delusional girl but make it cool

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VI)

Feyd woke up in the morning at the same time as always, his body was almost programmed to do that every day. The reason behind that was not only his need to practise but – most importantly – discipline. What had started with his uncle’s regimen, turned into his own self-controlling practices. At least when it came to pushing his body to the limit and training himself to become the greatest warrior in the galaxy.

Sex was the only sphere of his life where he was free and without any self-discipline at all. And perhaps the only sphere where he was really in charge. His daily life was filled with his uncle’s repulsive presence – Baron Harkonnen was like a big, fat spider; his sticky spiderweb was surrounding Feyd-Rautha and everyone else involved in his schemes. His presence was suffocating. Even in the arena Feyd could not be in control because everything was arranged by his uncle.

He looked at his sleeping wife. She was breathing calmly as her chest kept rising up and falling down rhythmically. Her throat was deliciously exposed and her lips slightly parted. She was a beautiful little thing and one swift movement of his hand would kill her. He always slept with a knife under his pillow. Feyd could picture it already; her pretty throat slit open and her red blood spilling all over the pillows and the mattress of his bed.

He had used to think of that a lot in the beginning of their marriage. How easy it would be to just kill her… for fun. For the sake of it. Because he could. Because she was his property.

But now, picturing that scene made him feel uneasy. He didn’t like imagining it and it was weird. He couldn’t understand why he found no pleasure in a fantasy like that anymore.

Perhaps it was because she could already carry his heir. But did it really matter? If not her, another one would. It was not that big of a deal after all.

He left the bed and went to take a quick shower before putting his clothes on. She was still asleep and he smirked at the sight. He wondered what her dreams were. He barely had any but he was sure it was not the case for her.

Not wanting to be late, he left the bedroom and walked towards the staircase when one of the Baron’s closest servants stopped him. It meant that his uncle had to come back from Arrakis already. Feyd knew he would come back quickly but it still felt too quick. He wouldn’t mind him staying there for a longer time.

“My Lord na-baron,” the servant bowed down as lowly as he could, “your uncle the Baron wishes to see you before your training.”

Feyd nodded at him and turned around to go to his uncle’s chambers. He couldn’t understand why he hated to go there as much as he did. He owed his uncle everything. He owed him the Harkonnen surname, he owed him his status and the future title of the Baron. Yet, seeing that old, sick man in his slimy black bathtub felt somehow pathetic, disgusting and enraging. If Feyd’s position on Giedi Prime was stronger already, he would murder his uncle with his bare hands. He wanted to bite the hand that feeds.

But his reputation was not good enough yet – most people saw him as a playboy who was only good at putting on a show in the arena. They knew his rivals were drugged and they knew he was his uncle’s puppet. Most people didn’t see him as smart and mature enough to be the future Baron.

Although his servants had told him that the same people liked his wife and hoped that the marriage would change him into a more serious man. People of Giedi Prime were mesmerised by their new na-baroness. Not only had there been no women in power in a long time on this planet but also she was of an exotic beauty that was making people jealous and curious.

Feyd stood in front of the door leading to his uncle’s chambers and nodded at the guards. They opened the door and he walked inside confidently before standing in front of the big tube where his uncle was sitting and smoking a pipe.

“You’re back,” Feyd greeted him coldly and clasped his hands behind his back.

“You don’t seem to be pleased, dear nephew,” Baron chuckled. “I left your brother in charge of Arrakis for now.”

“Why is he given this chance and not I?” Feyd’s muscles tensed. “Am I not your heir?”

“You are. That is why I need you here,” Baron smirked. “My servants informed me you had freed our baroness after one night in the cell. Is that true?” He changed the topic.

Feyd hesitated with an answer. First of all, he hated the way his uncle addressed his wife. He had hated it from the very beginning when they were talking about her – even before he had met her. After all, she was supposed to be his pet. But these days it was making him even more outraged.

Second of all, he knew very well he couldn’t answer honestly. He couldn’t tell his uncle that he simply hadn’t felt like locking his wife up in a cell for a few days. There had been no reason and she hadn’t been acting up after her family’s death. In fact, she was surprisingly stoic about it. At least when he was around.

“I wanted to fuck,” he answered but his uncle squinted his eyes at him. He knew very well that was a lie.

“You have plenty of others to satisfy your sexual desires with,” Baron pointed out.

“She is my wife. I don’t have to explain myself to you about what I do to her and what I decide about her,” Feyd drawled out.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Baron only chuckled sarcastically. “Have you bred her already?”

“I have,” Feyd nodded. “She will be inspected by the medic today.”

“Assuming she is with child, in nine months you will have to make a decision whether to keep her or not,” Baron reminded him.

Feyd knew that his uncle wanted to be the one to make this decision for him. He wondered what his opinion on that matter was.

“And what would you want me to do with her?” He asked.

“I have to observe her more thoroughly. She has good qualities and I wouldn’t mind keeping her around. She surprised me, I have to admit. But on the other hand… Her cunning nature is something I do not approve of,” Baron confessed and Feyd laughed contemptuously at that.

“Look who’s talking, dear uncle,” he hissed out.

“Either way, perhaps we will not have to make a decision at all,” Baron smiled mysteriously and Feyd looked at him questioningly. “You know that her mother died in childbirth. The medic told me that the chances for that are high with our baroness, too. But don’t worry, your son should be fine.”

Feyd’s jaw clenched. For some reason he didn’t like the possibility his uncle had just told him about.

“Stop calling her our baroness. She is mine, is she not?” He felt anger filling his whole body; his veins were on fire, his muscles tensed and head felt as if it would explode any given moment. He had to restrain himself, though, and that was when he found the self-discipline training indeed useful. “When you were trying to convince me to this marriage, you were luring me by telling me she would be my pet, my property, something for me to play with. Now you claim her as if she was your own.”

