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jomiddlemarch · 24 days

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All alone at midnight, where did that beloved go?

After she had drunk the Water of Life and Awakened Alia, Jessica was never alone unless she was dreaming. Her unborn daughter, whom she had earlier only felt as the shifting clouds over the Caladan horizon, lit from behind by the sun, reflecting the unceasing motion of the sea, had become a voice as sharp as the blade of the sgian-dubh her father had worn to battle. Having another witch within her, challenging her, conspiring with her, was something like a blessing, if Jessica had believed in blessings, and something like a fetter, a bond unbreakable, unsought.

Jessica did not have to believe in fetters. She’d been born in them and knew they were as real as he eye in its socket, her blood coursing through her, waiting for the pull of a moon.

Alia slept, but never for long. While Jessica was awake, surrounded by the devout women in the sietch, allowing herself to be fed the highly spiced cakes and stews the Fremen preferred, her daughter carried on a conversation, her eagerness to know the world without demanding Jessica’s attention to every detail. The arch of an eyebrow, the flick of a robe’s sleeve. The soft curling cloud of fine sand kicked up by a determined stride. Alia thirsted and Jessica, who’d conceived her on a world of water, did not hesitate to slake her thirst.

Paul, for whom she’d made every choice, conceiving his sister as a token to be traded, risking her daughter’s sanity for her son’s survival, was absent.

Paul, the only person who might have grasped the cost, who might have recognized the exhaustion that had overtaken fatigue, held off by her training and her will, was not there to see her collapse after moonrise into a sleep she would never have risked while his father lived.

On Caladan, she had had the luxury of safety and slept as deep or light as she wanted, the castle and Leto’s arm bulwarks against danger.

She slept, on Arrakis, a sleep near to death, and she dreamed.

A hand stroked her unbound, unveiled hair very gently, so that she knew the power therein was restrained by choice. She felt, though she ought not, the heavy signet ring against her skin.

“You have done what you must, melissa,” Leto said, his voice as clear as if they’d been conversing in their chamber, a plate of honey-cakes and two glasses of wine set between them.

“You’re telling me that to comfort me,” she replied.

“Has it worked?” Leto asked, his dry humor apparent in the quirk of his lip, the gleam in his dark eyes. She was lying with her head in the crook of his arm. No one living would ever hold her tha way again.

“You are a construct and I am dreaming,” she said, feeling the air around her tremble. Leto’s hand paused and she regretted her words.

“You can’t know that. Not on Arrakis,” he said. “Not after you’ve breathed the spice like Caladan’s salt. Not after drinking the Water of Life and opening your mind.”

“You are a ghost, then?”

“From the moment you were bound to me, you have decided who I am to you, Jessica,” he said. “Nothing has changed.”

“How can you say that?” she asked.

“Because I am honest, even now,” he replied. “You’re troubled, kyria.”

“What I’ve done, what I’m doing, you say it’s what I must do and I want to believe that,” she said.

“You doubt yourself,” he offered.

“Paul is unhappy, conflicted. He’s so young and they want him to be their messiah. That’s all they want, the ones who count,” she said. The young woman, Chani, did not but she did not have the ability to shift the course.

“What you’ve done has kept our son alive,” Leto said. “Whoever he become, he was born Atreides and he carries that within him. If he does not wear the ring, he still holds it.”

“He’s desperate. He wants you,” she said.

“I know. I know it’s better to want a father than to know you must disregard him and find your own way in the dark,” he said. “You worry about Alia—”

“They will say she is Abomination.”

“They’ll say that but the Reverend Mother will wonder why you didn’t conceive her sooner,” Leto replied.

“And I have no answer,” she said.

“The answer is you wished for another life. Where our children were only that,” he said.

“They would always have been your Heirs,” Jessica replied.

“Fine,” Leto said, smiling. “We would have discussed their marriages, the alliances to be made. Paul would have driven us mad, sequestering himself in the far isles, talking of an anchorite’s retreat when you sensibly proposed Irulan and taking a concubine.”

“Alia needs sisters I cannot give her with you gone,” Jessica said.

“Then it will be hard for her,” Leto said. “Atreides and Arrakis. It’s her heritage. You didn’t ask me to make her. You didn’t ask me about Paul. But if you had—”

“If I had?”

