𝔗𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔞

˚ · • . ° .

You awoke to his fingertips drifting their way across your frame, peppering the freckles and moles on your skin with smooth motions. His calloused fingers were careful not to apply heavy pressure, ghosting along your body, in fear of disturbing your slumber, something he had subconsciously accomplished.

The sunlight was trickling through the sheer curtains, material floating in the warm breeze that the Arrakis air had blessed you with. Shimmers of gold danced their way into the cascade of blankets that shrouded the two intertwined bodies in a covering of comfort. The tangled mess of limbs beneath the protective silk sheets radiated warmth, something that was in plentiful supply in the desert world. The bustle of groups in the courtyard below the haven where you rested began to rise in volume as your ears adapted to the surroundings.

You moaned sincerely, exhaling for as long as your lungs would psychically allow without a cough erupting from your throat. Your eyes slowly open in a drunkenly sleepy state, the sunlight from outside temporarily overwhelming your perception of the world for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your body lets out a whine of a yawn. You stirred, flushing your hips and rear against the build behind you, Paul breathed deeply in response sending tingles up your neck and into your thoughts.

His warm hands continued their travels around your body, wrapping their way around your shoulders to hold you close. You found your lips turning in a delirious smile, as you imagined the drowsy figure of devotion behind you, nestled against your warmth and the pillows behind him. Your back pressed into his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, a careful whisper falling from his lips; “I did not mean to wake you.”

He tenderly planted a kiss against the skin that lay there, softly rubbing his cheek against the blemishes decorated along your skin, soaking in your very human spirit. You feel the curve of his jaw drift along your nape as his gentle, slow, kisses make their way along your neck, breathing in every inch of your scent he could take. You moaned in response, opening your eyes totally this time, your body used to the sudden shock of being alive.

“I’m glad you did.” You responded, your voice still groggy, clinging to the last linger of your immobile delicate state. You lay, basking in the calmness that enveloped your being, gently sneaking one of your hands along the front of your nightgown, careful not to disturb Paul’s peaceful position, as you brought a finger up to itch at your eye. His warm breath hummed into your neck in response, your heartbeat aching for him once more. A breath fell from your lips as he held you tightly, taking in the moment as he merged your bodies together into one tenderness engulfed by his power and strength. You savoured the moment like a sip of sweet wine after a hectic meeting, swirling the droplets of love like rivers of drink.

The room around you bathed in your tranquillity. You found your legs moving with your newfound sense of cognition, intertwined in your lover’s frame. The pools of light from the arched windows gushed down the side of the windowsill, soaking the bed and the corner of the room in a stunning haze of molten gold, almost blurry from the waves of blistering heat. The light reflected beautifully off the bed frame, dripping down the carved animal shapes etched within the golden slab, blinding your gaze as your eyelids fluttered. You breathed in, a wave of zesty air running through your nostrils, cleansing the inner workings of your mind with the very soul of the planet.

As you took your sudden breath, you felt Paul's hold shift beneath you under the weight of your slight movement. You seized the moment, taking advantage of his sudden loose grip, adjusting your position and surrendering the window for a better more perfect view. Paul followed your movements as if you were conjoined in thought, his strong arms instinctively enveloping your back, holding you close against his chest in a protective embrace, even though there were no instantaneous threats nearby. You felt his heartbeat slow against your chest, steady and reassuring, his bare skin shining in the light.

As you now faced him, you couldn't help the smile that thrived on your lips, taking in the sight of your betrothed so close. The boy you once knew had transformed into a man before your eyes, a thought which made your heart ache in the face of growing up, leaving adolescence behind. His jawline was more defined, leaving pudgyness behind him, cheekbones higher and his features so handsome and distinguished. A real Duke's son. You felt a sudden rush of rich emotion as your hand traced its fingertips along the side of his jaw, marvelling at how he had grown and changed. His eyes quivered with the sudden light pressure of your skin against his bones.

“Hello.” You beamed softly, his features soaked in the glitter of gold, sparkling along his face and drooping down his perfect nose. The side of his lips began to upturn with a small smile, a flash of his crooked teeth blessing your vision for the smallest second before they were covered by his beautifully pink lips. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed your way, eyelids almost fighting to stay open, threatening to close because of your close proximity. His hair, messier than usual, fell in delicate strands around his face, framing the perfect bone structure laying there, his cheeks hugging the curls close to his flushed skin.

“Hi.” He breathed, the air fanning across your face as he left a short kiss on your nose, lingering for a moment longer than needed before retreating back to face you. Your heart fluttered, still slightly dozy, but ever so alert for your man. Your special, special, man.

The relationship between you two hadn't sprung up overnight, it had been a cocktail of emotions dancing in the embers of a powerful childhood friendship. However, every subject, noble, royal, or warrior thought the former, that your relationship had been a strategised plan by two houses in desperate need of strength. The concerns of your emotions had been thrown in a heap in favour of their taled hearsay, sheltering your true desires for one other behind a mask of misleading plot and scheme.

From the moment you had first met Paul, soft cheeks that burned deep crimson, green eyes that shone like emeralds in inquiring and thoughtful gaze, baby fat still hanging from his frame, you had known he would be yours. You had taken his hand, being the older of the duo, and whisked him through the castle grounds in which your residence was kept. You documented how he had blushed when your finger outlined his hand when trying to imitate your mother's palm reading practices, thinking it hilarious when he had goggled at you in disbelief when you had told him his death was nigh, throwing your head back, laughing at your own foolishness. You didn't know it then, too sheltered by the shadows of youth and innocence to understand the burning ache that overpowered your every meeting with the delicate boy.

Although caught in the memory, you pondered how these feelings had never been addressed between the two of you. Only acted upon in burning frenzies, unmarried and improper. The naked warmth laying beside you, arms holding you close, was a byproduct of one of these moments. Parents and advisers oblivious to the intense lust you two harboured for one other.

“Did you sleep well?” He pondered, retreating to face you, his eyes darting from eye to eye unable to focus on one, desperate to take in all your features at once. The shimmering green of his eyes almost opaque in the light, shining a shade of hazel into the retinas.

“I did.” You smiled, recollecting the dream that flooded your mind when nestled in between the pillows and Paul’s figure. How real it had felt, “I dreamt of you.”

He hummed in response, as your hands continued their journey along his beautiful jaw, the stubble of manhood ghosting over your fingers as a reminder of his age. The dream had been simple, a premonition, a glimpse into the future of you and your sweet boy.

The sand beneath your feet had glimmered, Spice dancing over the sunburnt dune in which you had been perched. Paul looked different, older, wiser, almost an image of his father, standing proud and bold against the Arrakis rays. His frame was larger as if he had started taking his role as sole heir to his house's name seriously, the unquestionable probability that his father may not be alive forever finally sinking into his mind. He wore a Fremen stillsuit, fitting him like a glove and hugging his newfound larger muscles in a promiscuous yet savage way. Your hands had interlocked as you looked out into the vast desert, your body also adorning a suit of a similar nature, modified presumably by Paul to fit your frame and protect your body's water, storing it for later consumption. A small tent village was buried in the sandy dip below you both, lights and laughter emulating in the dying sun.

When your fingers had interlocked Paul turned to face you, the difference in his features striking you. His hair was longer, as though it hadn't been cut for a few months. The curls still framed his face, which was now older and worn, blemishes patterning the skin from work in the daylight, the planet consuming his once delicate and prince-like qualities. Small wrinkles lined his face, and his mouth turned up in a small treasuring gin, the corners of his eyes creasing in a look of eternal gratitude. But his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. Plunged into the deepest pool of oceanic blue, the colour reaching all across the sclera of his optics, swimming in his iris like a monumental wave on Caladan. A trademark of the Fremen, indigenous people of Arrakis, a sign that he, even you both, had been in their company for a period. He had drawn you in for a kiss, closing his eyes and pressing your lips together softly. One of his hands had gradually reached down the front of your suit, landing carefully on your stomach as if you may break of fragility.

"How is she?" He had whispered, the tube in his nose directing filtered air into his lungs, a massive smile now plastered across his face. You looked down to the small bump in your suit, peaking out in a reminder that you were his forever, and your family was about to start growing.

At this sentence you had awoken, your precious lover’s hands roaming around your arms and as you faced him now, you allowed yourself to smile, a wide preposterous smile.

"Why are you grinning?" He pondered, his hands rubbing along your back. "Was the dream that good, perhaps a premonition?"

A sudden urge ravaged through your body at the sight of him, the gentle sound of his voice. Perhaps the dream had made you hormonal, the thought of pregnancy clouding your judgement in a flash of beautiful white light. Your heart soured, the beating now frantic in your ears, tiredness dripping from your brain as it filtered its way out of your consciousness. For the first time in what felt like years, you were thinking clearly. The flash of the tomorrow, speeding through time at a pace unimaginable to those lacking your incredible power, the Bene Gesserit bloodline rushing through your veins, a path which you could have easily chosen, but instead preferred your heart. The adoration you harboured for this young man, his hair messy, was enough to make your sanity blank.

"I love you." The confession dripped from your lips, carrying the weight of an over decade-long friendship shattering with it. Most would ponder, question, how the friendship was not ruined when Paul first carried you to his room, your arms wrapped around his neck as you planted small drunk kisses against his sweaty skin. The breathless gasps and tender touches could not be shared between friends, mere friends did not know what it felt like to bed each other, bound eternally by an action you frantically clasped when you were mere late teenagers. How, when he came of age, you found yourself laying in these very sheets, starkly bare before his lean figure.

The words hung in the air the two of you shared, your heart beating tighter and quicker than it ever had before, thumping in the back of your mind as you impatiently awaited his reaction. Yet, Paul did not flinch, did not squirm when the three words left your breath in a tiny whisper, barely audible. His eyes maintained their movements between your two visions, still unable and frustrated that he could not drink your very body immediately, he believed it would be more deadly than the Water of Life, it would destroy his very being from the inside out with the amount of admiration he felt within his gut.

He brought his figure forward, interlocking his lips with yours, needy for your taste against his tongue. Your hands scratched down the side of his cheeks, trying your hardest to pull, engulf, him in your worship. You were suddenly reminded of your premonition, the blink into the future, his lips feeling the same as they would then. The thing that would return the man with you now to you at any moment, his love returned you to your shared youth, his palm against your hand as you read his future. But now you saw it, you saw it oh so clearly, and his mortal peril was your last concern when you had him so vulnerable, only yours until the stars exploded into supernova and the planet's moons crashed into the sands.

When he pulled away, his hands retracted from your back to cup your cheeks, running his thumb along the underside of your eye, removing a piece of sleep under his tender grasp. As your proximity caused your breaths to mingle, he answered your statement, the words dripping like saccharine from his tongue. Your sweet boy.

"I love you."

Witnessing you being confined in your tight clothes, the youngest and only son of the late Duke Leto, Paul Atreides stands from his mother’s side with a set of comfortable folded pieces of fabric in his hands. 

“Here, these’ll keep you cool from the sun.” He says, holding the fabric in front of you. 

Scoffing at the boy’s kind gesture, you snatch the clothes from his hand before retreating behind an open crevice in the caverns to change. Dropping the dark and heavy Bene Gesserit detailed clothing for some simpler, yet far more comfortable robes designed for the desert felt like a wonderful change. 

In a way, it felt like you were betraying your kind. Your code. But it had to be done. You vowed to protect this boy and his mother at any cost and that was what you were going to do. 

You weren’t going tp let the pressure get to you. After all, humans were made to have emotions. 

*****

The days passed as quickly as they came. Out here, time meant nothing, but it was everything. And Arrakis showed no mercy. 

The afternoons consisted of staying hidden from overhead Harkonnen patrols and their random ships, all while surviving the deathly rays of the sun. 

Then, at night, moving without rhythm was key. Often times, Paul and Jessica would have to step in your footprints in the sand in order to avoid being sensed by a sandworm. Spending time with both the key players of the Atreides family allowed you to open up more, and let go of your hardened emotions that the Gesserit taught you. 

You were beginning to open up to Paul, sharing stories together, staying up late at night to gaze at the stars that littered the desert sky, to even having a near intimate moment that was interrupted by Jessica asking for the binoculars. 

*****

The warm golden tones of the sun shone onto Jessica’s face, waking her for another day. Slowly regaining her bearings, the woman tip-toed through the sand, moving to check on her son. Rounding the corner of the long extinguished campfire, the thin sheet of raw silk blew in the breeze and Jessica moved the curtain. 

"You could have come in, you didn't have to wait." You know Paul will never heed your words. He's far too polite to walk into your room without asking your permission first, but you feel the need to tell him everything you find him at your chamber doors.

"I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" A quick scan of Paul doesn't show any sign of it being a physical surprise. His hands are clasped together in front of him and they seem to be empty. You look to his face to try and spot any sort of clue but his only response is to smile softly at you.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I trust you." Paul's hands move from his front as one falls to his side. The other rises in front of you as he opens his hand to you.

"Allow me to put this on?" In his outstretched hand is a piece of silk. You know he means to use it as a blindfold on you and, whilst it sends a flicker of fear down your spine, you trust him so implicitly that it's all you can do to nod gently. He makes quick work of putting it on, being particularly careful when he ties it.

"It's not too tight is it?" You can't help but smile fondly at the concern in his tone. Even after years of friendship and a year of being publicly betrothed, Paul still treats you as though you are made of something fragile. It's sweet of him.

"Paul it's fine." You listen as he steps around you, one hand rising to rest on your waist. He's careful when he encourages you to move forwards, stopping you after a few steps to close the door behind you before continuing to guide you through the palace. If he had done so in your old home you would've known where he was taking you but as it was you were completely clueless as to where he might be guiding you to.

It's only after what feels like the hundredth left turn that you decide to speak. "How much further?"

"Not long now." You can hear the amusement in his voice when he replies to you. True to his word though, after another few turns he stops moving to open a door in front of you. Another few steps and you're inside a room with him closing the door behind you.

"Can I take the blindfold off?"

"You can." You're almost nervous to do so but your fingers find the knot on the back of your head and your quick to untie it. You're not sure what you expected to find when you took the blindfold off but a room full of plants was definitely not in the realm of possibility.

You'd accepted that your position in life as the betrothed of the son of a Duke meant that you would be relocated alongside Paul and the rest of House Atreides as the Emperor saw fit but you had taken the news of leaving Caladan hard.

