stilgar is back with the others, and they’ve brought two outsiders. One of them killed Jamis” he replied hastily, before worming his way into the crowd once more - like a little desert mouse. 

You frowned as you watched him go, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. Jamis was dead, killed by the strangers. Why would Stilgar - a man you knew to be wise and calculating - risk endangering the community by bringing the foreigners here? He wouldn’t. He had a motive and a reason, you would find out. 

—————

“I’ve been gone for weeks, and you don’t even make an effort to greet me upon our arrival.” You turned around to see Chani leaning against the entrance to your room. 

“I didn’t hear you enter the yali.” You said as you approached her with a smile and claimed her in a hug. 

“What had distracted you enough for your acute senses to have been so diminished.” She asks, and you follow her as she sits at the edge of your bed. 

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. “These outsiders that you and Stilgar have brought, what do you make of them?” 

She looks ahead, her eyes seeming to lose focus as she thinks of an answer. “They’re the last remaining survivors of the Atreides family, our latest oppressors - slaughtered in the night by the Harkonnens. The woman is a Bene Gesserit and Stilgar believes the boy to be the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib. You know how I feel about these prophecies that have been written to control us.” You put a hand on her clenched fist to placate her. 

“Calm yourself, my sister.” You start quietly. “I know you are suspicious by nature, but you must not let your anger cloud your vision. Trust that Stilgar knows what he is doing. Give them a chance.” 

“If I am too cynical, then you are too trusting. I fear that your heart will get you in trouble.” She says with a slight smile, making you bump her shoulder with yours. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust strangers. And this prophecy - the Lisan al Gaib is supposed to be Fremen.” She said as her eyes once again regained their previous harshness. 

“I’m an outsider,” You replied pensively. “Yet, Stilgar saved me from the desert and raised me like his daughter. Feeding, clothing and cuddling me. You have done much the same, claiming me as your sister and teaching me to fight like a Fedaykin amongst other things. So tell me Chani, by your logic - am I Fremen or an outsider.” You held her gaze awaiting her answer. She looked down with a frown, before answering.

“You are Fremen. You learned the way of our people.” she says with certitude.

You put a hand on her cheek “I am both. He too shall learn, much like I did. I know you and Stilgar will advise him - just like you did me.” You finished gently. 

“You truly live up to your name.” She said with a smile, before getting up and extending a hand to you. “Now come, the others are waiting for us and I haven’t had a proper meal in three weeks.

———

Dinner had been a very interesting affair. You got the chance to get a better look at the duo, more the boy than his mother - as her back had been turned to you. That only served to increase your curiosity and you found yourself oddly disappointed when Stilgar came to collect her. 

If you thought Chani was against them, this was nothing compared to the way Shishakli felt. The badmouthing, paired with the sight of the boy who was desperately trying to ignore the stares and the taunting comments had effectively cut your appetite and forced you to excuse yourself to go on a walk. 

You’d been wandering for a while, not paying attention to where you had ventured when you bumped into someone coming from the hallway to your left. It was only your quick Fedaykin reflexes that allowed you to grab her before she could fall. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said and as you settled on the face of the woman standing in front of you, you recognized her to be the woman outsider. A slight movement of her hand caused your attention to deflect to her growing belly. “Shai-Hulud strike me! Are you okay? I should have been more mindful of where I was going. Please sit for a moment.” You gently guided her to a resting corner that was often used for prayer. 

“It’s okay, no harm no foul.” Replied the woman as you both sat down. “I am afraid I got lost. I tried to find my way after meeting with Stilgar, but these hallways all look similar to me.” She said quietly. 

You were finally able to get a good look at her and two things stood out to you. She was insanely beautiful and the sadness that covered her features looked like it was swallowing her whole. 

“I’d be more than happy to help you find your way back to your son.” You said as you stood up and she followed suit gratefully.

“Thank you, Stilgar left pretty quickly and I didn’t get the chance to ask for directions.” She explained as you began to guide her towards her intended destination. 

“He means well, but he is a bit scatterbrained at times.” You responded with a smile. 

“I’m beginning to see that. I would’ve asked someone, but most people here look at me a certain way.” You looked at her from the corner of your eyes and saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“You have to understand, that they’ve never met anyone like you and are weary of outsiders.” You explained as neutral as possible, not letting your need to protect your people get in the way. 