“Between us two, dear nephew. If I was younger and of better health, I would never give her to you,” Baron Harkonnen smirked with contempt. “Perhaps I’d still do it anyway but I just knew that Leto would never agree to that,” he laughed and Feyd felt sick at the thought. “She is more fit to become the Baroness than you are to become the Baron. Under different circumstances, she would be mine. And what belongs to you, belongs to me anyway, for as long as I’m alive. You owe me everything.”

Feyd hadn’t been that angry in a long while. Not only did his uncle play with his possessive nature but also managed to insult him by saying that his wife was more worthy than him.

“Can I go now?” Feyd only asked, breathing heavily and clenching his fists.

“Yes, my dear nephew, you are free to go… Kiss our baroness from me,” Baron’s chortle accompanied Feyd as he was walking out of his uncle’s chambers.

After breakfast you were taken to the medic who was supposed to inspect you to find out if you were expecting Feyd-Rautha’s heir. You were not sure how to feel about it at all.

The idea of being pregnant with his baby was making you feel disgusted. And you knew that after giving birth to that child he would be able to kill you. On the other hand carrying his heir in your womb would make you untouchable for the next nine months and you could start playing your game with him a little rougher.

The medic smiled slightly and looked into your eyes as you were laying on the examination table. One of his cold hands was on your abdomen and the other was looking at some sort of device that you had not seen before. Giedi Prime was more technically advanced than your homeworld.

“You are with child, na-baroness. With a healthy baby boy,” he informed you.

A sudden wave of emotions spread throughout your body. Some unexpected warmth as you caught yourself smiling back at the medic.

“A-are you sure?” You asked.

“Yes, my Lady,” he nodded his head and moved away from you.

You carefully put your shaking hand on your womb as you took a deep breath in. There was a life inside you – half of your heathen husband, yes… but also half of you. And no one would take it away from you. It was your legacy.

Even if Feyd would kill you after you hand him your son for the first time, you’d always be written down as the mother of one of the Harkonnen barons in their big black chronicles stored in the fortress’ library.

“I will inject some vitamins and minerals now, my Lady,” the medic informed you and you nodded your head. You reached out your hand and allowed him to inject the substance that would help you to remain healthy for your son.

Now you were untouchable. He wouldn’t dare to hurt you. In fact, his job was to keep you and the child alive and strong.

“I wonder what he will look like,” you chuckled slightly and the medic laid his eyes on you. “Will he look more like me or Feyd?”

“The child you’re carrying, my Lady, is inheriting the best genetic material from both sides.”

“So he will look like me?” You teased and the medic chuckled.

“We will see. It is hard to tell, na-baroness. I have seen children of the Harkonnens with off-world women and it’s a lottery sometimes, really.”

“What do you mean? There’s been more?” You furrowed your brow but he remained silent as if he had just accidentally shared a secret. “Just tell me were the babies my husband’s?” You asked as your heart filled with fear and… jealousy?

“Oh, no, no, my Lady, not at all,” the medic shook his head and you sighed with relief. “You are free to go, na-baroness,” he added.

You stood up and let your dress fall down to cover your body properly as an idea popped into your head.

“Please, can I be the one to inform my husband about the child?” You asked the medic as he widened his eyes at you.

“You don’t have to ask me about such things, my Lady…”

“I just wanted to make sure if it’s allowed. I haven’t read much about the customs of this sort here,” you explained. It was true. Recently, while reading the books from their library, you focused more on learning their battle and war strategies, the origins of their glamorous victories and excessive violence.

“You are free to inform your husband on your own. I am going to talk to him later about it anyway. And I will inform the Baron in the meantime, my Lady,” the medic nodded his head.

“What do you mean you are going to talk to my husband about it later? Is there something you are hiding from me that is a matter of my health?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

You weren’t a child and Feyd was not your father. It angered you that there were things that were hidden from you as if your every single body function was your husband’s property.

“It is not…” the medic tried to find the right words, “...it’s for your own good, na-baroness. I do not wish to offend you with my words but… I will have to tell na-baron a few things… If he wants the baby to be safe, I mean… Na-baron will have to change some… Some of his behaviours, I mean…”

“Hush,” you smirked at him. “I know what you mean. Thank you,” you nodded your head and walked out of his room.

Despite carrying the devil’s spawn inside of you, you felt relieved. Perhaps in nine months you’d be killed and join your family but for those upcoming nine months you were the most protected person on Giedi Prime. And even your husband would be instructed to treat you gentler.

Speaking of him, you went to the courtyard where he had been training. You heard the noises from afar already but they did not startle you. In fact, you couldn’t wait to tell him the news. You wanted to see what his reaction would be.

Would he be pleased? Or would he not be interested at all? You began to enjoy that little game you had with him so much that every new situation like this – with a new possibility and a new scheming scenario to prepare – was filling your head with adrenaline.

When you entered the courtyard, you immediately spotted that Feyd was unusually angry on that day. You had been often watching him from the balcony as you had been eating breakfast and you had never seen him that furious during a training before. The slave man he was fighting already knew his fate on that day. Your husband wouldn’t be satisfied with the simple victory. There would be blood.

You nearly regretted bothering him. When he turned around to see you approaching him, he had murder in his eyes. It made your blood turn cold for a second. You only watched and swallowed thickly as he slit the slave man’s throat without even turning his head around to look at him. The body of the servant fell to the floor behind Feyd and he lowered his knife before approaching you.

“What do you want?” He asked, harshly. His eyes were still filled with rage. That murder was not enough to satisfy his appetite for destruction.

And it scared you a little how little you felt after witnessing it. Of course you felt bad for the servant’s life. But you were not terrified like you had been the first time witnessing him kill before your wedding.

“Why are you so angry today?” You tried to ask nicely as you tilted your head and bit on your lower lip.

He looked you up and down and you dared to touch the tensed muscles of his arms gently. He flinched but did not take a step back as usual.