“I would have said yes, melissa. Not for the House, for Thufir or Mohiam. Not for their little souls beyond the horizon. For you. For us. Because I love you,” he said.

“Not loved?”

“We are here together. Now. When you want me, I will be here with you,” he said.

“This is mélange?” she said.

“This desert can be a garden. There is an ocean of sweet water below the sand, a universe of stars we can’t count and know they are there,” he said.

“You are a mystic now, Leto Atreides?” Jessica said.

“I am a realist, as I ever was,” he said. He shrugged and it brought her closer to him. He laid his hand upon her cheek, a familiar gesture that made her eyes fill with the tears that were forbidden to spill on Arrakis. “There is nothing more real than this dream, Jessica. Whoever you must be when you wake, you are still this woman, the one I hold in my arms, whose soul is dearest to me.”

“I miss you,” she said, small words in a small voice, one she had not been allowed to use as a child, that he’d coaxed from her first when she carried Paul, dizzy and ill, fearful of putting her trust in him. He’d known and had told her so, his candor the token she’d needed.

“I miss you too,” he said. “It hurt to go.”

“It hurts to leave. To wake up,” she said.

“There is no call of yours I will not answer,” he said, the modification of the Atreides creed a vow and also a tender jest. She smiled up at him but he did not smile in return.

“Tell me to kiss you,” he said.

“Kiss me, Atreides,” she said very softly. It was not the command he’d wanted but a plea.

There was darkness then and joy, ecstasy and salt. Her tears on his tongue. His spend on her thighs.

She woke up with the taste of honey on her lips, the strong heather honey of Caladan’s cliffs, her hair in a Caryatid’s plait. When Alia asked her what had happened, Jessica did not answer for a long moment.

“A dream. Home.”

#dune part two #dune 2024 #lady jessica #jessica x leto #duke leto atreides #dream #marriage #parents #romance #angst #I miss Leto Atreides so I brought him back #paul atreides #alia atreides #bene gesserit stuff #if you can use the spice to fold time #why not have access to other dimensions and realities?

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itsbuckytm · 2 months

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"We'll meet Again." Feyd-Rautha

Summary: As the twin or eldest child of the Atreides, numerous responsibilities came with the territory. Among them was the obligation to navigate diplomatic relations with various houses, particularly evident as your father finalized the contract for Arrakis and oversaw the spice harvest. During a meeting with the Harkonnens, Feyd-Rautha found himself captivated by the presence of the second pair of twins, unable to shake off his fascination.

Ps: English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any small grammar errors!

XOXO

Being the Atreides eldest child meant responsibilities. Some suggested getting married and yet the Duke Leto’s most profound plan was more than that. In fact, training his most prestige and intelligent children was yet to become a fruitful generation of the Atreides family itself. With how the Duke was just establishing his agreement for Arrakis. Things were just getting started.

In the early hours of the morning, Duke received messages first from Harkonnen, then from the Bene Gesserit, expressing their desires to put Paul through the long-awaited test. And potentially discussing a marriage proposal for the daughter. A sister of the Bene Gesserit, Helen, sought Paul’s testimony, the agreement for which was expected that same evening. Despite the unspoken bond within the family, evident in your brother's gentle gaze and the shared understanding, the weight of his father's gaze lingered heavily. ‘Will my children endure this infernal place?’ he pondered, resolved to safeguard their legacy.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but dwell on your own outcome. Your brother's training sessions had just commenced, while Duncan had departed for the day as usual. You remained in your study as your mother fetched your brother's attire for his test, that same morning. Despite her attempts to mask it, her eyes betrayed her worry and sorrow at witnessing her second child assuming the mantle of their House. Being descended from the Bene Gesserit, you understood her emotions intimately, benefiting greatly from the shared similarities. A sense of satisfaction washed over you as you caught your mother's gaze, exchanging a knowing smile. Her subtle nod reassured you that everything would be alright. ‘Yes, everything will be okay. Paul is strong,’ you reassured her, the words lingering in your memory.