“I do understand,” she responded, probably sensing that she had hit a nerve. She was a Bene Gesserit after all. “It’s only normal under the circumstances, but still, it stings a bit.” She finished quietly. “You are different.” You inclined your head, signalling you were listening, but keeping your eyes forward. “I sense no distrust in you. You have only treated me with kindness so far. The only other person who has done that has been Stilgar.” She finished 

“That’s one of the qualities that makes my father such a great leader. As for me, I believe that everyone should be given trust and respect until proven otherwise,” you said proudly.

“You’re Stilgar’s daughter?” She asked with veiled surprise. 

“Adoptive, yes. My name is Y/n, but my people call me Amela,” you explain. 

“Y/n.” She whispers as if testing the way your name rolled off her tongue (rather well). “I’m Jessica. Amela means ‘One who hopes’, does it not? That’s a beautiful name.” You got a weird feeling in your stomach at her compliment. 

The rest of the way was completed in silence as you both were lost in your thoughts. Her more than you, as you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to her. After a few turns, you arrived at the communal area where you had been eating. 

“Mother!” You looked to see the other outsider approaching you at a hurried pace. “Where have you been? I was worried sick.” He said as he finally reached the both of you.

“I got lost after meeting Stilgar. Y/n here was kind enough to guide me back.” She said gesturing to you, and the suspicious look he had been giving you wavered. 

“Thank you for that. I’m Paul.” He said, extending his hand. You accepted the foreign greeting before letting go.

As you stepped away, you noticed your father in the distance and it suddenly occurred to you that you had missed him. 

“I should go greet Stilgar.” You say as you step away. Before you could leave completely you spared Jessica one last glance. “Welcome to the Sietch”. 

————

The next time you saw her, she was the Reverend Mother. You hadn’t been one of those who’d waited outside the cave where she met with the previous Reverend Mother, the thought of her potentially not surviving the ordeal made a cold sweat travel down your back. 

You were sitting in a corner in the communal area, quietly working on a defective fremkit, when you felt a figure looming over you. 

“Glad to see you survived drinking worm piss.” You said in a teasing tone. 

“Barely.” She said as she took the greeting as an invitation to claim the seat next to you. “Are you some kind of engineer?” She asked as she watched you work on fixing the fremkit. 

“I’m a Fedaykin by trade. Fixing things is just a pastime.” You explained. 

“How come you’re not outside with the others?” 

“They’re more than capable of dealing with the spice harvesters. Besides, from what I hear, your son seems to be more than enough extra help.” You closed the fremkit and handed it to her. “A gift” You explained. 

“I doubt I’ll need it, but thank you,” she says thankfully.

Her response reminded you of a conversation that you had with your father. “I intended to go find you after I finished here actually. You said as you fully focused your attention on her. “I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, by Stilgar.” you watched her for any discomfort as you uttered the words. 

“That is a bit useless. I’m sure you’ve heard of the weirding way. Much more effective than any fighting taught across the universe.” she said with disdain. 

“I’ll try not to take offence to that. Fedaykin’s fighting skills should not be discarded,” you said slightly colder than you intended. “I don’t see how me protecting you is any different from the treatment you had as a Duke’s bound concubine. But if it’s my presence that makes you feel unsettled, I can promise to not let myself be seen.” she went to argue, but the look on your face must have dissuaded her. 

“Fine, but I still think this is a waste of your time.” she relented and you let a satisfied smile appear on your face.

—-------------

For weeks, you followed the Reverend Mother around. Watching as she continued her Bene Gesserit propaganda amongst your people. You should have been angry at her brainwashing your loved ones, but you couldn’t help but focus on her more appealing qualities. 

Her beauty for one. The way she walked, sometimes seductively, sometimes like a fearless woman. You also grew protective of her, admonishing anyone who dared to utter negative words about her. And when the day had been long and the weight of her responsibilities and precognition seemed to crush her, you felt the urge to take her in your arms and tell her that you would take care of it all. But you couldn’t; you could only watch and make sure she was safe physically. 

You didn’t talk much, just like you had promised; and she did a good job at acting like you didn’t exist unless necessary. A hard task since you had been given a room in her yali. It had been a month since you’d been appointed as her guard when your relationship took a more personal turn. 

It had been a particularly long day. News from the Fedaykins had come of another successful mission, but many had been lost. Too many. Every time we received news that Paul was still alive, she cradled her belly and let out a breath. She had spent most of the day mumbling to herself, or rather her daughter. Something she seemed to do more when she was anxious. You wish she’d talk to you instead.