“Doesn’t matter,” he drawled. “I asked you a question.”

“Aw, you’re not very nice,” you batted your eyelashes. He was visibly confused with your behaviour. “And I have very good news for you, dear husband,” you added ironically. Feyd’s eyes sparkled at that.

“You’re carrying an heir?” He asked and you nodded as your lips curled into a nervous smile. To your surprise, your husband smiled, too. It was one of his sneering smiles but it still counted as a form of joy in his limited body language.

“The medic says it’s a healthy baby boy. I’ve been injected with some vitamins and minerals, too,” you informed him. “He said he would have a word with you later.”

Feyd nodded at that. You noticed that his anger seemed to disappear now almost completely as his eyes kept wandering to your abdomen. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his empty hand to place it on your womb.

He tried to take it away and hissed at you but you kept clinging to it and pressing it to your body until he gave up.

“It is your heir, Feyd-Rautha. Your son, my Baron,” you whispered very quietly, seeing one of the real Baron’s servants approaching you from afar. “And it surprises me but I feel pride carrying him in my womb,” you added but what surprised you even more was the fact that these words didn’t feel like a lie at all.

“Na-baron, na-baroness…” Baron’s servant bowed down in front of you. “I am very sorry to bother but Baron Harkonnen wishes to see the Lady in the throne room.”

“Thank you,” you nodded at him. You wondered what that could be about but you assumed it was about the baby.

“I will go, too,” Feyd decided as he hid his blade and began walking even before you had moved. You followed him, not sure why he cared so much to be there as well. You had a feeling that something had happened this morning that you did not know of. And you didn’t like not knowing because every piece of information could be useful.

Not that you’d ever know everything going on behind your back. Not that you ever had.

When you entered the throne room, Feyd stood by your side in front of his uncle. It was perhaps the first time he didn’t stand behind you like a guard watching your every single movement. You weren’t sure if he did that intentionally but it made you feel more equal to him and you enjoyed that feeling.

The Baron was sitting on his throne and you smirked at the memory of conceiving your son there. You weren’t sure if it had exactly happened there but you liked to think so. There were also a few of Baron’s advisors sitting by the table filled with all sorts of papers.

“Baroness,” Baron greeted you and you nodded your head, gritting your teeth at the title he addressed you with, “I’ve heard that you’re carrying our heir. This pleases me,” he added and you heard Feyd taking a deep, shaky breath in.

“This pleases me, too, my Lord,” you answered calmly.

“But that is not the reason why I invited you here,” he explained. “As you know, your father and brother are dead,” he reminded you casually but it was obvious that he was watching your every little reaction. You felt your eye twitching but nothing else except for that. Feyd watched you, too, from the corner of his eye. You felt like a trapped animal. Showing weakness was absolutely forbidden.

“And Lady Jessica, too, I hope,” you only said.

“Of course,” Baron chuckled, “but have you thought what does that make you, then?”

“An orphan?” You asked, confused and that made the Baron laugh again.

“No, baroness. You are now The Duchess of The House Atreides,” he announced and your heart sank in your chest.

Oh, in what a twisted way your dream had come true. You had always wanted to bear this title; to be your father’s heiress. But you had never wanted to achieve it with murder and death. And now – indeed – you were the last living person of the Atreides bloodline. And it didn’t matter anymore that you were a woman because the title was allowed to be inherited by women in case of no male heirs.

“I guess I am,” you looked at the Baron. “But is not Arrakis now under your rule, my Lord?”

“We need you to sign a treaty of capitulation, Duchess Atreides,” he explained while using your new title sarcastically and he pointed at the table with all the papers. “Just a formality.”

You approached it and Feyd followed you like a dog. You furrowed your brow while starting to read.

“Take your time,” Baron mocked you.

Of course you knew that you had to sign it anyway. But you still wanted to know what you were supposed to sign. The treaty included allowing Count Rabban to become the Governor of Arrakis and a few more complicated details about the spice production. There were also points about you basically having no right to anything as the Duchess Atreides – you’d be her by the title only.

“And what about my homeworld? Caladan?” You asked.

“Caladan has been given to Count Hasimir Fenring by the Emperor’s order,” Baron informed you.

“Shame. You shouldn’t have allowed that, my Lord,” you told him. “Caladan was my family’s home for ten thousand years and it still officially belonged to my father while he resided on Arrakis. We lost Caladan then,” you sighed and leaned in to sign the treaty.

“I know your homeworld has sentimental value to you, baroness, but to me it has none. I only care about Arrakis and its spice,” Baron squinted his eyes at you.

“I did not expect you to give up on things so easily, my Lord. The more the better, is it not? Shouldn’t our ambition be unlimited?” You teased him and he remained silent for a short while. You started to worry that you had said too much.

“Either way, I have a gift for you, Duchess Atreides,” Baron waved at one of his advisors and they opened a black box in front of you.

It contained one of your father’s signet rings and you froze at the sight. It felt like a slap on the face.

Your father was really dead, you realised as a wave of shock went through your body. They were giving you his signet ring, most likely taken off of his dead body. You wondered what had happened to the second one but you didn’t want to ask them. Maybe they had no idea about it and you wanted to keep some secrets to yourself, too.

Your hand shook slightly when you took the signet ring out of the box. Of course it was too big to fit your pinky finger but it fit on your thumb. You would ask the jeweller to adjust its size later.

You had to chew on the insides of your cheek not to burst into tears at the feeling of your father’s signet ring on your skin. Not only it made your heart ache from the grief that you were trying so hard to bury deep down but it also made you realise that your dream of becoming The Duchess Atreides had really come true.

And now you wished it hadn’t.

You turned around to face Baron Harkonnen and you kneeled, remembering very well the diplomatic protocol for such situations that you had been taught as a child, thinking it would never be useful.

“I, Duchess (Y/N) of The House Atreides, pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” you bowed down and waited for his reply.