Caladan was your home. It had been difficult moving from a planet with such a rich ecosystem to a desert planet like Arrakis. You had done so without complaint as was expected of you but it had lowered your spirits in recent weeks. You thought you'd managed to hide your discomfort well, but you should've known how observant Paul was when it came to your wellbeing.

You find tears welling up in your eyes as you take in the room in front of you. The room is full of lush greenery, with a variety of plants you both recognise and have never seen before. None of them could be native to the planet, it's a much too harsh environment to support any of the ferns and shrubs surrounding you. The only conclusion you can draw is that Paul had all these plants imported for you. The notion sends a wave of affection through you as you finally turn to face him.

"I know this transition has not been easy on you. I wanted to do something to ease your homesickness."

"You did all this for me?" Paul turns bashful for a moment as though it hadn't occurred to him how well this gesture would be taken.

"I care deeply for you. I know it was not my choice to bring us to this planet but I hold some responsibility for the impact it has had on you. I wanted to help in any way I could." You turn away from him for a moment and run your hand over the closest fern to you. The feeling of it makes you close your eyes as it takes you back to the days you spent in the forests on Caladan.

"How is it you always know what I need?"

"You are my betrothed. It is my duty to know what you need and provide it." You feel him approach you from behind as he takes one of your hands in his.

"Thank you, Paul." You squeeze his hand gently, smiling as he returns the gesture.

"What are you doing out here?"

The sudden question pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly spun around and saw Paul coming towards You. Lowering your gaze again, your eyes wandered over the grave of Paul's grandfather who had died fighting a bull for entertainment.

"Just enjoying the view", you mumbled absently.

Paul looked gave you a confused look:"On the graveyard?"

You could only shrug:"It's not my fault that Caladan has such a beautiful countryside"

A small smile appeared on Paul's Face, as he raised his hand, reaching out for you.

"My father wants to talk to you", he explained, pulling you closer by your wrist. You felt his arms wrap around your body. Almost immediately you gave into his gentle touch, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"He said, it was something important", Paul mumbled into your hair. The intimacy of the moment caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"Are you cold?", Paul asked, noticing your reaction. But he gave you no time to answer, already taking off his coat and pulling it around your shoulders.

You sighed softly, glancing up at him as he was busy adjusting it on you. He was slightly taller than you, so the coat almost hang to your feet.

You felt his hand grasp your cheek and he brushed away a stray piece of hair that had fallen into your face. His hand lingered on your skin for a second before he reluctantly pulled away:"We should go"

You nodded, taking his hand in yours as the two of you made your way back to the palace.

It only took a you a few minutes until you were standing in front of Duke Leto's office.

"My father probably wants to talk to you about Arrakis", Paul mumbled quietly, letting go of your hand, "If you will accompany us or not"

"I'm sure I will", you nodded slowly, "I'm your mother's maid after all and it was said that all of House Atreides was to go to Arrakis..."

For a brief Moment, it was silent in the corridor, until Paul took a step towards you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

"See you later", you muttered into his shoulder, before the two of you parted again and Paul made his way back to his quarters.

When he disappeared around the corner, you turned towards the Door of Leto's office. To say you were nervous was an understatement. The Duke never asked you to speak privately unless it was about your past Life. No one but him and Jessica knew about your origin and you hoped he intended to keep it that way.

Attempting to clear your mind, you finally raised your hand, knocking three times on the door.

A few seconds later, you heard the Dukes voice from inside:"Come in"

With one last deep breath, you pushed down the door handle and stepped inside. Duke Leto gave you a warm smile:"Y/N, it's good to see you"

You bowed your head, returning his smile:"The pleasure is all mine, my Lord."

"We have to talk about a few things. Take a seat"

You gulped almost unnoticeably and did as the Duke told you to. A deep sigh fell from his lips, before he looked up, a serious expression on his face.

"It's the Harkonnen"

You felt your heart skip a beat as your suspicion became reality.

"But the Na-Baron thinks, I am dead", you whispered, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm yourself, "How could they know, what happened!?"

The Duke only looked at you for a monet, a deep sadness in his eyes, before he stood up, walking over to a cupboard and pulling out a dagger. A weapon that you knew all too well

"A few days ago, we caupt a spie who was carrying this weapon. He disguised himself as a servant.", The Duke explained, putting the dagger down in front of you.

Reluctantly, you raised your gaze, eyes wandering over the deadly weapon that every Harkonnen warrior carried with themselves.

"They're after you", Leto stated plainly.

You felt overwhelmed for a moment. Overwhelmed by everything. After everything you had been through, you thought that you had finally escaped. That it was over, but it seemed like fate was laughing at you. Pointing at you and laughing about your stupidity.

"What are we going to do now?", you finally asked.

"We are gonna increase your protection, of course. We have to be careful.", Leto stated, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

Your gaze wandered up to the Duke:"Are you sure, I'm worth all this?"

Your question seemed to surprise him. He stood up, rounding the table:"Y/N, when I took you in, you swore me your allegiance. And ever since, all you have done was in best interest for House Atreides. You have been a good servant for Jessica and an even better friend and Companion for Paul. You have become a part of this family, and I would be doomed if I didn't protect my own family."

You nodded, a silent tear slipping down your face:"Thank you, my Lord."

He smiled, gently patting your shoulder, "You should go to bed now, it's late already. And don't worry, House Atreides will protect you."

You bowed your head again, thankful for the Dukes decision. You slowly stood up, ready to leave his office, when you heard him call out for you once more:"Y/N?"

"Yes?", you said, not daring to look at Leto. You already had a feeling about what he was going to ask of you.

,, I think it's time to tell Paul", He said, confirming your suspicion.

"Yes, My Lord", you mumbled absently, before grabbing the door handle and making your way out of the Room. How could you ever explain to Paul that you were a Harkonnen?

For hours upon hours, you paced your room, racking your brains off about how you were going to tell Paul about your past.

When you came to the decision that there simply wasn't a "right way" to tell him the news, you just wanted to march to his room and tell him the truth. But right as you were about to leave your quarters, you heard a commotion from the room next door.

That was Paul's room.

Your eyes widened and you sprinted towards your door, your dress fluttering behind you. You quickly stepped into the empty hallway, storming towards Paul's door. The lack of people in the hall made you even more warry than before.

You refrained from knocking, simply deciding to grasp the door handle and step inside Paul's Room. You only hesitated for a moment as you heard something shatter inside the room.

Without another thought, you pulled the door open, walking inside and letting it fall shut behind you.

Your jaw dropped at the sight. There was no one there Exept for Paul. But it looked like an army had stormed his room and trashed everything inside it.

When Paul realized that you were standing by the door, his gaze slowly wanderd up from the floor.

"Y/N", his voice sounded like venom,causing you to back off in fear. You had never seen Paul this angry, not with you at least. You had seen the young Prince in training with Gurney Halleck and you had alway hoped that his wrath would never cross you. All that seemed like wishful thinking now.

"Paul, what are you-",you mumbled quietly, but your question Was harshly interrupted as Paul jumped up. Within seconds he was standing in front of you, his frame towering above you.

"Why didn't you tell me!?", he sounded hurt. You could only sigh. He must've eavesdropped on your conversation with his father.

"The Duke forbid me from telling.", you tried to explain, lowering your gaze to the floor. You knew that answer would not satisfy him.

"No!", he shouted angrily, grasping your chin and pulling your face up to look at him. What you saw in his eyes shook you to your very core. It was not only anger, but betrayal and hurt. You had done something that you promised you would never do. You had hurt him.

"You're a Harkonnen", his voice barely above a whisper.

All you could do was nod and tell the truth:"I am. I was born on Giedi Primus."

"But why didn't you tell me?!", his grip on your face losened and he let his hand fall back to his side.

"The Duke thought it would be better if no one knew, that he employed a Harkonnen", you sighed deeply, "And I couldn't bring myself to tell you. I thought you'd hate me. Resent me and tell me that I was not worthy of your friendship..."

Paul said nothing, his gaze wandered over your face. You had a hard time deciphering what was going on inside his head.

You felt tears well up on the brim of your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to hold Paul in your arms again, not a single Problem in the world. But you knew it would never be like that again. With a shaky breath, you reached out for Paul's hand. To your surprise, he let you take it, "Paul, I promise, All we ever wanted...All I ever wanted, was to protect you"

For an agonizingly long moment, nothing happened. He didn't say anything, nor did he move. But then finally, he gently squeezed your hand, his anger seemed to be melting away slowly:"Tell me then. Tell me the truth. Who are you really?"

You knew that he would ask this eventually. And you knew that you had to tell him. But that didn't mean you had to like it. Remembering and revisiting your past life, it was something you never wanted to do again.

"Please Y/N, please tell me. I need to know", Paul almost begged. You could only nod. You knew you owed him the truth.

You felt Paul gently lean his head against yours in an attempt to calm you down. He seemed to notice that you struggled about your past Life. You slowly closed your eyes, beginning to re-tell the story.

"I-I don't really know where to start", you muttered, unsure of what exactly to tell him. Paul raised his hand, gently cupping your cheek and brushing his fingers over your soft skin. His touch seemed to put you at ease, helping you find the right words.

"It's alright. Take your time", Paul said.

You opened your eyes again, looking up at the young Atreides. You could still see anger and hurt lingering in his eyes, but there was something else now...

Empathy.

With shaking hands, you finally started:"I was a servant to Feyd-Rautha. The nephew of the Baron. I never wanted to serve the royal family or live with them or anything else that concerned them, but I had no choice. I was chosen, taken away from my parents and raised in the palace, trained to serve them."

Paul's brows furrowed, he seemed agitated by your story.

"Go on", he mumbled.

"Feyd-Rautha is a bloodthirsty man. His hunger for Pain and suffering...It felt like a matter of when he was going to hurt me, not if. And what had to happen, happened..."

You were quiet for a moment, unsure of how to say the next words, but you decided to just blurt it out:"I became his concubine. His plaything. And when he got tired of me, he discarded me like a ragdoll. Broken and battered, I escaped from Giedi Primus on a ship of Atreides spies. They had taken me in, officially I was a prisoner. But when The Duke saw me and heard my story, he said he would take me in if I swore allegiance to him... "

You were no longer able to stop the tears from falling down your face. You were unable to look Paul in the eyes as you hugged yourself in an attempt to calm your raging thoughts. Images of your past crept into your mind, pushing you closer and closer to a melting point.

"I didn't know how to tell you, especially you. I was only 13 back then. I had no one and then..."

An unexpected chuckle escaped your lips, as you thought back to the day, you had met Paul for the first time. The both you were only 14 and not really interested in any relationship whatsoever, but you became friends nonetheless.

" I met you", you mumbled.

Paul only furrowed his brows. He didn't seem to understand what you were trying to say.

"You made everything better. You made the pain go away and I..."

"You?", Paul asked carefully. His eyes were full of compassion. You could tell he wanted to avenge you for what had been done to you. He slowly reached for your cheek, gently wiping away your tears. You sniffled quietly, reluctantly leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I think I've fallen for you, Paul Atreides"

What surprised you, was the chuckle that left Paul's lips,"All the time I thought, it wasn't mutual, but-"

His voice died down as you looked back up at him. His hand gently brushed over your cheek, his tender touch making your breath hitch.

Paul felt like home. His touch was something entirely different then what you had experienced on Giedi Primus.

Your eyes flutterd shut as he gently pressed his lips to yours.

It made you feel like you could forget the universe. Like all that mattered right now was Paul and you. He could make you forget about everything that you had been through. He made you feel safe.

A knock at the door caught you both off guard.

"Paul? Are you alright? I heard some commotion earlier and Y/N is not in her room?"

It was Leto.

"I'm alright, Father. Y/N is here with me", Paul shouted. There was silence for a second.

"Did she tell you?", Leto asked, his voice laced with slight worry.

Paul's gaze wandered from the door back to you. A soft smile appeared on his face and you gave him a grin in return.

"She did!", he yelled.

" I'll leave you two alone", Leto said in return and you could hear his footsteps vanish.

Paul kept looking at the door for a few seconds before he leaned back down, reconnecting your lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

"I love you, Paul Atreides", you mumbled against his lips.

Paul's smile only widened:", I love you too. Y/N..."

You frowned slightly. It wasn't a surprise for you that he didn't dare to speak your last name.

"Y/N Atreides"

Your eyes widened and your frown wavered, making place for a look of surprise.

"It sounds great, don't you think? ", Paul smiled, "Let me make you an Atreides"

You could only respond by pressing your lips to his again in a short and tender kiss.

"Can we kiss forever, please?", Paul slowly mumbled.

Jessica had always warned you not to speak to her son, despite being the same age as him, she didn't want anyone from Bene Gesserit to interact with him, which is strange because she is a bene gesserit or is that just stupid coming from you. You never thought the duke's son would be this magnificent in the eyes, you can just stare at him the whole day and won't get tired of his gloriously exquisite structured face. 

You would sneak glances every time he passes by you or when he would talk to his mother and you're just right behind her, of course you're careful not to get caught by her or else you'd be kicked out not only from their household but out of the planet. It'd be like trying to cross a minefield when trying to catch a glimpse of him without his mother cursing you and your ancestors. 

And she advises you not to wander to the wing where his room is located, she's already dealt with enough ladies in the court to know the tricks they play when trying to secretly meet her son, such a shame to wear a pretty face on but to have terrible manners, she shook her head, my son deserves more than your pathetic whore you call your daughter Lord ____. She of course wants the best of the best for her one and only son, the heir to Duke Leto Atreides' throne that's why she's so harsh when it comes to talking about his future partner, hence the future duchess of Caladan. 

Paul never liked how his mother welcomed a stranger into their home and taught her things as she did him, he didn't like it when his mother taught him the voice and also had to teach it to her too, he didn't like how fast she was with her lessons just as he was with his, it's a daily torture thinking about how to improve and be faster with his when she is just right behind him, chasing, he wanted to be better so that his mother can see how stronger he is than that cunt who dares compete with the duke's son. 

He cannot fathom how angry he was when his mother explained to him that she was chosen to be this girl's teacher, an attention whore, he thought, he once believed that she was another random lady in court trying to win his attention by successfully convincing his mother to be her teacher so that she could get closer to him. No, she was not. 