As the Atreides tended to their familial matters, the Baron of Harkonnen, accompanied by his nephew Feyd-Rautah, received an unexpected but rather fruitful invitation to today's council from Duke Leto. Paul's inclusion in the invitation was urged strongly by your father, whose beseeching eyes left no room for refusal. With Paul's future as the Duke in mind, you felt compelled to comply. "Will father object?" you queried during breakfast, noticing your mother's absence as she assisted Dr. Yueh in preparing Paul for his impending test. Initially hesitant, you cited the traditional exclusion of women from male-dominated spaces and political affairs. However, your brother's persistence, coupled with his revelation of your father's endorsement, swayed your decision. "Father’s orders," he disclosed, highlighting the potential impact of your presence, particularly concerning the Harkonnen. With reluctance, you acquiesced, stating, "Very well, but understand that I do this for you." Paul's satisfied expression betrayed a hint of amusement.

The following day dawned with Paul's early hours consumed by Helen's final test. The Bene Gesserit sister arrived unexpectedly early, not only focusing on your brother's training but also involving you both. Despite the Bene Gesserit's usual bore for daughters, Paul's exceptionalism as the heir and you being twins altered the dynamic. Helen took matters into her own hands, prioritizing Paul's training just as she had done with yours, although you were included as part of the package deal, inseparable twins as you were.

Contrarily, you were well aware that today involved attending your father's council and orchestrating a proper reception for the Harkonnen. With a portion of their fleet bound for Arrakis, the Baron saw fit to bring his nephew along, a gesture of goodwill as they preferred to present it. While your mother urged you to accompany your brother, it was during breakfast that the next generation of Atreides convened. "Y/N," your mother's voice echoed in your mind. The test had concluded, your brother standing beside her, his expression inscrutable. This time, he exuded more confidence, yet there was a noticeable change from days past. His gaze barely left you as he silently confirmed his test's success. The trial had instilled apprehension in Helen, for both her daughter and now her son. Jessica had undoubtedly made an impression on her Reverend Mother, as expected. But something felt off–

"Father is awaiting your presence; the Council convenes shortly. Come, dress quickly," Jessica urged, her concern evident in her voice as she ushered both of you towards your father's chambers. "Of course, mother," You affirmed, Paul opting to fetch by your side as you readied yourself. His unease at the prospect of you encountering the Harkonnen was unmistakable, yet as you rose with assurance, adhering to your mother's instruction to dress appropriately, your brother remained silently supportive within the confines of the family abode. "Father will be pleased to see you alongside our new guests," he remarked, though the term 'guest' felt inadequate for the Harkonnens, known for their relentless pursuit of perfection within their domain—a trait reminiscent of the Bene Gesserit's own household.

"Ah, don't even get me started," you chuckled in response to his cynical remark, finishing your final adjustments in front of the mirror before approaching your brother. "You’re beautiful, Duncan would be damned not to see you right now." Paul admitted, though he was just as sparing with compliments as your father, if not more so. You chuckled again and tousled his hair affectionately. "Shame for him, indeed. Let's go then, Father must be waiting for us."

Duke Leto awaited his children to join him as he heard approaching footsteps, realizing they belonged to you and your brother. It was evident from their tardiness that they would likely be teased by Halleck. Paul, with a subtle smirk, leaned towards the man, who promptly assigned you to sit beside him as your father entered the room. "Paul, Y/N," Duke Leto acknowledged, and both of you nodded, maintaining impeccable etiquette. A moment of silence hung in the air as your father took his seat next to Halleck, acknowledging the arrival of the guests, unmistakably the Harkonnen. "Bring them in," he instructed.

Feyd-Rautha, accompanied by the Baron and Glossu, made their entrance. You couldn't help but notice the Harkonnens' air of perfection and similarity, a trait you had been warned about during your training sessions with Halleck, who delighted in describing them as ruthless monsters. It was surreal to see Halleck now sitting beside your father without so much as a flinch, as if their inevitable downfall was already evident and he felt no fear in displaying his disdain for their kind. Meanwhile, both Paul and you were filled with curiosity, and you caught sight of someone observing you from a distance. Just as introductions were about to be made, your gaze met that of Feyd-Rautha. His name was revealed by the Baron in a manner that attempted to convey affection but came across as somewhat grotesque.