However, he was taking his time with it and you assumed it was giving him some sort of pleasure to witness you like this – and by you he had to mean all The Atreides. The longer you were kneeling the more angry you were growing. You started to fantasise about murdering him with your own bare hands when he finally spoke up.

“May your service be accepted, Duchess Atreides.”

You tried to stand up but your legs had gotten numb already and you clumsily lost your balance for a moment. It was embarrassing enough but you felt someone’s strong hands catching you and helping you to get up.

Your husband’s hands.

You were shocked with this gesture and so was he because once you were back on your feet, he gave you a very confused look and let go of you as if your touch was poisonous.

“You are both free to go,” Baron announced and you walked out of the room as fast as possible.

When you were already on the corridor, walking side by side with Feyd in the direction of your bedroom, you waited a while to get away enough from his uncle’s throne room. Then you moved rapidly and pushed Feyd against the wall.

He would swiftly grab your wrists and twist them or break your arms, of course he would. But he had never seen it coming even in his wildest dreams that you would do such a thing. So now he was trapped between the wall and your body.

Not that he couldn’t push you away. He would easily do that but he didn’t. He only smirked at you and waited for an explanation of this behaviour.

“Why did you let him make your brother the Governor of Arrakis? It should be ours,” you hissed out.

“I do not have to explain myself to you, pet,” Feyd chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re carrying my heir, otherwise I’d break your little hands and snap your little neck,” he threatened.

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes. “You always say that.”

You saw the sparkle in his eye die off slowly as he realised you were no longer scared of him. Or at least you did not show it because it was impossible not to be scared at all.

Before he would push you away as usual when you confused him, you joined your lips together to kiss him passionately. He kissed you back just as fiercely, as if he tried to show you that it was him who was in charge. You cupped his face and moved away slightly, watching the torment in his eyes as your touch was making him feel deeply uncomfortable.

“Shh, shh,” you cooed softly like you had used to the startled horses back on Caladan, “let me, shh, just let me,” you whispered and you began to caress his cheeks with your thumbs.

And then, just like that, something in him broke and you swore you could see the pain in his eyes. A real and raw emotion, no sneering and no mockery. His muscles relaxed slightly, too. A small victory.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Feyd,” you whispered to him. “I am not like him.”

He had to be aware of his dog-like nature. He needed an owner, he had been raised this way and it was something that would not be easy to change. You just hoped he would choose an owner who was good to him rather than the one who ruled by fear and terror.

“I only want the best for you. For us,” you added carefully. “So, please, tell me why it is your brother the Governor of Arrakis and not you?”

“Because,” he took a deep breath in, “I am needed here now. My reputation amongst the people and nobility of Giedi Prime is not yet satisfying. They do not see me as a worthy successor. But that will change soon,” he promised and the look he gave you made you smirk. It was as if he waited for your approval.

“Good boy,” you praised him. “Isn’t it easier this way? When you behave?” You asked him and caressed his cheeks again.

“What are you doing to me?” He breathed out. “You’re a fucking witch.”

“No, you know I am not,” you chuckled softly. “But the feeling is mutual.”

Feyd furrowed his brows at that.

“I am drawn to you like a shark to a bleeding wound. I might enjoy it a little too much,” you confessed.

“Do you seriously think I am stupid enough not to know that you’re playing some sort of a game with me?” He asked.

“Oh, the thing is, I don’t know anymore what is a game and what is not,” you admitted.

“Na-baron,” a familiar voice interrupted you. It was the medic. “May I have a word?”

You moved away from your husband and he nodded at the medic.

“I am going back to my room,” you informed them and walked away, smiling to yourself and playing with the signet ring on your thumb.

You were laying on your bed in the evening and reading one of the books from the library as Astra and Cara were sitting on the edge and quietly working on the small diamonds attached to one of your dresses that had gotten loose overtime. You noticed that they were looking at you from time to time from the corner of their eyes as if they wanted to tell you something.

“What is it, girls?” You asked with a sigh and lowered the book down to put it on your chest.

“Oh, she’s just excited about the baby, my Lady,” Cara told you.

“You’re as excited as me!” Astra gasped at her. She looked a bit startled, perhaps afraid that you’d find it offensive.

“Come here,” you encouraged them to sit next to you and they abandoned their work to join you as they sat on both sides of you. You took their hands and placed them on your abdomen and watched their faces warm up immediately.

They were such sweet girls, you couldn’t imagine your life without them. Not so long ago you had found out how old they truly were and your heart had shattered to realise they were fifteen years old. You really had thought they were older and closer to you with age.

“I want you to train yourself in infant care,” you told them as they looked up at you. “I won’t trust anyone else with my child.”

“But, na-baroness, you will be given women who are qualified to take care of children, much more than we would ever be…” Cara tried to explain.

“They are… real women, not slaves, I mean,” Astra added. “They will feed the baby, too. We are not able to do that, my Lady.”

“I do not care,” you told them. “I will not let any of them touch my child and I will feed him myself anyway. No offence but I will not let any Harkonnen woman feed my son,” you explained. “I’m sure even your milk is polluted.”

“That is so unusual for noble women to do that, my Lady…” Cara’s eyes widened. “Did your mother feed you, too, na-baroness?”

You didn’t answer at first as her question unlocked a painful memory in your brain. It was unpleasant to remember because the truth was making you feel uncomfortable. Cara began to look scared.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me, my Lady, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“My darling, it is perfectly fine to be curious,” you answered her. “My mother died giving birth to me, remember?” You asked her.

“I’m sorry, how could I forget…” She looked down.