His mother told him that this was only temporary, that she was only here to broaden her experience when it comes to the voice. But oh was she so wrong, she is also stuck in this particularly peculiar power, like him, she's also struggling in using it on command, and he's so frustrated that he's as bad as her, he should be better than her, he should be able to use the voice freely unlike her who's stuck not knowing how to use it, but here. he. was. 

"It's good you're up early" Jessica announced, bringing a spoon of food to her mouth. "Your father wants you in full dress before the Emperor's herald arrives"

"Full dress?" He murmurs, glancing from his food to his mom for a second, he hesitates briefly before looking up again. "Military?" 

"Ceremonial" His mom answered as he grumbled about the fact he has to wear that itchy old thing again, it makes his neck irritated every time.

"Why do we have to go through all this when it’s already been decided”

“Ceremony” His mom replies; dodging his question just as she pours a cup of water. Paul hums as he thanks his mother for it, waiting for her to slide it to him, although Jessica only reaches for hers before sternly looking back at the boy. “If you want it” she starts “Make me give it to you” she pauses for a few seconds to drink her cup and put it down.

“Use the voice”

“Mom, I just woke up” He shakes his head, his eyes still slightly puffy from a good night’s sleep, he looks at his mom thinking she was joking but was only met by Jessica’s stoic face, he inwardly sighs as he concentrates glaring at the glass. “Give me the water” 

Jessica almost laughed at her son, she remembered her apprentice days at the Bene Gesserit when the sisters would always be so frustrated in teaching her the voice as she is now with Paul.

“The glass can’t hear you, dear. Command me” She pulled a tight lipped smile while Paul gripped his spoon and fork in exasperation, he sighs heavily as he tries again, but this time, intently looking at his mother’s eyes so he could finish and just eat peacefully. He stares daggers into his moms direction as he hears the melodic sound of the chimes behind him or the painting of his grandfather who he felt like was looking at his grandson. Momentarily, he remembers you, who’s probably still sleeping soundly like a pig after the feast last night. He doesn’t understand why his father lets you eat with them at the dinner table, like, you're not family or anything, you're. just. an. apprentice, an apprentice of his mother nothing more nothing less, so why do you act like you're welcome to just ransack their home, eat their food, sleep in their beds, eat with them, train with them, and God knows what else.

“Give me the water”

Jessica’s eyes flickered briefly, she slowly held the cup, dragging it to Paul when she abruptly snapped from her illusion, her eyes blinking from the water to Paul before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Almost” She added whilst just pushing the water manually to him. “Almost?”

“Bene Gesserit skills takes years to learn, Paul”

“Mm-hmm”

“You look tired,” she hinted. “More dreams?”

“No,” Paul paused, shaking his head, his eyes flickering to his spoonful of food, his mind briefly flashing the girl in his dreams, face blurred and unseen, he still recalled how much his fingers itched to reach out to her, to see her hood fall down and finally see the face that’s been hiding from him. “How’s she doing?” He quickly shook the mysterious girl in his mind and changed the subject.

“Hm who?”

“You know who I’m talking about mom” He quipped  “Mhm, she’s fine since you asked so nicely”

“Mom–” He sucked in a breath. “I meant, how’s her lessons going” Jessica quirked an eyebrow, she knows her son hated her apprentice ever since she brought her in, a little uncomfortable at first because of the tension between the two, but she and Leto managed, it was like having another child but the other didn’t need that much affection, Paul would always ask her about her lessons, what they’re studying on, or if she has used the voice yet.

“She’s good. although–” she paused. “Why are you always asking about her?” paul halted, still holding his spoon mid-air, he half expected his mom telling him how she was behind her studies, or how frustrating it was in teaching her the voice or how he was ahead of her, but then he also expected his mom getting suspicious of his questions about her, no wonder because he asks them almost everyday.

“Nothing at all, just –”

A pregnant pause fills the room. 

“Curious”

—

“Huh?"

You woke up minutes later, with saliva running down your neck, you glanced around your room whilst zoning out, after a few more minutes you decided that you needed to be productive early in the morning so you lifted up both your arms and gave them a good stretch, along with your legs. You sluggishly sat at the edge of your single bed and yawned, once again stretching your arms up, though when you sat up you didn't even want to stand anymore, so you sat there and started getting lost in your own world.

Your mind wanders back to your lessons, what will Jessica train you with today? You hoped it isn't about the use of the voice, you've grown tired of it already, everyday, every morning, every afternoon, every night you had to do it, it was voice here, voice there, voice everywhere, you wonder how could Paul deal with that tirelessly day after day.

Oh.

Paul. 

The first moon you were here he didn't like you, no, he hated you, he hated you so much that some of the staff in the castle had also grown to dislike you unjustified, I mean, who are they to just hate you and judge you without even speaking to you first? 

You tried weeks to get the others to like you, only some of the few broke their walls and began talking to you, most of the time your alone in the castle, and if you're not alone, your training with Jessica, only Jessica and Leto were very welcoming to you, Jessica told the people of the castle to treat you like you were one of them at the very start, but I guess only some got the memo, thought at least they don't physically hate you like throwing a punch like what people from your homeland would do if they disliked someone. 

People say you're sensitive for thinking like that, saying they don't hate you, it's just because you're new, no, it's been a year and they still treat  you the same, where's the honor in that? 

Your thoughts were snapped back when the sound of the door opens, you quickly dove under the pillows to seize a hold of your knife, and you can thank Jessica for that, she specially had it made for you to fit your fighting style, or whatever she was talking about, you're just thankful for the knife so you can use it for when you're in danger, which is now.

You slowly got up from your bed and silently made your way to the wall near the door, you hid behind it as your sweaty palms made your grip on your knife slightly loose, you frown as you blink incessantly from the stinging of your sweat dripping down your eye. After a few seconds the creaking of the door opening stopped, but you hear no footsteps on the other side, you wanted to take a peak but you can just hear Jessica’s voice in your head telling you she’ll kill you herself if you do it–  if you even do it.

All of a sudden your eyes spotted a figure beside you and you instantly got up and stabbed whoever it was when you were slammed to the wall with your hands held on either side of your head, you quickly clamped your eyes shut and simply awaited your impending demise.

1..

2..

3…

4..

5..

6..

“Huh?” you slowly open your other eye in confusion. 

“Slept that well huh?” You recognize that voice. You blinked your eyes open to a very, very close proximity Paul, his half-lidded eyes glaring at you like a hawk, you allow your eyes to travel down to his night blouse that must’ve been worn down over the years of wearing because it’s now drooping down giving you a pleasant view of his sculpted abs, you gulp nervously as silence fills the situation your in, you try to wiggle yourself out but Paul’s grip was too tight on you, especially when he has your legs stuck in between his, though, your eyes still remain on his abs and you just cannot take them off.

“Eyes are up here, bene gesserit”

“I am not a bene gesserit” 

“You will be”

“I will, but not yet”

“So I’ll call you bene gesserit yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“Abso-”

“Very well… bene gesserit”

“Absolutely not!”

“I–”

“You dare raise your voice at me?”

“no..”

“Speak up, bene gesserit”

“No,” you hesitated, ”my lord..” 

“Hm” he tilted his head closer to your face as you do your best to back away, his eyes travel down to your lips, nervous, you bit the inside of your cheek, although, you took this chance to study his face, he had a very defined jawline, like super sharp, his curls tickle your face as he looks up once again– slowly, he steps and turns away from you to exit the room, but before he could pass the door, he looks over his shoulder and adjusted his blouse.

“Mom informed me to tell you that you are required to join us later,” he paused, “ Wear ceremonial” 

And with that he heedlessly left the room with you speechless.

—

You gape in awe as the ship slowly landed unto the ground, you thought it might’ve looked like an egg for it was in the color of white and shaped like a circle, although it also looked menacing at the same time due to the fact that it was huge,  you glance at the heir beside you who was also staring at the ship, however, he didn’t seem surprised or amazed by it, you shrugged it off and resumed on gawking at the egg ship. 

After a few minutes, the door of the ship opened and revealed people, no, creatures? Who were wearing this egg-like helmet with white robes, even the owners looked like their ship, you thought, then came all the others who were wearing black, you were about to laugh at their choice of clothing when you made eye contact with a sister of the Bene Gesserit. She glared at you like you did something to her, it gave you chills and the hair behind your neck stood up, it felt like an eternity when she broke eye contact with you to focus on eying the Duke and Jessica. 

“By the grace of Shaddam IV of House Corrino, ascendent to the Golden Lion Throne of Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe,” he paused, “I stand before you as The Herald of the Change” and that was where you zoned out of the situation, you loathe those tedious introductions they always make when coming here, you had to stand and wait for them to finish their considerable length of speech just for it to be their titles and not be even the beginning of the main thing.

You once again glance at the still heir beside you who you couldn’t distinguish what he was thinking, some people are simple to read but Paul wasn’t, he keeps his thoughts to himself without exception.

“We are house Atreides.” He starts. “There is no call we do not answer, there is no faith that we betray, the Emperor asks us to bring peace to Arrakis”

You notice how Paul reacts to his father leading as a Duke, his usual stoic expression softens as he watches his father descending the stairs, intently observing his actions, whether it may be his words or the mannerisms he carries while facing such intimidating individuals.

You were snapped back to reality when you’re dragged down the platform aggressively by Jessica, who was fuming by the look on her face when she shushed you as you were about to ask her what was going on. Good thing everyone's eyes were all situated to the Duke who was stamping his seal on the contract.

“J-Jessica–” you stutter out as you stumble constantly upon trying to get up again and again, though Jessica doesn’t even flinch while she tightens her hold on your wrist even more. For what seems like an eternity of getting dragged around, Jessica finally releases your bruised wrist, although you were thrown in a room that looks more likely hers and the Duke’s, you stumble once again on your feet while rubbing your wrist to cease the domineering pain that’s slowly taking over.

“What did I explicitly warn you about the very moment I brought you here?”

“That- that I shouldn’t interact with my lor—” 

A harsh slap cuts your response short, you were apalled that you didn’t feel anything for a second, that was when everything came back to you and the pain hit right away, your hands tremble as you cup your right cheek, a tear sliding down the bright red spot on your face, your teeth clattering together whilst your lips quivering as to try stop incoming tears from falling—but you aren't capable of hiding that, your tears were falling nonstop like someone had just thrown water on your face.

“Then why?! “ You flinched as Jessica screamed in your face. “What do you mea–”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN" 

You tried to think of anything, anything you did that violated the rule but you've been doing good since the start of your life here, thought, you thought back to the one this morning, did she see it? If she did then why get mad now and not earlier? 

“ANSWER. ME”

"I didn't mean to! I didn't know you'd get this mad for just a simple thing!”

" Simple? SIMPLE?" she scoffs, massaging her forehead intensely. “I brought you here to teach you, and what I asked for was painless, it was comprehensible, and you just had to break it did you? You didn't listen to me”

"I wasn't the one who started it!"

“SILENC—”

"ENOUGH OF THIS!” Duke Leto came in haste, his chest heaves up and down from running in a long distance, you were grateful that he interrupted Jessica or you would've been incinerated alive and standing. You were so busy trying to think of a solution to the situation that you didn't notice Leto dragging you behind him, as if to hide you from her wrath, from the months you've been training with Jessica you've never seen her this angry, like ever, I mean sure, it's already been months struggling to perfect the use of the voice and every time, she's frustrated but shes never shown this much emotion to you in never.

“She is just a child, Jessica! Show some decency, What would anyone think of you for exploding on her like that for such a small mistake?!“

“Don't start with me Leto, we already talked about this”

"But not talked enough," he paused. “Go to your room child"

You didn't need to be reminded for the second time before you fled the scene, hastily rushing to your quarters before anyone sees you and grasps the whole situation and before you know it, it's now the whole universe’s business, though, when you were about to reach the hallway where your quarters are you passed by the one responsibleness you got yelled at— Paul, you were dumbfounded by how calm he was while reading a book, like the argument wasn't heard throughout the castle.

You wanted to confront him about everything, but you know your still in the heat of the moment and didn't want to unleash your anger on him amd get banished by both the Duke and Jessica, so you kept your mouth shut and headed to your room. 

—

"It's useless, we have to get rid of it, this is a taint in your honor, an illegitimate offspring" a man whispers, his face unknown and covered as he looks down to the sleeping newborn. "Give it a few hours, we'll kill the mother and all the servants who helped birth her, make sure there's no one left"

"Wake up child"

"wake up"

"hey, wake up"

"My lady, wake up"

You shot out of your bed whilst panting like you were just running a mile, you clutch your chest as you try and regain your breath,the sun wasn't up yet when you checked your window, after a few seconds of organizing yourself, the maid who woke you up came back with a small candle and rushed by your side.

"My lady," she bows. "Her Lady Jessica wishes to see you— urgently"

You were still disoriented from your slumber that you only heard 'urgently', so you quickly stood up from your bed and followed wherever she went.

You were about to ask her what was happening when she pushed you, gently, but strong enough to get you to a room where Jessica was in, her back turned to you as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Here she is, my lady" she bows. "Thank you Satyana. You may go"

You nervously fiddle with your fingers as Satyana shuts the doors, a long awkward silence filled the room because no one dared to make a sound.

"I—"

"My—"

"Oh don't, you can—"

"Please, go ahead."

"No, I–"

"I insist"

"uhm," you hesitated. "I-I didn't mean what I did, it just- just happened and I really thought it wasn't going to go against what you said because I really wasn't the one who started and I did my best to stop it but he just—"

"I understand," she stated, "And, my deepest apologies for exploding on you like that, It is entirely my fault for making such a small thing turn big and I'm held fully responsible if you feel any hatred towards me after what happened, but I accept what you feel and your judgement about me"

You were taken aback by her confession, you never ever imagined your mentor apologizing to you like this, wholeheartedly, she was supposed to be stern, fierce, scary, but here she is apologizing to her apprentice.

"I—", you paused. "I don't know what to say.."

"It's alright if you hate me now—"

"NO!", you yelled abruptly, covering your mouth as you realized you just shouted at your mentor. "I mean, no, I don't hate you, and, you don't have to apologize, it's me that should, I was the one who went against you and everything... " Your words die in your mouth as Jessica slowly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug, you hesitated if you were going to also wrap your arms around her but you decided neither, only placing it awkwardly on her back and tapping her gently.