You were in deep sleep when a scream had you immediately jumping to your feet and running to her room, your Crysknife drawn, ready to defend your lady. You arrived and quickly surveyed the room for any imminent danger, when you saw none - you approached the bed where the Reverend Mother was trashing about. 

“Reverend Mother!” still she didn’t wake up as you avoided getting hit in the face by her wild arms. “My lady! Jessica!” finally, her eyes snapped open and she looked around in panic, before meeting your worried eyes. 

Once she did, she burst into tears. “It’s too much.” you didn’t think twice before gathering her in your arms. You understood what she meant by that. You’ve seen the toll her new position had taken on her in the past month. 

Your heart broke for her and you felt more useless than ever. You cursed the Bene Gesserit for making her this way, you cursed the Harkonnens for having disrupted her life, you cursed Paul - for whom she was doing all this, you cursed Stilgar for having entrusted her into this position, but above all - you cursed yourself for not being able to do something about it. As she cried, so did you. You who had been taught not to give your water away - you let your tears fall freely for Jessica, as you let yourself echo her pain and sorrow. 

“I’m sorry. Shh, I’m so sorry. I’m here.” you repeated these words like a litany as you held her. 

Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles, and to hiccups before she fell asleep. You don’t know how long you stayed watching over her like a vigil. Sometimes she would whimper in her sleep and you’d pat her back softly until she was calm again. Soon, sleep also claimed you, and you fell asleep where you sat on the floor with your hand in hers, and your back against the nightstand. 

When you woke in the morning, it was in a very soft bed. The pillows smelled of something fresh. You’d heard about a place in the universe that was full of greenery and water. They called it a forest. You think this is what that must have smelled like. This is the type of comfort that it must have brought. You didn’t want to move, but when you remembered the event of the night, you couldn’t get up fast enough as you ran around to find the older woman. 

Your heart was beating in your chest, chastising yourself for having been sleeping so deeply. 

“You’re awake,” you turned around to see her coming out of the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up, I thought-” You shook your head to get rid of the bad thoughts. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up after last night. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good for my bodyguard to be falling asleep on her feet.” she teased slightly, you kept your face neutral, still trying to get your heart to calm down. 

“I’m sorry”

“Thank you” 

You both spoke at the same time and you looked at her in confusion. 

“Thank you for what?”

“Why are you sorry?”

This time you allowed myself a smile to accompany hers. 

“You first, my lady.” You said gracefully 

“I am saying thank you for the comfort you provided last night,” she hesitated, before adding “For this past month, really.” she finished almost bashfully. A look you hadn’t seen on her face before. 

“I haven’t done anything worth acknowledging. Not last night, and not these past weeks. All I’ve done is follow you around.” You shrug. 

She crossed the room in three long strides before taking your hands in hers softly. 

“I know it’s been hard at times to watch me work. You don’t agree with how I’ve been spreading my doctrines - but I’ve never caught any judgment, hatred or disgust from you. You’ve been more of a companion for me.” she looked to the side and frowned, before capturing your eyes once again. “The path I’m on can be lonely, I’ve been thrown into a new culture and position with no time to adapt, collect my bearings or mourn. I’m scared, terrified actually; but it’s been a little easier with you watching my back.” she finished.

“I’ll always have your back,” You mumbled earnestly

“I know.” she taps her head slightly with a finger, to show that she can see it, and you laugh. Of course, she can. “This is only the beginning of something beautiful for you and I.” the way she looks at you causes heat to rush to your cheeks and to look away from her mesmerizing eyes. 

“What does that mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh. 

“All in due time. But please, don’t give your water away for me again,” she says softly, her hand on your cheek as if catching the tears that had fallen last night. 

A shiver runs down your back. “It’s mine to give.” 

———

Part 2

A/N: Like, share and subscribe to my chanel teehee 🥰

#madamevirgowrites #dune part two #dune #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x reader

[lieutenantfloyd]

Narrow Honor | Gurney Halleck x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Following the fall of the Imperium to the Fremen, House Atriedes hosts a dinner party for the remaining Great Houses. where Paul Atriedes informed them of his future plans. After the Reverend Mothers airs a number of personal and political grievances, You—a skilled Bene Gesserit and leader of the Fedaykin fighters—come to the defense of your marriage to Warmaster Gurney Halleck.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, arranged marriage, religion, heavy references of religion and use of scripture (Orange Catholic! Reader), canon divergence, the Bene Gesserit are terrible but Gurney plays the Baliset and makes everything ok.