“It was Lady Jessica,” you whispered and they looked at you, confused. You weren’t even sure if they knew exactly who Lady Jessica had been. However, you were mostly talking to yourself at that point as your eyes were focused on the wall in front of you, absently. “I had a wet-nurse at first but when she was able to feed me as her pregnancy progressed, she took over. I still don’t know why she was doing that. Was she feeling sorry for me? An orphaned, unwanted little baby? Did my father ask her to? Was he feeling guilty? Or was she performing her Bene Gesserit witchcraft on me when I was a newborn as she fed me? I don’t know. And I will never find out,” you smiled sadly and looked at Cara again. Then, at Astra. You always wanted to make sure not to favour any of them. “Oh, how I wish you were not my slaves,” you blurted out.

“We are very happy and honoured, my Lady…” Astra started but you shushed her gently.

“No, you are not. You say that but even you know, deep down, that there could be a better life for you,” you caressed her cheek and then you caressed Cara’s.

“This is the best life we could ask for on Giedi Prime and even more, na-baroness,” Cara tried to convince you and your heart broke for them even further.

You watched them go back to the edge of the bed as they picked up the gown and continued to work on the diamonds.

You however were growing impatient. It was odd for Feyd not to come to your chamber in the evening. He would usually ask for you at that time but it was not happening tonight. You stood up and approached the doors leading to his bedroom but when you pushed them, they were locked. You were surprised.

“He locked me out,” you told your girls and they looked up. “What a bastard,” you mumbled to yourself.

You wanted to know the reason behind it and you didn’t want to let him think that you were so easy to get rid of. You left your bedroom to go out on the corridor and you approached the guards who were already staring at you with wide eyes.

“Open the doors to my husband’s chamber,” you ordered them.

“We were told not to, my Lady…” One of them informed you.

“I am your na-baroness and I command you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“We were told not to by the na-baron himself. We cannot…” He protested.

“Fine then. I am able to do it myself,” you took a step ahead to push on the doors yourself but the guard stopped you by pointing his blade at you.

Your heart skipped a beat at first but then you remembered that it was him who was in big trouble now – not you.

The doors opened anyway as shirtless Feyd stood in them and witnessed the scene taking place in front of him.

“What are those noises, what is going on here?” He growled at the guard and then looked him up and down with rage in his eyes. “How dare you point your blade at my wife?”

“Sh-she wanted to go inside your room, my Lord na-baron and you… You told us not to… Not to let anyone disturb your peace, my Lord…” The guard took a step back trying to explain himself.

“How dare you point your blade at my wife and my son?” Feyd was walking towards him slowly as he was visibly feasting on the guard’s fear.

You were tempted to watch that little scene and to witness the guard getting his proper punishment but you heard familiar giggles coming from inside of the Feyd’s bedroom. You walked inside and saw his pets on the bed, half-naked and in the middle of a heavy petting session.

He had been keeping them away from you since his fight in the arena after your wedding. You had not seen them since then and they had not shared his bed with him either because you had been occupying it every night. You couldn’t understand why he decided to do this again. It felt humiliating, especially on a day you found out about being pregnant. Especially on a day you thought you broke him a little.

You heard the guard begging and screaming but you did not care at all. Your eyes squinted at the three Harkonnen women and they smirked when they noticed you standing in the middle of the room.

“Master’s seed is growing in you, we’ve been told,” one of them hissed at you. “Good pet,” she praised you with contempt.

“And in nine months our Master will be all ours again,” the other one added. “I will eat your heart when he’s done with you,” she licked her lips in a vulgar manner, showing off her sharp teeth.

You instinctively put your hand on your abdomen to protect your child. That gesture made them sneer.

Feyd walked back inside the room as the heavy doors closed behind him. You gave him a look of disappointment.

“Get out,” he ordered.

You weren’t sure if he had been talking to you or them. But as his wife, you remained in one place and waited for his next move. However, the three pets remained in their positions as well. The atmosphere was tense. It was you or them and for a little while you really got scared that you’d lose this battle.

“I told you to get out!” He yelled at them and they startled. You had never seen him being so angry at his darlings. They gave you a very hateful look but they ran out of the room as fast as possible.

“How dare you bring your whores to this bed you share with me every night?!” You approached him when you were left alone as you pushed him fiercely. “I will not lay here again as long as I can feel their stench in the air.”

“Good,” he told you angrily and you gasped at that. What could he possibly mean…? Perhaps he didn’t find you attractive now when you were carrying a child. That could be an explanation. “You have to stay away from me,” he added.

“What are you talking about?” You dared to cup his face and he tried to push you away but your grip remained strong. “Look at me, talk to me,” you commanded.

“I can’t break you,” he finally gave up as he laid his eyes on you. “The medic said I have to stop hurting you when you’re carrying my son.”

You swore you could hear a hint of worry in his voice. It was almost delicious; you wanted to savour the feeling.

“Then don’t hurt me,” you chuckled at him.

“This is all I know,” he replied and grabbed your wrists to push you away but he did it… gently. 

You watched him turn his back on you and approach the balcony door to walk away as far as possible from you. He was broken, you thought. Well, almost. He was on the edge and he needed a little push. Just a little.

“Feyd-Rautha,” you addressed him in a harsh tone and he turned around to look at you, confused. “Come to me,” you commanded.

After a long while of silence and hesitation, slowly and carefully he began to walk towards you. You would never say that he was scared because you doubted such a word even existed in his dictionary. But he did not look as confident as usual either. When he stood in front of you like that, you suddenly realised how beautiful he was.

You had never expected to admit such a thing but he truly was stunning. Your husband was a handsome man with beautiful facial features and smooth skin on his muscular body. The moonlight creeping inside the room through the balcony door and the narrow windows was making him look even more mysterious and alluring.

You put your hands on his shoulders and then you pushed him down. Surprisingly, he gave in much more eagerly than you’d expect him to. In no time he was on his knees for you.

Oh, how exciting it was. But also… sad. You wished you could take away all the damage that had been done to him but you could not. You could only use it for your own advantage.