"So, do you forgive me?" you paused for bit, contemplating for the proper answer. "I.. I forgive you"

You almost thought you could feel her smile as she continous to hug you, like a mother would to her child.

—

After last night you peacefully slept the remaining moonlight that was until Satyana once again woke you up, Lady Jessica wanted you to train with the old man today to freshen you up, a little break from using the voice and focus on physical. You thought about the first time he trained you the day after you arrived, he was very rough at first, he didn't trust you completely that the next day you were dead as daylight, you slept for the whole day with sores on your feet and hand from continously fighting, Lady Jessica took care of you, your legs were like jello when you tried to stand, your muscles were pulsing, you recall seing Paul silently judge you for being 'weak' as Gurney called you, but overtime, he softened up and treated you normally, though, your sessions with him are still rough, you adapted and surprisingly learned a lot.

The maids helped you with your training clothes, but you decided against it and only wore the pajamas you had, it was too early in the morning to wear such tight fitted outfit and you weren't in the mood to struggle in pulling it up your butt.

Though, you can ask Gurney to postpone it and just move it later afternoon. And so you did, still groggy from your slumber, you stood up and headed to the training room whilst rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms, you tried cracking your fingers like how the Duke Leto taught you although your still scared of breaking them so you didn't persist.

You finally arrived at the entrance of the training room, where you heard swords clanking? You gently peeked from the archway outside just in time to catch Paul's gaze already on you, you watch him exchange hits with Gurney as the sound of sheilds echoes around the room, what seemed like an eternity watching them fight, Paul misses his footing causing him to fall, hard on the floor while Gurney took the chance to pin him to the floor with his weapon.

"Ah, the slow blade penetrates the sheild"

"I fell"

"That's no excuse"

"But I fell"

"You're distracted"

Paul scoffs, throwing his weapon aside as he turns his sheild off, suddenly. Gurney turns his head to where you were, and you hastily whipped your head back and clutched your pajamas close to you. You waited for a few seconds but nothing happened, so you peeked again, slowly, you thought you were being sneaky because Gurney's back was still turned to you while cleaning his equipment, you internally thank the Gods he didn't see you so you won't have to train at all.

That was when you were tackled to the ground by none other than Paul, he pins your hands above your head and brings your legs between his, locking them together, you hear Gurney laughing and clapping in the background, clearly entertained, you gave the both of them a scowl and rolled your eyes the meanest you could, you tried to wiggle out of Paul's hold once again but once again, he doesn't budge, though his grip on you was more tighter than last time, you continue trying to remove him from you but nothing works, and you couldn't kick his balls because he's got your legs stuck, finally, you look up and glare at him but he was already looking down on you, like you were some toy he was playing with, you notice how perplexed and amused he was at the same time, you gulp nervously as his curly hair dips down and touches your face, not once he breaks his eye contact with you, while your there skittishly struggling to not make eye contact with him.

After all these months of him torturing you secretly everyday, you've never been infuriated with him until now, he's not just making you look weak, he's embarassing you infront of Gurney, who looked like he's having the time of his life watching the two of you riggle like worms on the ground.

He finishes his laugh-off and approaches the two with two swords in hand. "Since the both of you are already here, it would be a complete waste to not duel each other yeah?"

"Uh-huh" Paul lets you go to grab a sword, he swings it on his hand several times to warm it up, he was about to turn his sheild on when you took the chance to swing at him, he instantly defended his stance, blocking your attack, he clashes his sword to yours, causing your sheild to tremble.

"Come on laddy! Play fair!" Gurney hooted, whistling like he were in a gladiator arena, you huff and slammed your hand on the motor, turning your sheild off. "Now were talkin!"

Paul continously attacks you with no opening to get back at him, you wiped the sweat dripping down your cheek as he endlessly assualts you. "Come on girl your getting sluggish!"

You felt as though your lungs might burst, you were getting tired but one misstep could lead you to getting stabbed by him, he didn't look like he wanted to stop at anytime, at first you thought he was only hyper but he looks furious when you caught his eye for a moment. Your chest heaves up and down rapidly, you double stepped on your feet as your back slammed on the floor and you groaned in pain, clutching your head as you hear Gurney shouting in the corner.

Everything was blurry, your eyes wanted to close so bad but you fought against, your ears were ringing dreadfully as you felt yourself getting cross-eyed, your surroundings were all numb to you as the ringing in your ears gradually disappeared which you were grateful to because you had the time to calm yourself down and gain back your eyesight. You hurriedly got up from the ground and you see Gurney holding your head and rubbing the aching spot, you gently held his wrist as he asks a bunch of questions directed to you.

"Who told you to get rough huh lad? Look what you did to her"

"It's not my fault she slipped her foot and hit her head"

"Ugh, Gurney..I'm fine—"

Gurney sucks his teeth in annoyance as he helps you up. "Stop spitting nonsense kid, now get up so we can get you checked."

"No Gurney- it's no big deal—"

"Too bad kiddo," he grunts as he grips your arms to help you. "Now, our dear Paul here will help you get there"

"Huh?"

"What?!"

"You heard me, now go, before your mother sees her beloved student injured and you, grounded for the rest of your life"

Paul groans loudly, wanting you to see how much he despises the situation and you, why does he have to come with you, you injured yourself, not him, he saw it with his own eyes how you got distracted for a second and missed your step and fell down, why is he the one bearing the consequences when your the one at fault here? Talk about justice.

He was about to exit the room but Gurney pulled his blouse and threw him to your direction, he gestured your arm to Paul for him to take, though he didn't move an inch, so Gurney being Gurney, he pulled Paul's other arm to wrap around your waist to support your back, he snaked your right arms around Paul's neck and made him hold it steady for you to stand.

"I hate this"

"You've got no choice, you caused this, you finish it"

"But it wasn't even me—"

"Go"

Paul didn't bite back before Gurney's stern gaze, he drags you outside the training room and headed for the infirmary. You could feel Paul internally wishing he could throw off the balcony for God's sake, though Caladan was a cold country, the exercise from this morning made the two of you hot and sweating, so you're internally and externally burning whilst Paul's body heat melts with yours making matters worse.

"You're– so heavy—"He grunts, "You know that right?—"

You gritted your teeth irritation, "Thanks for reminding me"

An awkward pause filled the room after Paul didn't acknowledge you, you only contineud on limping while he keeps you upright, his grip on your waist gradually gets tighter and tighter the more you falter your steps, he grumbles on how you can't even walk properly despite it only being a small limp, saying how he can walk straight anyways even with a hole on his leg, you only cringed and rolled your eyes at the boy. Although, deep down inside, your getting butterflies everywhere, day one you would've gone into coma if she knew you were in this situation with Paul, I mean you are getting butterflies now, but at the same time you hated his guts from top to bottom.

—

"The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam is here." She hesitates, "She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school, she's now truthsayer to the Emperor himself—"

Jessica nervously fiddles with her fingers as her son awaits her response. "She would like to meet you"

"Why?"

She looks down to her trembling hands. "She wants to know about your dreams."

"How does she know about me dreams?"

Paul looks to her for clarification, but was met with no answer, he gets slightly irritated by the thought of someone very close to him snitching, though, he couldn't pin point who because there was three of them, but he knows in the back of his mind who this person is.

"And why is Dr. Yueh here?" Jessica can't bear to see her son like this, to see him worry and panic for the unknown, she wanted to hug him and tell him everything is going to be fine, but also as a Bene Gesserit, she wouldn't— couldn't.

"He only needs a moment"

"Hello, young master" Paul catiously turns his head to the doctor, lifting his chin up, careful not to show his disappointment. "Your mother asked me to check your vitals"

Paul hesitates for a moment as Dr. Yueh held his head and slowly worked his way through it. "What's happening?"

"The Bene Gesserit say they serve the greater good..." he pauses, "But, meaning no disrespect to your lady mother and her student— they also serve their own designs."

"What are you saying?"

Dr. Yueh ignores him and gently squeezed his shoulder, "Go carefully"

"His heart is strong as ever, my lady"

Jessica gestured a language to dr. Yueh as he nods and leaves the room while Paul can only look at his mother pitifully. His head is so full of questions that he feel it might explode in any second, his mother gestures him to follow her as she covers her trembling hands with her sleeves, her chest heaves up and down nervously for her son, they were about to reach a big black door when Jessica hurriedly turns and faces her son, she reaches out for his face and cradles it in her hands, like how she was when he was a little boy.

'remember your training'

She puts her hood on as she enters the room anxiously with Paul following behind her. Paul glares at the figure sitting inside the library.

who. are. you

The figure whispers through the air, Paul glowers at it, hiding slightly behind his mother, he thought about those widowed women he read in that one book, who wears all black and a veil to signify that their husband was dead and their mourning, but the figure's veil was so high up her head she looks like some—

"Defiance in the eyes," she pauses, "Like his father"

"Leave us."

Jessica nervously looks at her beloved son, her trembling fingers holding his shoulders, whispering to him before hurriedly leaving "You must do everything the Reverend Mother tells you"

"You dismiss my mother in her own house" Paul glares back to the 'Reverend Mother' as if to show he wasn't scared of her and how insulted he was when she ordered his mother to leave, at her very own household, oh how the Bene Gesserit think of themselves highly, he thought, clenching his fists in anger.

"Come here. Kneel"

Before Paul knows what was happening, he was already kneeling down infront of the Reverend, his eyes blinking in bewilderment, she used the voice so easily like it was a normal thing for her to. "How dare you use the Voice on me"

The Reverend didn't answer, only observing Paul as he continous on glaring at her, her eyes falters in a millisecond before she moves her hand revealing a black box.

"Put your right hand in the box" though Paul took his stand and only clenched his jaw, lifting his chin up.

The Reverend Mother only look at him before scolding him. "Your mother bade you obey me" He hesitates, biting the his cheek before shaking his head, he slowly slid his hand into the hole, sucking a breath in preparing to whatever was going to happen.

Suddenly, the reverend points a sharp needle into his neck. "I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar"

"A poison needle, instant death" she begins, "the test is simple"

"Remove your hand from the box, and you die"

"What's in the box?"

A few seconds pass before the reverend answers him.

"Pain"

"I— "

"No need to call the guards" she pauses, "A Bene Gesserit stands behind that door, no one would get past her"

"Why are you doing this?"

"An animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape." she halts, lifting her head up. "What will you do?"

Paul looks from the needle to the box, seemingly trying to think of some plan to get out, he wanted to laugh at that moment, when he felt tingling in his fingers and pulled his lips together hard. How could this be a test? He pondered. The tingle turned into an itch.

The itch became a slight burning. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded.

Paul clenches his hand as the slight burning feeling increased, his lips quiver as he tries not to show weakness, he felt needles pricking his palms and eventually his fingers.

His arm throbbed with pain. Sweat was clearly visible on his brow. Pulling the hand away from the flaming pit was the sound of every fiber screaming, however... the gom jabbar. He attempted to move his eyes to view that awful needle resting next to his neck, but he was unable to do so. He attempted to decrease his breathing but was incapable after realizing he was gasping for air, he screams in anguish as he felt his muscles getting ripped from nerve to nerve.

Then suddenly, like a switch, the pain disappeared, and the door behind them opens.

—

Meanwhile Jessica was tasked to fetch you after she delivered Paul to the Reverend Mother, she hurriedly proceeded to your room where you were peacefully sleeping, your room was big, but not as big as the Astreides', she had you decide what you wanted to do with it because she was used to taking care of a boy she wasn't aware what to pick or use for a girl.

She gently pused aside the curtains that cover your bed, they were the first thing you wanted to add to your room because you saw it in one of those libraries where they would put curtains over their beds and sometimes even lights, they looked immaculate, but you decided on the curtains only because you were too scared they'd find you spoiled and kick you out and you'll go back to the school.

"Hey.."

She nudges you awake.

"Wake up"

"Huh?" you squint at the harsh light hitting you. "Come with me."

You were about to question it but you see Jessica nervously mumbling and fiddling her fingers that's when you realized it was serious, she brings her hood up and she gestures you to keep quiet, she leads you to a dark hallway and you felt compacted the more you drew near wherever she was leading you, your mind fills with countless questions of what was happening, what's got The Bene Gesserit Jessica so scared and nervous, you frown as her walk increases, she sucks in a breath and abruptly stops in front of a big door, she looks at you pitilly like she was about to say something, her longing eyes searching yours for something, and you return her look, tyring to find reassurance with her, but she only gulped and whispered some unknown words into your ears.

"Don't be nervous, child, for he'll be there"

You heard the fear in her voice, and despite her best trying to soothe you, it made you even scared.

She held your lower back and nods as you slowly but surely unlocked the door, then immediately, not even halfway in turning the handle, you flinch as you were met by Paul's agonizing scream, his mother, who was already suffering in silence, gasps in distress in hearing his son be racked in pain, you pushed through the door and see Paul's teary eyes staring at you, you swear you saw some relief in his gaze in contrast to the Reverend Mother who was staring at you like you did something to her.

You bow to the Reverend, addressing her before lifting your head and hiding your fidgeting hands from her.

"You called for me?"

Paul stands up immediately when the reverend pulls the Gom Jabbar away from his neck, dusting his attire as he backs up slowly.

"Come child"

And as Paul was earlier, and in a blink of an eye your feet carried you unconciously to the Reverend Mother, your eyes flutter in bemusement as Paul paid you no mind and remained glaring at the Reverend.

"Have you been training?" she asked. "I have- Lady Jessica has been generous in teaching me your ways despite not being in the school"

"Show me"

"What?"

"Show. Me" she halts, raising her head to observe you more carefully. "If you what you say is indeed true— then, show me what you've gained."

"Use the voice"

"I have learned various other talents, not only the voice, I am useful in everyway you can see— "

"So use it, use the voice, child"

You attempt to call Paul for aid since he has already used the voice despite failing, but in any event he did but you were helpless, you were about to admit that you didn't know when Paul suddenly spoke up.

"I can"

"I only asked of her"

"But wouldn't you want to see mine, the son of the Duke and Lady Jessica" any other person would've thought he was brave, but all you could see was how he nervously gulped and the sweat running down his face, he clenches his jaw as he hears the worry in your voice as you whisper his name.

"Hm" She hummed and looked towards the door, "Jessica!"