Authors Note: This is very self indulgent, and can be read as x Reader or with an OC in mind.

Read on AO3

Paul Maud’dib sits solemnly at the head of the large stone table. The space around him is populated by the most important figures of the known universe.

Reverend Mother Jessica and the former Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV are seated on either side of the Lisan al Gaib. Princess irulan stands next to him, and flush with the wall behind them stands Chani. It took some convincing to get her here, but you’re most grateful that she’s in attendance.

To the left of Jessica is Stilgar, followed by the Fenring Reverend Mother, Lady Fenring herself, and two representatives from the Great Houses. Past Shaddam on Paul’s right sits House Corrino’s Reverend Mother, followed by four more representatives from the other Great Houses. You sit in the final chair, heading the table along with Paul, while Gurney stands doggedly behind your left shoulder.

Tensions are at an all time high, yet Paul looks as head strong as ever. Given your storied friendship and allegiance, his apparent security brings you ease.

A servant makes rounds and fills everyone's glasses with their choice of wine and water. The guests find relief from the dry, agitated air of Arrakis while each Fremen and member of House Atriedes in attendance leaves their own glasses untouched. While you know the liquids to be pure, they might as well be poisoned. you cringe at the blatant gluttony and wastefulness of it all. From across the room, you spot Paul sporting a similar look of disgust. Though his is almost immediately silenced in favor of a neutral but commanding stare. Your eyes then fall to Jessica, who signals to you both in hand speak.

A necessary sacrifice. 

You sit calm and quiet as the future of the now-fallen Imperium is laid out in exact terms. You've both attended and led plenty of meetings similar to this in the past months, but know that you are attending this one as more of a formality than anything. Despite the topic of conversation being impossibly heavy, you now feel a strange weightlessness after waging war against your Harkonnen oppressors for so long. 

Time advances unmonitored. Though your thoughts have been elsewhere, your senses have remained on alert. Sapped power, burst egos, and foiled plans are far too high in number around the table for you to ever feel comfortable.

Suddenly the sound of your name leaving Paul’s mouth finds your ears, and you perk up. 

“-their sacrifices have been crucial to our cause, and as such I will personally see that they both retain their respective titles of Fedaykin leader and House Atriedes Warmaster.” 

Angered murmurs break out amongst the table, but no one offers a formal rejection.

As Paul gives his closing statement, Gurney’s palm meets your shoulder and you place your own atop the dorsal side of his hand. Your subtle display of affection goes entirely unnoticed, but a silent affirmation passes between you. Equals in battle and in marriage.

The formal aspect of the dinner now over, the guests stand and begin mingling—albeit uncomfortably—amongst each other.

Again you hear the Corrino and Fenring Reverend Mothers speaking. Only this time they offer biting criticism not only of the situation at hand, but of your marriage—a marriage that they had a large hand in arranging. The things directed at yourself breeze past you, but you will allow none of their bitterness to be directed towards your Warmaster.

“-would have never allowed this shameful union to go forth if we had foreseen such an outcome. How terrible it is to see a talented yet difficult woman forced alongside such a brutal, ugly man…”

With a shattered heart, you feel Gurney’s stalwart hand leave you as he recoils at their hatred. Each and every forgotten doubt and insecurity about your arrangement suddenly comes flooding back to him. At the same time, you're assaulted by memories of countless cruel words shouted at you by members of the Sisterhood during your many years of training.

Jessica—your friend to the point of kinship—signs to you once more. Times have changed. Outside of us, the Sisterhood holds no power here.

Knowing her words to be true, you push your chair backward and stand in firm defiance of them. 

"SIT DOWN!" you command in Bene Gesserit tongue.  

Your ears are immediately allowed to savor the dull thud of bodies colliding with chairs. Paul dismisses Gurney and Stilgar in anticipation of your actions, knowing full well how their temper and affection will bring nothing but harm.

you don’t move a muscle as they leave. Though just as anticipated, you sense Gurney lingering just beyond the door.

Always a worrier, that one.

A glimmer of thought flashes behind your eyes then. A well trained Bene Gesserit wife should silence herself when in the company of both her husband and others. As quickly as the thought appears, your mind stamps it out. You know deeply how your talents greatly shadow your desire to comply.