However, there was a new feeling blooming inside your heart. And it was not pity, it was not compassion. It was some sort of affection – disgusting, poisonous, unwanted and repulsive. You did not want to feel it but it was there and you assumed he was suffering from the same form of illness when it came to you.

“What did you do to this guard, Feyd-Rautha?” You asked him, sternly,

“I killed him,” he confessed and you hummed to yourself as you nodded.

“Would you kill for me again?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he looked up to meet your gaze.

“Any time, my Lady,” he nodded.

Completely broken. Utterly shattered. In thousands of pieces.

You smiled at him gently as you placed your hands on the back of his head softly and pressed his face to your womb. After a short while, Feyd tugged on your nightgown and his body relaxed.

A large victory.

But for some reason you didn’t feel as proud of yourself as you expected to. For some reason you just wanted to crouch down in front of him and to comfort him, to kiss him, to hold him. You shook off that feeling quickly.

“You see…?” You asked him after a while and he looked up again. His beautiful eyes had never been that confused before. “You don’t always break things,” you pointed out and caressed his head lightly.

She knows she is screwed when Doña Maribel broke the news to her that the last of the cempasuchiles were completely sold out in her shop. Making it five flower shops in the span of an hour that she walked to have fully run out of the bright orange flowers she needed for her ancestral altar that she and her abuela worked tirelessly on for the past few days. (marigolds, grandmother)

She wonders what to do next or perhaps where to go as she plays with the gravel beneath her shoes. Sure, she could walk another mile or so to another flower shop and try her luck there just as Doña Maribel suggested but she finds herself too tired to venture deeper in her small pueblo by herself. (town)

Even the walk back to her abuela’s was not something she looked forward to as of now. This was the time where she wished she had the ability to drive but alas she could not for even the streets of Mexico were more hectic and nerve wracking than back at the states. (grandmother’s)

She sighs in defeat. The cempasuchiles were the last thing on her abuela’s list of things she required for tonight’s first day of Dia de Los Muertos. The bright orange flowers illuminated the path of those who died, back into the land of the living and enjoy the offerings their family’s set up for them. (Day of the Dead)

Maybe for just tonight she could spare them.  

She sets her three mercado bags beside her as she sits down on a bench right next to a bus stop that could lead her directly to her abuela’s home. The smell of citrus of the lemon tree above her eases her disappointment and feels that this is the perfect spot to reread one of her favorite books. (shopping)

George R. R. Martin’s, Fire and Blood Vol. 1. She wondered what it was like to reside in a world of dragons (before they were all extinct), dire wolves from the North, red priestesses from Volantis, and mysterious yet powerful witches. To live inside the walls of the Red Keep and tour around the secret passageways and to fight for the rightful Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra and the other members of the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons.  

Sadly, even if it was possible to venture deep into alternate fantasy universes. It all was pure fiction. Not real. Impossible. 

‘And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed.’

“Excuse me, do you happen to know when the bus is due to arrive?” She snaps her head up meeting the most beautiful and enchanting woman she’d ever seen. Eyes round and greener than the trees itself during spring. Hair long and black like ravens in the night sky. She was tall, taller than most of the women here with skin like porcelain that had not seen a day of sun, a rarity here in Mexico. 

It was her mischievous tight lipped smile that made her feel loss of words. Unknowingly, this mysterious woman was the first person who spoke to her in English, not Spanish.

“Umm… I- I’m sorry?” 

The green eyed woman smirked as if she knew the small effect she had on her. Gods she was beautiful. 

“The bus–” 

She shook her head out of her revere, coming to reality. “Oh, I’m not sure. Perhaps a few more minutes.” She informed, pulling her mercado bags closer to her side, allowing the green eyed woman to sit, not wanting to be rude. 

She murmurs a quick thank you as she sits exceedingly close to her, shoulder to shoulder, flesh to flesh with her. Jeez, talk about personal space! However, the woman doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that she has enough space for her own person. A feeling of uncertainty rests below her gut, telling her to be vigilant around her presence.    

“How long have you waited?” She asks, breaking away the long silence between them. She almost shivers at the intensity hue of her eyes that bore right through her. 

“About ten to twelve minutes.” She replies, looking anywhere else but her. 

A satisfactory look sketched around the woman's youthful yet elderly face which she found odd. What could be so pleasing about the bus not arriving? The woman said nothing, only sitting rather straight, almost elegant in her simple long green dress. Though, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she felt hot underneath the heaviness of the velvet fabric. She sure as hell did.

“Wait, how did you know I spoke english?” She asked as the hairs on her arms stood up straight in some kind of chilling fear. 

The woman’s eyes lowered and centered on the object sitting up on her lap. “Your book gives it away.” She snickered softly, tilting her head reading the bold letters of her very worn book she got at the thrift store for just two dollars. “An interesting read.” The green eyed woman said whilst her face held no sincere fondness of it for someone who found it interesting. 

“You’ve read this before?” She asked curiously, little taken back, that she finally found someone else who read Fire and Blood Vol 1. Or anything by George R. R. Martin. 

“Yes, almost like I've lived through it” 

She opens her mouth to speak but the green eyed woman beats her to it. “I don’t mean to pry but where are you headed?” The smile falls off her face as she remembers the warning of stranger danger she learned as a kid. 

The woman must have noticed the dubious look upon her face as she threw her head back in a laugh. “I ask because it seems a storm is coming our way. And it looks like an angry one.” 

Sure enough, as she looked up the sky had turned into a deep gray with heavy clouds ready to pour any minute. Well this wasn’t forecasted in the noticias this morning, otherwise, she’d carry an umbrella. Or better yet, she wouldn’t have walked all this way if a storm was brewing. (news) 

“My cottage is not very far from here,” the green eyed woman revealed, standing up from the bench, overlooking the seriousness of the clouds. “It is just around the corner. Would you like to come?” 