Jessica almost busted the door open as she stood there emotionless, all her worry vanished when she set her eyes on her unharmed and alive son, she managed a faint smile.

"Now," she began, "Tell me about these dreams"

"I had one tonight"

"What did you see?" she immdediately responded. "A girl."

"On Arrakis"

"Have you dreamt of her before?" Paul hesitated, meekly glancing to the ground then to the girl beside him. "Many times"

"Do you often dream things that happen just as you dream them?"

"Not exactly"

A pregnant silence fills the dark eerie room, despite it being comfortable in the morning, it looked a lot scarier now that it was unlit and pitch black. You peak at the reverend who was still observing the certain heir.

After a few moments she stood up, ready to depart. "Goodbye young humans."

"I hope you live"

And thus, you watch the Jessica accompany the Reverend Mother outside, your gaze remained on them until the door shuts close.

"Are you—"

"Leave me alone" He slaps your hand away as he stomps outside in a hurry, you didn't think much of it since he has gone through much for just one night, his pained scream still haunts your mind despite only just happening moments ago, you clench your fists as youlet out a breath you didn't know you were holding until now.

You hesitated to follow after him or to just go back to your quarters.

You came after him.

—

"Did you have to go that far"

"You chose to train him in the Way, in defiance of our rule," she berated, "He weilds our power. He had to be tested to the limits"

"So much potential, wasted in a male"

"And there's the girl, I gave her to you so you could train her like a daughter you never bore, and for me to learn that she hasn't even grasped anything about the Voice? Oh you disappoint me Jessica"

"You were told to bear only daughters, but you, in your pride, thought you could produce the Kwisatz Haderach." She criticized. "Was I wrong?"

"Your lucky he didn't die in that room" the reverend abruptly faces Jessica. "If he is the One, he has a long way to go"

"His sight is barely awakened and now he goes his hero complex and decides he could bite back and protect that stupid girl I brought you, such stubborness from his father"

"But our plans are measured in centuries, we have other propects— If he fails his promise"

"Do you see so little hope?"

"On Arrakis, we have done all we can for you, a path has been laid, let's hope he doesn't squander it" Jessica grips her hood and skirts as the ship ascends the dark skies, her lips quiver as she thought about her son, who has yet found his way, and to her student, who day by day is becoming closer to Paul.

She hugs her clothes as she turns around to come back when she was met by Paul's figure, stiffly standing behind the thick fog.

"Paul"

"What does it mean?" she removes her hood down. "That I could be the One?"

You watched him for a few moments, his chest rising slowly and falling again. There was something so overwhelming about watching him just exist.

Watching him grow up as your best friend had never been like this. You’d only grown in feelings for Paul when he was sent to Arakkis before you. The loss of not having him near all the time was horrible, and when reunited Paul made that clear to you by kissing you as more than a best friend.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly so not to disturb him, before getting ready to go outside to greet the waking sun.

No one else on camp was awake.

You were away from Worm territory and clear of any Harkonnen’s for now.

Trudging up the steep sand bank, you crested to the top and was greeted by the expanse lands of the dunes.

Nothing for miles. Far as your eyes could see, there was nothing but peaks and troughs of mountainous dunes.

You sat down carefully, watching some sand slide down the dune beside you.

Opening the small piece if dirtied white - now grey - cloth in your hand you found your small locket. The circular shaped pendant necklace opened to the treasure inside - a small picture of your parents on their wedding day.

You gulped back the phantom stone in the back of your throat and squeezed the pendant in your hand tightly.

“I miss you.” You whispered to the desert.

Silence returned.

“You would never guess where I am now!” You laughed to yourself, wiping your tears away quickly with the back of your hand.

It was advised to never cry in the desert, lest you want to lose all your bodies water reserves.

You blew out a big breath, trying to remind calm. “Could do with a nightmare of a family dinner right now.”

‘Nightmare’ because there would always be an argument of some sort about what you were going to have. It was never actually a nightmare, you just liked to refer to them as that.

Soft footsteps could be heard behind you, climbing the dune not so subtly. Although, you suspected they wanted you to hear them so you knew someone was coming.

Only when he sat next to you, did you realise it was Paul.

He sat tight beside you, not leaving much room.

He looked out towards the vast landscape and said nothing. He was good at knowing when or it you wanted him to speak, or when you just wanted the company.

For now, company was all you needed.

He softly slunk his calloused hand into yours, interlinking your fingers and squeezing to show you he was there for you.

He knew what this day was to you.

“I don’t want to be weak when I think about them anymore.” You whispered, hoping Paul would understand.

“It’s not weak to miss them, Y/N.”

“I feel it.” You dipped your head, opening your other hand to reveal the pendant.

“Love isn’t a weakness. That’s what you feel; love. You’re loving them even after they’ve gone.” He explained in a way a true leader could only.

“That was a very wise thing to have come from you.” You turned to look at him and he was already smiling at you, both of your glowing in the morning sun now.

“Love has made me wise.”

He looked at your lips. You looked from his eyes to his own.

“Then you would know, love isn’t wise at all.” You responded with something Lady Jessica had told him when he had declared that you were together.

Literally, declared in front of a whole camp of Fremens. It was simultaneously both the most embarrassing and happiest moment you’d felt on this planet.

Paul decided to shut you up by kissing you, not too harshly otherwise you’d both go falling off the top of the dunes - which, yes, had happened before.

He cupped your cheek softly and kissed just as much. His lips were warm with the wake of the sun and your insides started to glow just as brightly.

Love.

“You make me feel less weak.” You pulled back to tell him, whispering the words only a breaths touch away from his lips.

“That’s because you love me.” He teased, kissing you with a smile.

You pushed his shoulder ever-so-lightly, to get him back for the teasing.

“Do you not?” He questioned, pretending to be offended. He touched your cheek furthest from him and tugged it so you would face him again. “Hmm?”

“You’re so dependent on what my feelings are for you?”

“Yes.”

The light conversations between you never failed to outshine any dark moments you way be having.

“That makes you a weak man. Maybe you aren’t Lisan Al-Gaib after all.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

“Maybe. Love still doesn’t make me a weak man though and it doesn’t make you weak either.” He kissed the tip of your nose softly.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him.

“They’re still there, watching over you.” He nodded to the sky where the last of the stars were twinkling still. Soon they’d be gone and the sky would be lit in cerulean blue.

“I know.”

“And they’re here too.” He touched over your heart and then over his. Your parents had been as close to him as his own father, so he knows what the loss feels like even after all this time.

He now knows the kind of whole a loved one can leave on your heart. It’s learning to know not how to re-fill it, but live with it that’s the difficult part.

He was learning how to do that from you, just as you learnt from him.

You kissed him again, just because you needed to let him know that you appreciated him - more than words could ever explain.

Paul gave you a small smile when be broke away from your lips quietly.

“I love you. To forever.”

For the first time since you landed on Caladan, the rain has finally stopped. And for the first time since you arrived, you are completely alone with him. Your husband. You haven’t spoken more than two words to him; you’ve been nothing but frightened for the last week, afraid of your new life on this new planet. You know you are going to have to accept this new life because you have no other choice. The other thing you are going to have to accept is him. 

Paul Atreides. 

You watch as he kneels before a delicate blossom, eyes fixed upon the intricate folds and hues of its magenta petals. His once sharp features have softened, the angles smoothed into an expression of wonder and reverence. You’ve seen this look of his before but can’t seem to place it. His slender fingers reach out and touch the velvety surface of the flower as if he were under its spell. His dark hair, wild and unkept, falls in loose waves around his face. 

While you can’t help but notice how breathtakingly handsome Paul is, it’s not his looks that initially drew you in, but rather it is his quiet intensity that captivated your attention. He turns and his green orbs take a quick scan of you. His eyes have always held a depth of knowledge and experience far beyond his years, and even now as he observes you, he knows something you don’t. 

“The flowers on Caladan are a wonder to behold,” He says tepidly, almost as if he’s afraid of scaring you away. He knows you’ve been on edge the last few days, practically jumping out of your skin every time he speaks to you. He straightens, his lean frame moving gracefully as he strides toward you. “Each one is so unique, with its own fragrance and beauty. Some are delicate and sweet, like the jasmine that grows near the waterfalls, while others are bold and robust, like the wild roses that climb the cliffs.” 

You are frozen in place, knees trembling beneath your skirt. Paul stops when he is in front of you, his body mere inches away. Those eyes of his, perfectly green like the forest that surrounds the two of you, sparkle with reverence. He’s been in disbelief at how strikingly beautiful you are and how you don’t even realize it. The thought of you not knowing your strength or beauty brings a sadness to him that he can’t shake; it brings forth a determination to help you see and understand your true worth.

Gently, he raises his hand and touches a finger to your temple, sweeping away a piece of black hair. Underneath the light, the strands of hair shimmer with a blue hue.  He moves his attention back to your face, “Caladan didn’t have daisies until you,” 

When it comes to you, Paul can’t help but be tender. He knows you’ve been through so much. He sees the turmoil etched upon your face; Paul is afraid your sadness and fright will be permanent, and he does not want to go forward if you are intimidated by him. The corners of his lips pull down, shaking as he confronts you, “I… I know that you are scared of me, Daisy,”

Your throat tightens. You aren’t scared of Paul but rather, you are scared of what lies ahead in your future with him. He’s the son of Duke Leto Atreides; Paul has responsibilities that you never dreamed of. Folding your arms around your body, you swallow dryly and think of what to say with careful consideration because you can tell that Paul is growing frustrated with your lack of reciprocity.

“My lord,” The way you regard him by his formal title makes his chest constrict. He does not want such formalities when it’s just the two of you but he bites back the urge to correct you. He impatiently awaits the rest of your words. Your eyes cast downward, afraid to look him in the eye as you confess, “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of the responsibilities that come with being your wife. I do not want to burden House Atreides.”

Concern floods Paul’s face and he is quick to shake his head. His brow knits together and he rushes to speak, the words tumbling out before he can think about what he’s saying, “Daisy, you need to understand that I didn’t choose this life either -”

He stops and inhales deeply to calm himself. Paul takes a step closer and the gap between your bodies narrows. Immediately, you can’t help but notice how his scent is a tantalizing combination of rain and a woody floral. It makes you think of safety. Paul drops his voice to a whisper, “I have responsibilities to House Atreides that I can’t simply ignore. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or that I won’t do everything in my power to protect you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” Your voice shakes with emotion. This isn’t how you address nobility but damn Paul’s title. His status brings forth an apprehension that claws inside your already rattled heart. You have known each other for less than ten days and yet here he is, declaring protection with everything he has. However, despite his best effort you still feel like a burden. He’s too young to feel like this - he has his entire life ahead of him and now? He has a wife to take care of. Your eyes snap up and you breathe out, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, any of this…”

Paul studies your face, sensing your doubts and your burdens. Your eyes remain clouded with fear and melancholy. Oh, how Paul yearns to alleviate your concerns and set your mind at ease, but he feels helpless in doing so. His father never taught him how to be a loving husband; Paul is only schooled in politics and the responsibilities of a Duke. Navigating the complexity of matrimony has never been part of his training.

“I understand that this might be difficult for you to understand,” He cups your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb. Paul realizes this is the most affectionate he’s ever been with someone and it breaks his heart knowing this is the first time you are on the receiving end. He silently vows to give you all the love he has. As he speaks, warmth radiates off his words, “You are not a burden, and you will never be a burden to me because we are in this together, Daisy. You are my family now. I promise we will figure this out, together.”

Tears swell in your eyes, “I’m sorry, m’lord -”

“Daisy,” He sharply cuts you off, “You don’t have to apologize - none of this is your fault, okay?”

Paul leans his forehead against yours, “We are a team now. You are my wife and I will do everything I can to protect you.”

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Paul is quick to wipe them away and much to your surprise, he kisses each of your eyelids. Your hands cling to his waist, suddenly desperate to keep him close. Paul notices the change and feels your urgency as if you are afraid of him slipping away. He responds by planting butterfly kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. More tears crash down and Paul sweeps them away. You can’t help but giggle at the valiant effort that your husband is making to make you feel better. 

The sound of your giggle makes Paul giddy and it causes his stomach to flip. He’s never felt like this before. His lips stretch into a smile as he continues to assault your beautiful face with endless amounts of affection. Paul stops for a brief moment, pulling away to see how your face has brightened. You look like sunshine now and it leaves him breathless.

Your eyes flutter open, wanting to see why your husband has stopped. Paul is peering at you with so much love and admiration that it makes your breath hitch inside your chest. You have never felt so safe and so adored. A look flickers across his verdant eyes and before you can say anything, Paul captures your lips with his.

Technically, this is not the first time he has kissed you but this kiss is exceptionally better than the one you were forced to share at the ceremony. This kiss felt natural and it felt right. There is a certain innocence to how he is applying soft pressure against your lips. Almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you. You want more, no, you need more. You can’t get enough and truth be told, neither can Paul. A desire ignites inside him and his stomach coils as something stirs inside his pants -

“Paul!”

The interruption causes you to jump but for Paul, the interruption of Gurney Halleck angers him. You are blushing at being caught in a compromising position, hiding your face against Paul’s chest as the future Duke turns to the weapon teacher. Annoyed, Paul scowls at the smirk on Gurney’s face. Gurney didn’t think Paul had it in him because truthfully, Gurney didn’t support the arranged marriage; he had his own misgivings and predictions about you. But upon seeing this revelation, Gurney’s opinion swiftly changed.

“My apologies for the interruption,” Gurney clears his throat, “My lord, may I remind you that your weapon’s master doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”

Paul glares at Gurney before turning his attention back to you, his face softening into that of a lovesick puppy. Your face is still pressing into his chest. Gently, he lifts your head and sweetly kisses your cheek, murmuring, “I will see you later, okay?”

Unwillingly, Paul tears himself away from you and stalks toward Gurney who is patiently waiting by the edge of the garden. Gurney, having known Paul since he was a wee little one, chuckles at the bulge in the young master’s pants. When Paul is close enough, Gurney leans over and mutters, “May I suggest a cold shower before training?” 

Paul’s face turns bright red upon realizing what Gurney is talking about.