Slamming your hands flat against the table, you capture what remaining attention isn't upon you and you hesitate none to unleash your displeasure.

"How dare you speak of your husband in this manner! Each of us sat lounging around this table knows perfectly well the nature of what he has done, achieved, and survived. There is not one individual amongst the Fremen or House Atriedes who will say that Gurney is an unrighteous or dishonorable man! And who knows the true nature of a man better than his own wife? How shameful of you to say that our marriage is anything short of suitable and well-anointed!"

your voice carries clear into the hall, and you sense only prideful satisfaction from your beloved standing in wait outside the door.

"Your flagrant talk has made clear where your allegiances lie. While we Fremen will do nothing of harm to you, we will also provide you no assistance in whatever lies ahead."

You inhale a sharpened breath. Paul offers a nod of endorsement without hesitation. An angry grin burns across your face.

"I hope your travels home are pleasant, seeing as you are no longer welcome here on Arrakis."

You turn on your heel without giving them the slightest chance to respond. your thoughts are focused solely on your desire to be away from everything. The fabric of your skirts flits behind you as your crysknife’s sand colored sheath glints against the sunlight.

"May shame befall each of you." you curse as you stride out of the room.

No one—not even Jessica or Chani—attempts to follow you. A fact of which you are thankful for.

Your footing is sure as you enter the hallway. The door closes behind you and you’re only a mere few feet past it before your arm is captured. If it were anyone else, your knife would have long since been buried in their flesh. Yet you know his touch as intimately as you know anything, and you willingly let yourself be pulled away.

You are content as he weaves his way through the halls and into your shared quarters.

Once the door is shut, you start to rid yourself of your armor and ceremonial clothing.

As you unpin your head-covering, you give quiet thanks for your strength along with the peace you are granted by Your Warmasters' safe return. You take the time to savor the slight weight of the Orange Catholic Bible you keep beneath your chest plate—a habit you formed after the Harkonnen’s and Sardaukar’s joint attack that led to Gurney’s apparent death.  Your mind floats easily to the scriptures. A renewed comfort filling you as you recite Psalm 29:11 under your breath. The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace.

After dressing yourself in soft and informal clothing, you pad your way over to Gurney and join him in sitting on your bed.

He’s discarded his shoes but remains in his earlier outfit. You’d usually scold him for dirtying the smooth, pale bed linens with his day clothes, but you decide against it after the mentally tiring events of today.

You settle less than an arm's length away from him and sit with crossed legs before you begin to loosen a small, knotted braid that lie buried amongst your tangled curls.

“May I request a song, beloved?”

He obliges you, and you hum softly along to the tune he plucks on his baliset.

So much uncertainty lies outside your door, and we both know that there is much to talk about. Nonetheless, you the heavy topics minimal thought. Both of you are in agreement that these quiet moments of domesticity are too far and few between to not be seized.

As his song comes to an end, you close the gap between us and make your feelings for him known—the same feelings that drive you to defend him so fiercely. The kiss you share is soft, and you’re satisfied with the content grumble that rolls through his chest.

A sudden jolt of laughter grows inside you. Unable to contain it, you pull away from his lips. He feigns offense at your departure before gruffly prompting you to explain.

“When the Bene Gesserit first declared our arrangement, they had hoped you’d give you a life of hardship. Given your frightening reputation, It made simple sense. But, knowing what you know now, you can’t help but find humor in how wrong their assessment was.”

“You don’t see your reputation as earned?” he interjects teasingly, and you send him a playful but sharp look in response.

“If only you’d seen their faces when I spoke out of turn…” you say.

Something in the air shifts, and his brow creases with earnest. A few beats of silence pass.

“I know their faces because I’ve seen the looks you earn. This was just the first time you’ve noticed.”

You soften instantly at his words. Gurney is not a man for flattery, and your training affirms that he only speaks truth.

“Stop being so… modest. You’ve well earned your praise.” He continues, taking note of your silence.

A sudden heat rises to your cheeks. He watches you for a few moments before shaking his head solemnly.

"All that you, Jessica, and the boy went through after the attacks… What you yourself have achieved…” he mumbles, shaking his head again.

“That lies behind us, and we must now look forward,” you say, bringing a hand to his face and running your thumb absentmindedly along the deep scar of his cheek.

You meant nothing but comfort, but his eyes quickly grow dark with concern. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know exactly what clouds his mind.