She wanted to say no, that she was better off walking an hour back to her abuela’s house, even if it meant that she’d catch a cold in the pouring rain with blisters all over her feet. Besides, she did not know anything about this woman. Every bit of her mind screamed stranger danger! Don’t go!

But as she glanced between the heavy clouds and the green eyed woman with her hand extended out, all that doubt and worriment went away. 

“I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. If all goes bad, at least she had a name to tell the authorities.

“My name is Alyssandra Riveras.” The green eyed woman smiled, bowing at the waist. 

Though still somewhat skeptical, she walks alongside Alyssandra to her cottage. She makes small mental notes in her head, counting the red stop signs, right and left turns and any other landmarks of important significance. 

She was almost positive she could point her way back home. It did not help that five minutes into their journey, it started harshly pouring out of nowhere like a bucket of water had been poured all over, blanketing her vision. 

Alyssandra’s cottage had sat on the outskirts of the pueblo, isolated from all civilization, hidden around tall and green pine trees. A faint voice in the back of her head screamed to run and never look back. She ignored it.

From a close distance, she was able to distinguish a small window with overgrown vines and branches wrapped around the perimeter of the cottage. Bones, bells, and crystal windchimes hung from the roof and windows, mostly likely put up for some kind of spiritual protection. 

She was no stranger to the craft. Although raised catholic, both her mama and abuela had hung an old broom above their doorway to keep away unwanted guests and negative energies as well as pinning the mal de ojo sigil around the walls for the look of evil and envy against their family. (evil eye)

“Cempasuchiles,” she murmured in awe when Alyssandra’s small garden came into view. It was the most of the orange flowers she had ever seen, all bright and lively and huddled together. 

“When the storm is over, you can grab as many as you’d like,” Alyssandra offered, peering over her shoulder, unlocking the door to her cottage. She nods following her inside whilst giving a grateful smile. 

The interior of the cottage was small, meant only for one person to take residence. The same size as what a studio apartment would be back in the states.

In no way was the inside minimal, in fact it was the opposite. Almost all of the walls were covered with shelves with small trinkets adorning inside such as little statues, crystals, herbs and other supplies. 

In the center of the room lay a huge stone like table, old and antique bearing the resemblance of something medieval. And something about it, sent shivers down her spine along with the same faint voice, telling her to run. 

She ignored it, again. 

“Give me your belongings, and change into this,” Alyssandra says, tossing a strappy white chemise. She exchanges her poor-soaked mercado bags that contained pan de muerto, churros, and tamales for her ancestral ofrenda. (bread of the dead, offering)

She turns around to protect her modesty, seeing as there was no other room to change nor did Alyssandra point her to the bathroom, so she lifts the drenched garment over her head and sheds away the last clothing she had on her body, leaving her completely bare in her birthday suit. 

She couldn’t help but to feel Alyssandra’s eyes watching her very intently, examining every inch of her body as if it met her standards or so. She knows she should use her hands to cover up and give Alyssandra a piece of her mind, or better yet introduce her to a knuckle and hand sandwich for the way she was looking too closely.  

Yet her body feels frozen, unable to move under the green eyed woman’s gaze. 

“Would you like some tea to keep you warm?” Alyssandra asked, moseying to the kitchen. 

She blinks, whatever paralyzing feeling she had dispelled away. “Um, yes thank you.” Alyssandra nodded, pulling what looked to be a kettle on the stove. Meanwhile, she slipped on the white chemise in a hurry to not feel as exposed anymore. 

She takes the time to analyze the rest of Alyssandra’s cottage as she hears the droplets of rain hit the rooftop harder and the sound metal being filled with water. Various of the same purple flower plants were placed near the entrance, she notes to herself that these couldn’t possibly be lavender but another species or something within the same family. 

A small cot laid in the corner close by the hearth, with multiple open ancient books and scrolls spread on top of the bedspread. She almost wants to look through the pages and read Alyssandra’s interests but she doubts she could as she observes the handwriting is unreadable from where she stood. 

She walks forward to where the hearth is, feeling slightly warmer as something immediately catches her eye. Above the mantle, hung on the wall was a medium sized portrait of a small boy, appearing no more than three years old. He stood straight, almost regally with his hands behind his back. His face held no gentleness or warmth like a child should have. 

Gods forgive her, but the child looked cruel like the gueritos who bullied her in elementary school when she was just trying to make new friends. (white boys) 

Though, for an evil looking child, he sure was beautiful. The most striking thing about him was his set of eyes. Wide with his left eye a dark violet and his right a dark green similarly to Alyssandra’s. His hair was straight and cut short right below his ears. She looked closer at the portrait, thinking if her eyes deceived her as she noticed the peculiar color of the boy’s hair. 

Silver. 

Curiosity takes the better of her as she asks, “Is that your son?” 

Alyssandra turns, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Yes, that’s my beautiful little boy,” She places both glasses on the stoned table before she sits adjacent to her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her the sad look on Alyssandra’s eyes. “He looks like you,” she points out though it’s somewhat of a lie in hopes to lift up Alyssandra’s spirits.

Alyssandra throws her head back in a chortle, “For all my hard work and labor, I had hoped he looked like me but nature loves to play its cruel jokes. He is a replica of his bastard father.” The thought of her son’s father left a sour and disgusting taste in Alyssandra’s mouth. 

Alyssandra focused her attention back to her, “What about you?” She asked, sitting rather too straight. 

“Do you mean if I have kids? Gods, no.” 

Alyssandra smirked, “I take it you don’t like the idea of children. I did not either but after years of solitude, I changed my mind. I had other children before my son, but all of them died before they were due. You, however, are still young. Your mind can still change.” 

She shifted in her seat anxiously, sipping the odd taste of the herbal tea Alyssandra provided. It wasn’t like she did not like children. She respected children and found them quite cute with their little tiny hands and feet and infectious laughs. But besides the point of appearance, children were a tremendous amount of responsibility that she found herself not ready for.