Throughout weapon training, Paul is distracted. His thoughts are consumed by you. Gurney notices and finds himself pushing the young boy harder, and harder. Paul mustn’t give in to thoughts of temptation. Gurney barks order after order, hitting Paul over and over until the boy is on the ground, huffing and puffing, sweat pouring down his face. 

A look of determination etches upon Paul’s face as he lifts himself from the ground, swinging his blade around and glaring at Gurney. Paul is about to lunge at his weapon’s trainer but Gurney makes the quick decision to draw the session to a close because it’s clear, they won’t get much farther than this. 

“Paul,” Gurney orders, raising his hand for the boy to halt, “That’s enough for today,”

“I’m not done yet,” Paul hisses, clutching the handle of his blade. He eyes as Gurney walks over to the table of weapons and begins to clean them, buffing the blade until it shines.

“Your skills are improving Paul,” Gurney says gruffly, “But there’s something else you need to learn if you want to be a good husband,” 

Paul looks at Gurney with a quizzical look, unsure of how being a husband has anything to do with a training session. The young master huffs, “What are you talking about, Gurney?” 

“What I mean, boy, is that being a good husband takes more than just sword skills,” Gurney replies, his tone serious. “You need to have control over your thoughts.”

Paul blushes, had it really been that obvious? He sheepishly admits, “I… I guess I was a bit distracted...”

“A bit?” Gurney guffaws, throwing his head back. Paul’s naivety is something else. He presses, “You spent two hours thinking of your wife - this type of distraction is unacceptable, young master Paul. What are you going to do when an enemy has overpowered you?”

“I have my shield -” Gurney is swift to penetrate the forcefield of an unsuspecting Paul. The defence shield vibrates at the intrusion causing Paul to stumble, his green eyes snap to his waist where the blade is hovering above his sweat-soaked shirt. Paul lets out a sigh of frustration, feeling like he has not only let himself down but Gurney as well.

Gurney scorns, “How many times have I told you? The defence shield is only -”

“As good as the person wielding the sword,” Paul finishes Gurney’s sentence. Gurney ignores Paul and continues with his speech, “Even the most powerful shield can be breached by a skilled warrior and no matter how advanced or sophisticated your shield technology is, if you can’t properly use your sword, you are vulnerable to an attack.”

Gurney sheathed his blade, eyeing Paul who looks defeated. Gurney lets out a exhale, “Paul, marriage is a lot like weapon training. You have to be willing to put in the work, to learn and grow together, and to be there for each other through thick and thin.”

Paul turns off his defence shield and runs his finger along the edge of the blade, fascinated by the vulnerability - one wrong move and he could cut himself, and bleed to death. Suddenly, the weight of being a husband falls on his shoulders and he thinks about the promise he made to protect you. He's liable for another person now and he wonders if he's even ready for the responsibility of having a wife. The young master mutters, “What happens if I can’t keep my promise of protecting her?”

Gurney furrows his brow and gives Paul a stern look, “Then you’ll have failed not only her, but yourself as well,” he says firmly, “A true warrior doesn’t waste time worrying about the what-ifs. Instead, focus on the task at hand and what you can do to prevent it. Train harder, study your enemy, and always be one step ahead. The best way to protect her is to be prepared for anything that comes your way and that means forcing yourself not to think frivolous thoughts about her,”

Paul grimly nods but Gurney sees the young boy hasn’t been convinced yet. Gurney feels for him; this is new territory and Paul has yet to find the best way to navigate it. Gurney continues, “As for your wife, you cannot be with her every moment of the day, but you can teach her to be just as skilled with the sword as you are.” 

Paul hurries down the corridor of his family's castle, trying to get back to you as soon as possible. He is so excited to see your face that his stomach is churning with anticipation. He wants to hold you, touch you, kiss you. You are all he’s been thinking about and he is so close to seeing you again. Paul accelerates around the corner and nearly collides with his father, Duke Leto Atreides. Paul is caught off guard and he stumbles back.

Duke Leto regards his son with a knowing look as if he had been waiting for Paul. Leto watches as Paul straightens himself out, smoothing and adjusting the black tunic with the House of Atreides symbol on his chest. Paul suddenly feels nervous being in the presence of his father, he’s unsure of what to say or do. Paul waits for instruction. 

“Paul,” His father nods. Leto knew that Paul would be in this area of the castle because Gurney had already informed him. In fact, Gurney had also informed the Duke of the kiss that the young master and his lady shared in the garden - Gurney said it wasn’t just any kiss either. It was the kiss; the type of kiss that would’ve certainly led to something more had it not been for Paul’s strict training schedule. 

Leto is amused by his son’s red face which is impatient and restless. The Duke knows that Paul will not disobey his orders and decides his teachings in matrimony couldn't have come at a better time. He offers a smile to Paul, “Relax, son - Gurney told me you’d be here,” 

Paul clears his throat and nods, “Yes, my lord - can I help you with anything?” Paul is dreading the answer and finds himself becoming resentful toward the Duke because now, Paul has been delayed from seeing you. When the Duke gives a curt nod, Paul’s stomach drops - why did he have to be such a fool and ask such a question? 

“Yes, Paul. There is something you could help me with,” the Duke motions for Paul to follow him down the corridor of their castle. As they walk through the dimly lit castle, the glowglobes above them illuminate the towering walls made of rough-hewn gray stone. The Duke’s footsteps reverberate through the long, empty hall, echoing off the walls and filling the silent space. 

Leto thinks about how small Paul used to be and how it seems like it was only yesterday that Paul was running around the castle and playing pretend with all of his imaginary friends. He has grown into a tall, handsome young man but despite all of his training and teachings, Paul still has yet to master his stoicism. Leto notes how Paul's lips are pursed with muted animosity - his son is annoyed with him. The Duke is amused by this; he knows he is yet another barrier keeping Paul from his new wife.

As the Duke regards his son, he realizes that Gurney is right. Paul is completely smitten by you and those verdant eyes of his are pooled with so much love that it spills out. His infatuation with you is written across Paul's face. This is a side of his son that he has never seen before. It pleases him because originally, Leto was resistant to the arranged marriage brought on by the Padishah Emperor who insisted that Paul take one of his daughters from House Corrino.

The Duke knows that this type of look on royalty is frowned upon and that it may be seen as a weakness. But Leto cannot help but feel proud of his son for allowing himself to feel and express intense emotions. In a world where political alliances rule, it is a rare and precious thing to see someone unabashedly show love and affection. Leto thinks of his own reasons for not marrying his concubine, Lady Jessica, and does not wish for Paul to be burdened with the same regrets.

With a sense of determination, the Duke decides to do everything in his power to help Paul build a strong and loving relationship with you. Leto refrains from chastising his son about his open display of affection because he realizes that Paul needs guidance on other matters; matters attaining to the bedroom.

He knows Paul has received the talk about procreation but Leto is about to give his son advice on proper lovemaking. It's a topic he was unwilling to breach but Lady Jessica was insistent that it happens tonight as it's obvious the newlyweds will be consummating the marriage sooner than later; she gave her own advice to you earlier and now, it is the Duke's turn.

He takes a deep breath, carefully selecting his words. He doesn't want to scare Paul and begins imparting his knowledge with a casual statement, “Gurney informed me of your training session,” He pauses when he realizes that Paul isn't paying attention to him. However, the Duke presses on, “Paul, you’re a husband now. You have a wife - a beautiful wife -” 

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Paul interjects rather dreamily as a dazed look crosses his eyes. There he goes again, letting his love spill out. Leto realizes that he'll have to remind Paul about the importance of keeping his emotions in check but for now, it could wait.

"Yes, she is. And now that you're a husband, there are certain things you must do and certain things you must not do," Leto stops and turns to his son, watching as Paul's expression changes to that of confusion. "You are responsible for her happiness, her sadness - your actions will directly affect her well-being."

Paul slowly nods, taking in his father's words. Leto cocks his head to the side, asking, "Son, do you know how to keep your wife happy?"

The young master shakes his head and casts his gaze downward - no, he doesn't know how to keep you happy. And it's been plaguing him all day. It's what kept him distracted during weapon training. But when his father speaks again, it's not the type of advice he was expecting to hear: "Listen very carefully, Paul. I’m going to tell you the secret to keeping your wife happy -" 

Leto glances around, making sure that they were alone and just for added measure, he lowers his voice, “You’re going to kiss her lips, kiss her until you can’t breathe. And your hands, they’re going to touch her. Everywhere. Slowly at first, but with purpose...” 

Paul's face grows hot with discomfort and simply put, he's dumbfounded by these instructions; it takes him a minute to realize that his father is giving advice on foreplay. His cheeks burn crimson. He's hesitant, feeling like a fool for asking such a silly question, “How do I know if she likes it?”

"Oh, you'll know, son … you'll know," His father's eyes darken and it startles Paul. His father inches closer, his voice dropping to an even lower octave, “Your fingers and tongue are tools, they will aid you in making your wife happy."

This advice is the limit of the boundary Leto is willing to cross. He's unwilling to give any more as it is up to his son to learn that not every woman is the same and that what Lady Jessica likes might not be what Lady Daisy likes. Leto also doesn't want to scar his son with his own prowess because what he and Jessica do in their bedroom is none of Paul's business.

But of course, Paul can't help but wonder how his father knows such things and it quickly dawns on the young master that the Duke does these things with Paul’s mother - is this the reason for their happiness? The thought makes him feel uneasy and strange. He never thought sex could have such a profound effect on a relationship but it makes sense. Paul suddenly understands the gravity of his father's advice and the complexity it will bring to his own marriage; ultimately, Paul is frightened yet intrigued by the idea that his tongue and fingers will help him in the pursuit of your happiness.

Paul's brows knit together and he gazes down at his fingers, watching as he repetitively curls and uncurls them. He clarifies, "I can... I use them... on her?"

"Yes, Paul. Use them on your wife - and remember to listen to her. Nonverbal cues are still cues, her sighs and moans will tell you everything you need to know," His father sees Paul struggling to hold back the utter panic and he feels for the young boy who is about to become a man. Leto remembers feeling the same way when it came to bedding Lady Jessica for the first time. He places a reassuring hand on Paul's shoulder and adds: "The most important part is consent, Paul … remember, you have an entire lifetime to spend with her. Don't feel like you need to rush through it all tonight."

Paul nods, his throat tight and dry. The prospect of seeing you makes him anxious, and despite knowing that he desires you with every fibre of his being, he can’t shake off the uneasiness of being a disappointment. What if he can’t please you? What if he can’t perform? Will this make you love him less?

“Breathe, son. Breathe.” The Duke pats his son's shoulder and gives an encouraging smile, “You’ll do fine, Paul. I’ll see that a change is made for your weapon training session tomorrow and I’ll make sure that Gurney Halleck doesn’t bother the happy couple.” 

“Have a nice evening son, and be safe,” with that, Duke Leto Atreides departs, leaving Paul alone in the corridor to ponder on what lies ahead of him tonight.

The young master leans against the cool stone and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady himself. The weight of responsibility and expectations from both his father and his new wife weighs heavily on his conscience. Paul has to remind himself that he loves you and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. 

The sound of the bedroom door opening startles you. Quickly, you stand. Hands trembling as they smooth out the cream-coloured negligee that adorns your body. It was a gift from Paul’s mother; she gave it to you earlier. It seems that gossip travels around the castle at an alarming rate because not even an hour after you and Paul were seen kissing in the garden, Lady Jessica was pulling you to the side for a little chat because she seems to think that tonight is the night that you finally consummate your marriage.

And she’s right because the moment Paul steps into the room, and closes the door behind him - locking it - you know exactly what is about to happen. Paul stands across from you, eyes blazing at the sight of you, drinking in your body. He’s wearing his usual black tunic. His wavy hair looks even more dishevelled than before. His cheeks are rosy. And once again, his eyes capture you and pull you into those pools of emerald. Every ounce of his love surrounds you and it spreads like wildfire across your body.

You can't believe that Paul Atreides is yours. He's so unbelievably handsome with his aquiline nose, his high-cheek bones, and his slender neck that tapers gracefully into his lean shoulders. He oozes noble lineage and the thought of providing Paul with an heir makes you giddy.

“My lord,” You finally speak. You give a curtsy, bowing your head in the process. Paul cringes; he hates when you call him by his formal title. He despises it. It makes his blood boil. He takes several long strides until he is standing in front of you. Paul places his fingers beneath your chin, lifting your head until your eyes meet his. 

For a moment, you look… frightened. But there’s something else hiding in those russet-coloured eyes of yours. Paul softens, he’s suddenly all too aware that he still has the remnants of distaste written across his face. “Daisy, please… when it’s just the two of us - Just you and me - call me Paul,”

It almost feels like treason disregarding his title but he doesn’t want such formalities with you. Never. Ever. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you nod, "Of course, my -"

You swallow his title and shakily breathe out, "Paul," his name sounds foreign as it leaves your lips. You feel … naughty calling him by his name. You don’t think you’ve ever regarded Paul as such, not even during your marriage vows did you call him just Paul. His name leaves your lips once more, “Paul,” 

The way you say his name makes him smile. He smiles so wide that his teeth make an appearance and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He softly replies, "Daisy,"

You return the smile and your eyes glisten with adoration as you and Paul regard each other with a newfound appreciation as if you're meeting him for the first time. It might as well be since the first few days were tumultuous, filled with uncertainty and a longing to be anywhere that wasn't Caladan. But now, all you want to be is with him. 

Paul can't help himself anymore and gives into temptation, his eyes glancing down at the negligee your body is adorned with. It’s a bit tight and it leaves almost nothing to the imagination; he's able to see the colour of your flesh through the transparent silk. His eyes linger on the imprints of your breasts as they poke through the fabric but what really intrigues Paul is the secret that lies between your thighs. Paul notices the strap of your negligee has started to slip down your shoulder and he reaches up to adjust it, his fingers gently brushing against your collarbone as he does so.

Immediately, he notices that the simple touch has caused goosebumps to explode across the surface of your skin followed by a tinge of red. Paul is fascinated by this change and wonders what other reactions you have in store for him. Meanwhile, you're growing impatient with him. You wish he'd just kiss you already because you miss the feeling of his lips against yours. But he doesn't and unbeknownst to you, Paul is planning to take his sweet time. 

Paul steps back, unbuttoning the top of his tunic. He's never gotten used to the tightness of his uniform and he lets out a sigh of relief. His eyes briefly glance at you standing there. You look annoyed by his actions and this amuses him.