Feyd-Rautha's gaze seemed fixed on yours, but thankfully, your father's voice signaled the beginning of the council, prompting everyone to take their seats for further discussion. Paul noticed, as he always did. He observed you clumsily attempting to handle a cup of water in a manner befitting of civilization, all the while sensing Feyd's unwavering focus on you. To him, you were his prey, much like how the Baron sought amusement during his stay on Arrakis. If it weren't for his insistence on accompanying the group, he might have missed the opportunity to encounter a face as captivating as yours. His smirk became more pronounced when the topic of your potential betrothal to a House chosen by your father was broached. You couldn't help but cough in surprise, prompting Paul to lean towards you and whispered, "Are you alright?" You nodded quickly, and you could have sworn you heard him chuckle.

"Yes—" You started, but your coughing grew more pronounced as all attention turned towards you. Your father expressed immediate concern and moved to summon medical assistance, but you objected, requesting a moment alone. Rising from your seat, you were just moments away from agreeing to the medical aid. You couldn't shake the feeling of Feyd-Rautha's penetrating gaze, and perhaps Paul's knowing glance. To Feyd-Rautha's evident amusement, this seemed only the beginning. "Farewell, you may depart," your father concluded, dismissing the attention focused on you.

"I suppose she's quite spirited, discussing marriage at such a young age, Poor thing." Halleck's voice remarked. It was something you had come to understand during your time in the opulent halls and corridors of House forces—that even the venerable Halleck, with all his gravity, possessed a degree of perceptiveness uncommon among men. However, this observation didn't sit well with Feyd. In fact, he couldn't resist making a remark, perhaps ill-timed and ill-phrased, which prompted Paul to rise from his seat, ready to confront him. "Surprising for an Atreides, she's not much for entertainment," he quipped, just before being cut off by Leto, redirecting the conversation towards political matters. But Feyd had other intentions. Aware that you had likely stepped out for some fresh air, he seized the excuse to excuse himself to the bathroom.

Fortunately, you arrived just in time as Duncan returned from his visit with the Fremen. Upon hearing of his return, he also was well aware of the impending arrival of the Harkonnens. If it weren’t for Fremen business keeping him so late. Sensing your presence as their ships prepared to land, Duncan swiftly removed his mask and embraced you. "Is Paul not here?" he pondered, surprised as Paul typically would be the first to greet Duncan, followed by a later rendezvous in your study for practice. "In council, with father. Father insisted we both attend, and guess who's here," you replied, making it clear with your eyes that you were referring to the Harkonnens. You were cautious not to reveal too much, knowing that any hint would only provide more amusement for Feyd to torment you with.

"Harkonnen. I'm aware," Duncan affirmed, sharing your sentiment, until his gaze shifted from yours to someone in the distance. It was someone who perhaps wasn't welcome if intruding but was expected at today's event. Duncan leaned in carefully, recognizing that whoever the man was seeking out for, it was likely you. "I suggest you go speak to that man. If there's one thing my mother taught me, it's to never ignore your own apprehension," he advised, tousling your hair gently as you tried your best not to pout in response, before he hurried off to join your father.

On the other hand, Feyd couldn't tear his gaze away from the man's eyes. Was he someone he'd eventually have to confront? Such thoughts were irrelevant. All he craved was you, completely. As the pilot room emptied, a haunting silence filled the air. Duncan's words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the inevitable encounter with Feyd-Rautha as part of collaborating with the Harkonnens. As he approached cautiously, you flinched, muscles tensing. His nearness seemed to radiate warmth, almost as if your skin would brush against his. "So... It's you," his voice pierced the silence. It wasn't the tone you anticipated or sought. It was soft, yet carried a comforting warmth reminiscent of Arrakis's weather. “Atreides’s very own princess.”

Your eyes never leaving his gaze. You could’ve sworn yourself that if you even tried to escape you couldn’t. In fact, your eyes even tried to sorrow for comfort elsewhere, but the darkness and contrast beneath his skin felt cold, slowly loosing yourself entirely within him all together. As his hand drawing near you, his fingers brushing around your waist…

"Y/N. They're leaving." Paul's voice echoed in your mind, interrupting any chance of leaning closer and feeling the faint touch of Feyd's lips. You pondered: was this love, or merely a trap ensnaring a woman's blind eye? Oddly, your brother's voice now felt distant, but you quickly regained your senses as Feyd realized the moment couldn't last. He must resist, for now. His smirk grew more pronounced upon hearing the Baron's voice calling out his name, one of the most memorable yet unsettling utterances you'd ever heard. As Feyd cast one final admiring glance your way, he whispered, "We'll meet again, my Queen..."

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