The future. It worries me.

Taking this as a cue, you give him a soft yet reassuring smile before changing the subject entirely.

“Seeing as we missed out on dinner, would you be a dear and go collect our portions?” you say while shifting to lie down flatly on our bed.

"Are you asking me to steal, my lady?”

You turn your head towards him.

“It’s not stealing if it’s already intended for you,” you say mirroring his playful stare with your tone.

“Hmm, is that so?” he grunts, “and how would that defense hold up against the Council?” he finishes with an added air of challenge.

While forming a response you notice that Gurney is already slipping into his shoes.

“Given that the council is presumably dissolved under Paul’s leadership, we’ll just have to wait and find out.” you counter.

He clicks his tongue, though not disapprovingly.

“Always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

“As is the Bene Gesserit way,” you reply, smiling.

You may be a hawkish and unwanted member of the Sisterhood, but that doesn’t mean you despise them in return. Their teachings have undoubtedly saved your life on more occasions than you care to count. They also—albeit accidentally—blessed you with a Great House that cares for you and a wonderful man made of humor, wit, and strength. While you and the Bene Gesserit may never see eye to eye, those two simple facts are more than enough to earn them a narrow piece of your honor.

#dune #gurney halleck #gurney halleck x reader #gurney x reader #dune x reader #dune fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune 2024

[thealexandriaarchives]

I can't stop staring at Feyd-Rautha's walk here and what it implies about his fight with Paul now that I'm able to stop just comparing it to Timothy's killer body work matching it (or vice versa).

Villeneuve takes the book canon, that the Harkonnens took the Atredies's morbid heirlooms of an oil painting of grandfather's death and the bull's head with his blood still dried on his horns to hang above the arena as trophies to the next level: making Feyd-Rautha the victorious young matador with the guards dressed as bull-minotaurs, circling to play banderillos and sink banderillas into the backs of the Atredies bull if it gets too close before the final faena has Feyd-Rautha pulling his opponent past him in the close, intimate passes that show off his athleticism and skill before his false blade is exchanged for the one that will be used for the killing blow and oh my god there are whole schools of thought on coming forward to meet your opponent vs waiting for them and killing with a single blow to the heart and honoring the fight and if anyone who knows how to make gifsets wants make one about this to I'd LOVE to rant more about the breakdown of these two fights and how Feyd is 1001% Matador Machismo but my point to all of this is:

Look at that Sand.

Look at his feet dig deep and kick it up as he strides out into the heart of that arena. Is it a rhythmic walk? Oh yes. Confident. Powerful. In the book this will be his 100th arena kill as he comes of age. This is his natural habitat. Where he learned his skills, for us to parallel with what we saw for Paul in Part 1.

This matters, because it's one of the main premises for why the Fremen are so Good At Fighting. When everyone is trained to fight with shields (stun then slow) and bulky armor, and on flat, solid ground with lots of cover, it's easy to be fast and silent and terrifyingly effective against them. Gurney Halleck is shown to be one of the best fighters in the franchise and the film makes a point of showing how his (recognizable) footsteps are not suited to move quickly, lightly, and with stability on sand like they are on solid ground.

Only... Bullfighting rings aren't sandy. They're fairly hardpacked. Earth for the bull and Matador to maneuver in quickly. There is a layer of albero traditionally layered on top, a chunky yellow clay dirt that serves aesthetics but also absorbs blood quickly. The idea the sand may not be white because... With Giedi Prime who knows?! Is Fantastic.

Paul Muad'Dib became the only Atredies to be recognized as Fremen, to see his father's dream of Desert Power recognized, to fight as Fedaykin, to be recognized as the Mahdi, the One Who Points The Way, and it is made clear to us from the opening words of a Child's History of Muad'Dib that Arrakis was his Home, and yet every major one-on-one duel he had from Jamis to Feyd-Rautha was on solid ground, giving him an advantage that made him respected as a fighter among the Fedaykin right away as part of his training.

Feyd-Rautha was the one Harkonnen who may have learned combat primarily or even exclusively with sand beneath his feet, and he died on Arrakis on the polished stone floors of a palatial residence, still trying to play by Matador rules.

thank u for coming to my Ted Talk

#dune meta #feyd rautha harkonnen #paul atreides #dune part 2 #burn after scrolling #dune #dune 2024 #feyd rautha #house harkonnen #feydpaul