You begin to shift on the balls of your heels, teeth biting into your lower lip as you think ‘patience is a virtue’. Paul has had a long day of weapons training and royal responsibilities. Surely, he is tired. But you have also waited all day for him and waiting a few more minutes sounds torturous - maybe if you ask him to kiss you, he'll listen.

"Please, Paul..." Your voice comes out whinier than intended. You feel embarrassed but it's Paul's reaction to your petulance that makes the pink colour in your cheeks deepen into crimson.

He pauses, a single eyebrow of his raising as his lips lift into a playful smirk. "Please, what, Daisy?"

Paul watches you through those thick, dark eyelashes of his. He waits for your answer and what you're unaware of is that he has enough patience to wait forever. After all, he is the son of a duke. Since birth, he's been taught to endure and persevere. 

“I-I…” You stutter, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the look clouding over in Paul’s verdant eyes. It causes an unfamiliar feeling to stir inside you and your thoughts quickly become a jumbled, incoherent mess. But thankfully, what you can recall is Lady Jessica’s advice: if you can’t tell him, show him. 

Slowly, you walk forward with Paul watching your every move. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the button of his tunic, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. As you unbutton his tunic, you quietly inquire, “How was your weapons training?”

Your question brings a sense of closeness that you’ve never experienced before. But truth be told, you don’t care about his weapon training. You just think it’ll help speed things up a bit. But Paul is distracted. His gaze lingers on your face; he’s admiring the smattering of freckles that dance along the bridge of your nose. You glance at him and see that his lips are still curved into an adoring smile. It makes your heart swell. 

Paul finally answers your question but his words fall on deaf ears because your mind is distracted by the sight of his lean waist. You find yourself growing envious of his body and begin to feel insecure because there is no denying the fact that your body is fuller than his, your bits fleshy and pudgy. Of course, Paul sees the change in your face and at first, he’s confused. But as he watches your eyes studying his body, particularly his perfectly flat stomach, he realizes what is bothering you. 

"Oh, Daisy..." He coos. His voice breaks through your thoughts and you look at him, puzzled. Paul tilts his head to the side and traces his finger along your rotund jawline. Truth be told, he adores the ampleness of your body. He’s been admiring your curves for days and now, he finally has the opportunity to touch them. Paul is filled with the utmost delight at the prospect of being smothered by you body that’s bigger than his. 

It is this exact thought that unleashes Paul from his restraints and he leans down, capturing your lips with his. You sigh happily and instantly forget about your jealousy. You relish the feeling of his supple lips pressing against yours - finally. He places a hand on the nape of your neck and the other on your hip, fingers digging into your thick flesh. He eagerly presses his body against yours, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

This kiss is different than the one in the garden. It's urgent. Needy. Paul is eager for more and he deepens it by swiping his tongue against your bottom lip. Your mouth opens - you've never been kissed like this before and at first, you're timid. Unsure of what to do. But Paul seems to be just as lost as you are. It doesn't stop either of you from trying.

Time blurs and for several minutes, it's nothing but a kindling mess of trembling hands and soft, wet noises. There is no rhythm and there is no tempo. Paul is sucking your tongue into his mouth and next, you're nipping at his lower lip; he growls when you do so. The growl reverberates through your body and dissolves into a heavy pleasure that presses down into your core. 

Your lungs are desperate for fresh air and reluctantly, you separate. Your chest heaves against Paul’s and you gaze at him, noting how his eyes are still closed, lost in the throes of passion. His lips are swollen, bee-stung. Your lips are swollen too. Paul begins to run his hands up and down your back, his feathery touch tickles and you giggle softly at the sensation. His eyes snap open, verdant eyes flickering with burning desire. 

“Do you want to lie down?” His voice is low-pitched but clear, his intentions are polite and sincere. He'll never stop being a duke even during the most intimate of times. He presses his forehead against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. 

"Yes," Your voice shakes. He takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Tension begins to simmer beneath the surface and it causes your throat to dry up, making it difficult to speak. Those pesky nerves have come back and you wish they hadn't because you were having so much fun before -

“Are you okay?” Paul asks lowering your body down first before sliding his body next to yours. Your stomach is violently fluttering and you can only nod in response. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.

Paul can just tell by wavering doubt on your face that you’re not okay. He peers at you, his face full of concern. He speaks, “Tell me you’re okay, Daisy,”

You swallow dryly and nod for a second time. Your fingers are gripping his arm because you are afraid that if you let go, he might disappear. It takes you another minute to gather yourself.

“I’m o-okay,” Breathlessly, you repeat, “I’m okay,”

This time it's Paul’s turn to nod. His lips turn into a soft, reassuring smile. He tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and addresses your concerns, “We don’t have to do this - we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,”

Your heart tumbles over its own rhythm and you quickly shake your head. You want this - you want him. You want him to penetrate you with the bulge that has been steadily growing in his pants. You whisper, “But… but what if I do want it?”

He bites into his growing smile, trying to hide his excitement. He’s thrilled that you feel the same way and he loves hearing you speak. He wishes that you’d do it more and he knows in time that you will. As his father said, Paul has an entire lifetime to spend with you. 

“Make love to me, Paul…” Your confession is quiet. Barely audible. Paul is unsure if he has even heard you but at the sight of your blushing cheeks, he knows that he wasn’t dreaming. You are silently pleading that he feels the way because if he doesn’t, you might just perish from embarrassment. 

Paul pauses to watch the look of yearning etch itself across your face. You start to shift beneath the intensity of his gaze, your eyes dropping down. That’s when Paul feels your hands moving down his body. Your fingers latch onto his trousers, attempting to unbutton them but you’re having trouble, and it’s making you flustered. 

Paul is loving every second of it. He enjoys how your brows have furrowed in concentration and he particularly likes the frustration growing on your face. You bite your lower lip and impatiently huff as you give up. You realize he’s been watching you this entire time and your eyes snap to his. You glare at the coltish expression on his face. Paul finds your exasperation endearing. 

You bury your face into his arm, mumbling, “Paul, make love to me…”

Blood rushes through his body and goes straight down to the bulge straining against his trousers. He loves your wantonness and he wants to hear you beg for it again. He pulls your face away from his skin, eyes devouring you. As he holds your chin between his hands, Paul demands, “Say it again,”

You can’t help but glare again at him. He knows you won’t disobey. You speak, voice clipped with precise ardency, “Paul Atreides, my lord, will you please fuck me?” 

The mixture of his full name and his title sends his blood into a frenzy. If he was already turned on before, then what’s happening to his body now? One thing for sure is that you don’t have to ask again because, within a minute, Paul has hastily thrown off his trousers and he’s now completely naked. 

Your eyes, well… your eyes are instantly locked onto the appendage between your husband’s thighs. Of course, you have seen what a phallus looks like in art and in scientific videos. But in comparison to Paul’s, those examples were tiny and they definitely did not prepare you for the real thing. 

His cock is so engorged and so pink, the tip of it glistening with some sort of secretion. As he moves his body back down to the bed, his cock twitches and bobs. He sees your fascination and watches how you are practically salivating over his well-endowed gift. Your core squirms with anticipation and your thighs involuntarily flex at the thought of him being inside you.

“Do you want to touch it?” His voice is timid, hesitating to request such a thing from his innocent wife but he’s held back long enough. Paul is so sure that he’s going to burst at any second - he watches as you reach out, hand faltering at second thoughts. Paul inhales sharply, “Touch me, Daisy, please…”

When your fingers brush against the tip of his cock, he shudders and his stomach constricts causing his cock to quiver. You quickly look up at him, wondering if you had hurt him but it’s clear you haven’t. He has an intense but dazed look on his face and he’s biting down on his lower lip, restraining himself. Paul is holding himself back and persevering through the pure torture you’re currently putting him through.

You wonder what’ll happen if you firmly grasp his cock, so your hand wraps around his girthy shaft and a throaty groan escapes from deep inside Paul’s body. His reaction pleases you and slowly, you continue to drag your hand down until it rests against the furry tufts on the base of his cock. 

You notice how Paul’s chest is heaving and he’s pressing his body into the mattress, hands gripping the sheets, knuckles almost turning white. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, pleading for more but you’re taking your time, exploring his body, finding ways to incite reactions from him. You know he’s enjoying your hand gliding up and down his cock but what if… what if you were to taste him? You readjust your body so that you’re sitting with your mouth hovering over his cock.

“Daisy, what’re you…” Paul says, his voice deeper than usual. You lick the tip of his cock, tasting the pearly secretion that has been leaking out. Paul gasps, swearing under his breath. You lick his cock again and once more, Paul reacts with a throaty gasp. You’ve overpowered him with one simple move and now he’s yours. It is at this moment that Paul realizes he is supposed to be listening to your sighs and moans but instead, you’re listening to his. 

He watches as you thoroughly lick the tip of his cock. The sensation is immaculate and he’s struggling to remain cool and composed. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing but you’re enjoying the smoothness and warmth of his arousal. You seal your lips around him and slowly, very tentatively, lower your mouth down. Paul groans loudly and his hand finds the back of your head, his fingers gripping your hair so that it’s not in the way of his view. 

The sight of you, mouth full of his throbbing cock, practically sends him over the edge. He has to restrain himself by closing his eyes and silently begging that he doesn’t ejaculate - he can’t. Not yet. He’s trying to convince himself that it’s your turn to be pleasured but when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag and the sound makes him completely forget everything. His eyes snap open, watching as you bring your mouth back up, leaving a trail of spit pooling down his cock. 

“D-Da-Daisy,” Paul sputters out, completely out of breath. You ignore him, dragging both your hands along his quivering cock. He struggles to find his words but when he does, he orders, “Stop,”

He grabs your hands and pulls them off his body. Shocked, you look at him. He looks like a man who has just been to hell and back. His hair is beyond dishevelment, strands of it sticking to his damp forehead. His eyes are wild, his once verdant eyes have been taken over by expanded pupils that have blackened out any colour.  

Before you can ask what you did wrong, Paul is tugging off the negligee and exposing your naked body to him for the first time. His eyes sweep over every nook and cranny, noting every bulge of abundance. He’s taking inventory, marking his favourite areas. He’s particularly drawn to your breasts and how they swell against your chest, gravity pulling down the pillows of dough. They look rather heavy to Paul and he just has to reach up to grasp them. God, they’re so soft and perfect. He’s quick to lower his mouth, latching it onto your perky nipple. The sensation of his tongue swiping over the sensitive bud makes you gasp, “Paul,”

He grins against your skin and can’t help himself, he just has to nibble at the fleshy softness of your chest, which causes you to gasp. Your hand grabs the back of Paul’s head, fingers kneading through his hair, locking him there because your breasts absolutely love the attention. Meanwhile, Paul feels like he is in heaven, sighing happily as little noises continue to escape from your mouth. 

Simply put, he can’t get enough of you. He licks and sucks your breasts as if they were ripe fruits, his tongue sweet and rough against the sensitive flesh. He alternates between too much and not enough, which creates a perplexed feeling between your hips, right in the crest of your crotch. It’s vague, incomplete. You have never felt such a thing before tonight. You flex your thighs, hoping that you can rid yourself of the unnatural feeling. 

With his mouth still attached to your breast, Paul takes his hand and plants it on the inside of your thigh. This movement doesn’t help the unnatural feeling that has been steadily growing and you squirm, hoping Paul doesn’t notice. Of course, he does and he detaches himself to peer at you. He loves how pink and splotchy your cheeks have gotten, and he loves how your eyes have narrowed into a lusty squint. 

Testing you, he drags his fingers upward. His cock throbs at how saturated your thighs have gotten. He doesn’t even think you’re aware of the wetness seeping from your flower and he cups your fuzzy mound, which causes you to squeal in surprise. The sudden intrusion is too much and you’re squirming out of his grasp. Paul is quick and wraps his other arm around your body. He’s strong enough to hold you, keeping you locked against him. 

With his voice barely above a whisper, Paul asks, “Can I?”

You swallow hard. You desperately want him to touch you down there but you’re terrified of what might happen because you heard that unnatural things can occur. Paul senses your worry and feels your hesitation, and immediately takes his hand away - consent is the most important thing. You can’t help but notice how your pussy suddenly feels lonely now…

However, those thoughts are quickly pushed away because Paul pulls your body down with his, your chest colliding with his as he lies underneath you. You feel like you’re crushing him and for a third time, you begin to squirm. 

“Daisy,” His grip tightens. You stop squirming and sheepishly glance up at him. He’s gazing at you, with so much love and adoration, that it makes your breathing hitch inside your throat. Paul whispers, “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

The compliment makes you blush, your skin reddening even more. You confess, “I’m not a woman yet -”

“Yet,” Paul interjects and shifts so that your body is lying next to his. He kisses your temple, “Lay back and relax, I’m going to try something…” 

You’re reluctant for Paul to see such an intimate part of you. He pleads, eyes begging for a chance. He murmurs, “Just trust me, okay?”

His words make you reconsider. You decide to trust your husband and you lay down, inhaling to calm yourself. But the moment Paul places his hands on your legs, your heart rate spikes and rattles against your chest. As he spreads you open, he looks at your flower with reverence. It’s so puffy, so pink and so wet that it glistens beneath the glowglobes. 

He positions his body between your thighs, his cock rubs against the inner flesh, and you shudder at the sensation. He looks at you, worried. You shake your head, “Paul, I need you…”

At your request, he is so quick to touch you. His finger slides along your folds. You suck in and bite down on your lower lip, holding back. But Paul yearns to hear you, and he does it again, repeating the movement. A small groan escapes and it’s all the encouragement that he needs. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you see that he is in deep concentration, studying as your hips jerk when he presses his palm against a sensitive little nub that’s hiding between your petals. As he does it again, your mouth goes slack and a moan slips out. He begins to circle it with determination, knowing this must be the spot. 

There’s a liquid heat pooling in your core and the more pressure he adds, the less you can take it. You are back to squirming beneath his touch, gasping and groaning at the pressure building inside. It’s such a foreign feeling - you feel like you’re going to burst open. You feel scared about what might happen. You want Paul to stop, yet you don’t. Everything is so conflicting and your throat is parched, and you want your husband to look at you. But Paul is so engrossed in what he’s doing - he’s absolutely fascinated at the stickiness that seeps through your magnificent folds. 

Unable to take much more, you reach down and grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. At first, he’s baffled. He was so sure that you were enjoying his hard work -  your eyes are hungry, having not been satiated yet. The look sends a chill down his spine and when you whimper, his cock twitches. 

If he wants to make you a woman, it needs to happen now. You whimper again, “Paul, I need you … I need you inside of me,”

“Are … are you sure, Daisy?” He asks, eyes glazing over. You nod and reach up to caress his cheek. Paul is so unbelievably sweet. He begins to trail kisses along your stomach, tongue dipping into your belly button causing you to throw your head back into the pillow. He grins wolfishly and continues marking his territory, relentlessly teasing you until you are nothing but a wet, blubbering mess.

Finally, after a lifetime has passed, Paul sweetly kisses your lips and his cock brushes against your swollen labia. The first meeting. Wetness against wetness. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his shoulders down into your body. Paul steadies himself, his chest puffing out with excitement as he lines the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“Fuck,” He hisses. Paul knows it’s going to be a tight fit and he’s worried about hurting you. He plants a tender kiss against your jaw, whispering, “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” 

You nod, shutting your eyes and moaning out as his cock begins to nudge inside. It’s definitely a little too large for comfort and your body is resisting - you have to order yourself to relax. And when he’s finally pushed past, there’s a popping sensation. It’s quick and it hurts, pain shooting through your pelvis. You wince. 

Paul notices and stops, he attempts to pull out but you’re quick to lock your legs around his. His lips move against your skin, “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” You sniffle, shaking your head. But Paul can see straight through your lie. He asks the question again, shifting because he’s afraid of causing you pain. This time, you answer truthfully, “It hurts but your cock… it feels so good, Paul - don’t stop, please don’t stop -”

He listens and continues to push his hips forward. Your eyes remain closed but your mouth hangs open, little mewling noises coming forth. Paul struggles to remain composed as your tight cunt swallows his girth. At a glacial pace, he pushes into your body and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He’s struggling not to cum because, for him, the suction of your velvety walls is swiftly driving him toward the edge. 

“You’re such a good girl,” He’s barely audible, hands gripping the side of your protruding stomach. He gives one final thrust, grunting, “Cunt so goddamn tight,”

His cock is fully inside, buried to the hilt. You’re gasping, fireworks sparking behind your eyelids. Your hands are trailing along his back, nails digging into fevered flesh. It still hurts but it’s a good type of hurt. He begins rocking his hips, slowly at first, stretching out your virgin cunt. The mixture of pain and pleasure has you splitting open, crying out, “Oh, fuck! Paul!”

For a moment, Paul thinks he’s hurting you again and he pauses. You hiss at him, “My lord, just fuck me already,”

Your lord does not like that. He sits up on his knees, arms placed on either side of you and hovers over your body. It glistens with sweat and you’re eyes have snapped open at the sudden loss. You see that Paul’s eyebrows are knitted together, irritated that you brought up his nobility. He pulls out, noting the smear of crimson around his cock but doesn’t think twice about it and shoves it back inside. 

You cry out, “My lord,”

He seethes, biting down on his lower lip and begins to rapidly thrust in and out. You want to be properly fucked and he’s giving you exactly what you want. The room fills with your cries of pleasure as Paul spitefully fucks your sweet cunt. The same sweet cunt that is making crude, wet noises, making it impossible not to spill his seed right then and there. 

He wants to make sure that you finish too but Paul knows he’s close. He feels the familiar sensation of an orgasm building inside; he knows the feeling all too well because he’s no stranger to masturbation. In fact, he’s spilled his seed onto this very bed many times in the past year. He’s restraining himself, the friction starting to become too much for him - the tight coil wants to snap and he can’t stop thinking about filling your womb with his seed. 

He shudders, willing himself to slow down so that you can catch up to him. His thrusting turns tender and he begins to lovingly guide his cock into your body, burying it against your hilt. Paul notices that you like this more because your moans have become guttural, coming from somewhere deep. He does it again, fully burrowing his cock in your velvety walls. They are contracting, practically convincing Paul to spill his seed. He's barely able to resist the temptation.

You seem to be fighting your own demons and reaching for something that you aren’t even sure exists. Certainly, it must because what else is this feeling that has pooled inside your belly? The liquid is hot, near boiling point. Each time Paul thrusts his cock, it hits a spot and it makes your cunt convulse, and your eyes roll back because the stimulation is too much.

Your hands grip Paul’s strong arms, nails digging into his flesh. Paul reaches down between your bodies, fingers fondling your fuzzy little mound as he remains buried inside. He pushes your puffy lips apart and presses your button. It sends a jolt through your body and you bellow out, “Paul!”

He presses his thumb against the sensitive little nub and glides his cock against that spot, and you’re so close - so close. Paul pushes his cock into the depths of your cunt, practically tearing into your womb. His cock quivers against the friction of your walls and he shudders, eyes closing tight while his hand continues to work your clitoris. He wills himself not to cum but it’s useless because, within seconds, he’s shooting his hot, thick load into your tight, breedable cunt. 

Paul,

House Atreides still has friends in the palace. Use these gifts as you see fit. Long live the fighters.

Yours,

Imogen

He immediately knows these ships and the weapons they brought are at great cost to you. You may be the emperor's daughter, but he has no doubt you would be punished swiftly for your treason, if you hadn't been already. The thought of you facing the consequences for helping him makes him feel ill. You're strong—much stronger than him and more adept at everything he isn't —but surely even you could be overcome.

He thinks you might be better suited to delivering the Fremen to peace instead of him, but you’re too far away, holed up on Kaitain with your family. You're a mole in the emperor's house, one he can count on but not one he can take advantage of.

He will need to be patient. You will stand behind him when the time comes, but for now, he must wait. Keeping you safe seems a small price to pay, but the Fremen are strong, too. They can handle the costs.

He rereads the letter, committing it to memory before he destroys it. There is nothing to indicate you will be sending more of these deadly gifts, and so he supposes they will have to treat these with care.

***

You too see with more than just your eyes, and you can feel Paul's gratitude across millions of miles during your breakfast with your father and sisters. The warmth of his gratitude washes over your tongue like cream, and you take a sip of ice water to keep yourself from outright grinning and giving yourself away as you listen to Irulan debate with your father the emperor. The ships Paul received were taken off the records, their trackers destroyed, and there are several dozens soldiers and weapons mysteriously missing from the armory and barracks.

All of them loyal to you, all of them fighting for a better life. They believe in Paul's cause, and volunteered to help when you went looking for people you could trust. If they had families, they were relocated in secrecy on Arrakis, close by to their warrior loved ones.

No loose ends this way.

A few of your most trusted guards stayed, their allegiance to you unwavering. They spoke of you taking the throne in Irulan's place, but you didn't want it. The people had known your bloodline for too long. It was time for a new leader and a new beginning. When the time came, you would stand by your friend and voice your support. The great Houses would follow.

They always did.

***

You are beaten in front of the throne when your crimes are discovered. You laugh in the face of your father's personal guard, blood dripping from your broken nose and staining the granite a vibrant red. You're still wearing your clothes in the men's style and you find yourself glad for it when you imagine how much of a nightmare it would be to be caught in blood-sticky chiffon and flowing layers of silk.

"Our house is bathed in the blood of innocents, we are traitors ourselves," You cough loudly as you refer to the betrayal of Leto Atreides, eyes passing over the aristocracy that fills the great hall. "And now we shall pay for it."

You take your small knife from its sheath at your waist, pointing it threateningly towards your own abdomen instead of at your circling adversary. Some people gasp at your boldness; a stomach wound is a death sentence.

"Imogen," Your little sister of four and ten sobs, clutching at Irulan's arm that is braced around her protectively. "Father didn't mean it, please! Just drop it!"

The emperor looks on from his place on the steps leading up to the throne. His eyes are tortured, but you know him—he's playing a part. He'll send you away to exile and then play the grieving father when you are unexpectedly assassinated by someone loyal to the crown.

You'd rather fall into the terrifying maw of the Shai-Halud.

"Drop the knife, Imogen." He says. "No one will harm you further, just drop the knife."

You feel warm blood trickle down the side of your face; you might have a concussion from hitting your head on the granite when you were knocked down. You can also feel pain blooming in your ribs and back from where you were kicked. You don't have much time to waste.

"Clear a path," You spit, feet moving backward. You stretch your mind out to make sure no one is planning on attacking you from behind. "There's nothing left for me to do here. Men, with me!"

Your guards, having been warned to stand by until you gave the order if something like this were to happen, move past your father's soldiers, eyes ablaze with contempt. They form a protective circle around you and one of them, your friend Joel, places his arm around your waist to help your limping form along. A ship with two more men await you, and there are some that stay behind to make sure no one follows you. You lean against Joel and bury your bleeding face in your hands as you leave your friends on the ground, the ship flying high and stirring up dust.

They'll be executed if not tortured for information by morning. You hope they die like warriors instead. It weighs so heavily on you that you barely register someone trying their best to clean your face. Wet cloth comes away pink and drips on the floor.

"Their sacrifice is honorable," Joel says later. "Weep for them, but do not despair. Their deaths are not in vain."

You keep his words at the forefront of your mind as your ornithopter docks with a bigger ship, one that will take you to Arrakis. You fall asleep, exhausted as you wait to arrive on your new home.

***

You are carried off, still unconscious as a doctor looks you over and does what he can. Your nose is set and cuts attended to, and your old clothes burned. Paul sits by your sleeping form, protective of you. You’re vulnerable here, naked body covered in an airy muslin tunic and sheet for modesty's sake. He can see purple blooming underneath the thin material and wishes he could have stopped it.

But the Fremen saw it too—your devotion to their cause. Paul is frequently surprised at their willingness to please him, their Lisan al Gaib. Your well-being has been seen to as staunchly as his own would have been had he asked it of them.

You groan when you finally wake, drawing him to your side. You wince when you try to move over as he sits down on the edge of your bed.

"You've been resting awhile," His voice is a balm over you; you didn't realize how much you missed it until now. "Haven't moved much, either. I'm sure you're sore."

"In more ways than one," You rasp quietly. "The Sardaukar's reputation certainly precedes them."

He brings a handmade cup to your lips and helps you lift your head to drink. The water is cool and soothes your throat in an instant.

"You're lucky you got out."

"Maybe," You lick at a stray droplet at the corner of your mouth, his eyes following the movement. "Or maybe I'm just that good."

The corners of his mouth turn up as he sets the cup back in its spot of a small table next to your bed.

"Maybe." He parrots, looking over your still healing face. Your cuts had closed up and were more of a startling pink instead of an angry red, and your bruises were harder to see under the fabric.

"Can I check something?" He asks, fingers playing with the hem of your tunic. Your eyes blink as you manage a shrug.

"I'm not in much of a position to argue."

He purses his lips. "I won't do it if you'd rather not."

You contemplate that for a moment, grateful he'd even thought to ask your permission. "It's alright."

He fixes you with a look before lifting the muslin up to the underside of your breast, eyes scanning. He gently brushes along the path of the yellow-green marks with the pads of his fingers, making you flinch a bit.

"Sorry," He murmurs, dark curls falling into his face. You fight the urge to tuck them behind his ears. "The healer said to keep an eye on this spot, it's where one of your ribs was cracked."

You feel your face heat up as he pulls the fabric back down, berating yourself for wanting him to continue his gentle touching and pampering. He must have better things to do than look after you.

"Thank you, Paul," You find yourself saying, fingers reaching out for his hand on the bed. "For—looking after me. I didn't mean to put you in this position."

He smiles softly and covers your hand with his other, thumbs stroking over your knuckles affectionately. Even after all this time apart, he was sweet with you. "I don't mind."

"Mm," You sigh, eyes beginning to droop again. "Promise?"

"Promise." He affirms. "Go back to sleep, warrior-princess. I'll be right here."

You murmur something intelligible, probably an old insult, as you succumb to slumber once more. He stays with you as long as he can with his hands stroking your hair before he is called away. He asks that he be notified when you're awake again and ready to eat, but he suspects he'll be back long before then.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

Saiyans are a ‘mate’ race, and since they initially were conquering planets (pre-Frieza), they usually died alongside their mates. So this left little possibility of one dying off on another planet while leaving their spouse/mate behind. It’s unusual for saiyans to die before their other partner, they are a pair species so they usually share the same lifespans anyways. This leaves Goku devastated and instinctively in a depression, along with the exception that he also isn’t like other saiyans, the usual saiyan would t*ke their own l*fe but he is just trying to process the grief of losing her so suddenly. Vegeta has only seen this instance happen like twice when he was younger and with his father handling it and explaining to him the biology behind it.

As for Gohan, he is devastated and goes through denial for a solid month until Goku decides to leave him with Vegeta and Bulma. He has to deal with his grief in his own way and without the help of his father, which makes him resent him for a small time until he finally comes to terms with his mother’s death and tries to understand his father and what he might be going through. On the bright side he learns a lot from Vegeta while he stays with his family and grows up for a bit with Trunks. Trunks starts to view Gohan as an older brother during the time he’s with them and they remain close later on in the story.

Everyone else (all of Goku’s other friend’s) is surprised and shocked at the news and they each feel guilty for not attempting to connect with Chichi beyond surface level interactions but they soon appreciate the little moments she shared with them before her untimely death, leading them to believe and later on confirm that she knew she had the virus.

Goku takes years to try and improve himself and find ways to provide for and raise Gohan before he finally takes him out of Vegeta and Bulma’s hands. The two are awkward at first but they quickly comfort each other before they arrive back in their lonely home where they last shared a moment with her.

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Table of Contents:

Playlist (coming soon)

Prologue

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"Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a voice like thunder, 'Come and see.' And I looked, and behold, a white horse. He who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer."

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Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

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"When He opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, 'Come and see.' Another horse, fiery red, went out. And it was granted to the one who sat on it to take peace from the earth, and that people should kill one another; and there was given to him a great sword."

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Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

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A/N (2/22/24): Hey Hey! I hope you guys are enjoying, all the support means so much to me. This is my first fic ever so I’m learning on the way so thanks for the patience.

I have big plans for this fic. With that I plan to follow the whole aot storyline to the rumbling. I don’t plan on ending anytime soon. Just keep in mind this might be a painful slow-burn with lots of OC trauma.

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