Not now. Not ever. 

She could barely handle taking care of herself. Much less care and provide for a child for eighteen years or so. 

“I don’t—” 

“Oh but you will,” Alyssandra fired back without so much as blinking an eye. 

She grimaced, knowing where this conversation was heading. And it was about to be a not so pretty one. She glanced at the window by the door, the rain was still heavy if not more.

“I thank you for giving me shelter. But I really must go. I was only just supposed to be out for some groceries and my abuela is probably wondering where I am.” Polite and respectful enough just as her mama taught her.

She grabbed her belongings that were hanging by the fire and stuffed them inside her mercado bag. Her hand was on the cusp of prying the door open when Alyssandra rushed to her side, wrapping her hand around her wrist. 

“Wait. Please don’t go.” Alyssandra pleaded, “It’s just that you remind me much about myself. I didn't mean to cause offense, I’m sorry.” 

Run. Say no and run now, While you still can…

There it was again that same paralyzing feeling closing in on her feet, preventing her to move. It was strange like a shield gluing both her legs down. 

She nodded, murmuring ‘fine’ under her breath as Alyssandra slowly led her back to the woven chair with such gentleness as a porcelain doll. “I still need to call my abuela, so she can know I’m alright.” 

Alyssandra twisted her face in a wince, “I’m afraid we’re too far out for any signals to catch a telephone call.” She held back the overweening snicker to herself, it was why Alyssandra chose her cottage to be settled this far out in this very modernized realm; so no one could find her. 

Alyssandra wasn’t lying. No matter how hard she hit her Iphone against her palm or moved it around, there had not been a single signal bar glowing. She wondered if her abuela had started to grow worried and perhaps began to search for her. She hoped she didn’t and that her cousins kept her preoccupied with the rest of the decorations to notice the duration of how long she’d been out. She also wondered if they were still going to the cementerio, to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones but with the amount of thunder and rain, she’d doubt it was still on the agenda. (cemetery)

Alyssandra prepared some more tea as the fire gradually faltered down. This one had a different taste than the previous one with tiny purple petals floating around. Alyssandra watched very intently as she sipped every last drop while she scarcely touched her own mug.

The green eyed woman began asking her multiple personal questions, mostly about where she was originally from (due to the fact that her vocabulary deemed to be more vehement in English than Spanish), her family, and if she had any siblings. She had answered them all. Letting her know that she was just visiting from the states to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos with her family she had not seen since the death of her sweet abuelo. (grandfather)

Alyssandra’s eyes glimmered even more when she explained how strangely, her very stern and overprotective mama had suddenly let her travel by herself to a country she had never been to in years since she was small. Her mama preferred her to be where she could keep a close eye on her because ‘uno nunca sabe’ especially if you’re a woman. (one never knows)

It was odd, alright. Especially when her mama gave her money that she didn’t have, and enthusiastically wished her good fortune on her travels. Yup odd…

But not to Alyssandra.

Alyssandra sat down after cleaning both mugs ready to ask the hard hitting questions she’d been warming her up to. “Have you ever been with a man?” Her eyes widened before breaking rounds of deep laughter that made the sides of her ribs ache and cramp. 

However, there wasn’t an ounce of amusement displayed on Alyssandra’s face, but rather annoyance. What was so funny? It was a simple and uncomplicated question that meant no harm. At least not to her. He couldn’t harm her any more here. Alyssandra guessed perhaps it was the side effect of the tea making her humoristic. 

“No,” She replied, wiping the humoristic tears at the corner of her eyes. “The opportunity has never presented itself?” Alyssandra asked.

All the humor that previously lingered had gone swiftly away, realizing that Alyssandra was indeed asking something so personal to her. “No,” She shook her head, feeling her face hot and red. “People don’t look at me as someone they want to be with. They’d rather be with someone exciting, adventurous, and outing. And I’m neither of those things. I’m a homebody who’s idea of fun and adventure is living through fictional books.” She answered truthfully, too truthfully. 

Alyssandra watched her face transform into a deeper shade of red. “What is it?” She questioned, taking a hold of her hand, taking in the role of someone empathetic. 

“I want my first time to be special. Like the fairytales I grew up reading about with the grand Prince sweeping the young maiden off her feet and taking her to his castle…” The way her eyes reflected small flashes of light made Alyssandra almost feel guilty for her true intentions once the repercussions of the tea ran out. 

She remembers when she too wished for a dashing knight in shining armor to take her away, far away from the shit she had been through; the pain, the suffering, and the poverty. All of it. As Alyssandra grew well into her womanhood, she realized there was no knight coming to save her. Instead, there was a selfish Prince who spared her for his desires and her many talents beyond the acts of the flesh.  

But Alyssandra needed her to go. She needed that piece that was stolen from her. She didn’t want the risk of going back and facing him again and repeating through the hell and agony he put her through. So sending her for it seemed like the better alternative. 

“I know you probably think it sounds stupid–” She stammered, her face still beet red. 

“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Alyssandra softly smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. Judging by the serene look upon her face, it was a good lie that she seemed to believe. 

She smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t think of the idea of waiting for the right person was silly and unrealistic. 

Her smile deterred, sensing something trickle down her nose, dropping against the skin of her hand. 

Blood. Her blood. 

Run! 

“Alyssandra?” She whispered, puzzled at the sight of more blood spilling out of her nose. Every strand of hair in her arms stood, sensing a new type of alertness course right through her. She glanced at a very blurred Alyssandra with what looked to be a smirk written on her face. 

“W-What’s happening?” She stood from the chair, but that soon turned out to be a bad idea as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the stoned cold floor. She glanced up, watching as Alyssandra sauntered in front of her, and as much as she wanted to crawl away her body was glued to the floor. 

“Look,” Alyssandra said, crouching down at her level before she took her in her arms like a newborn baby, weighing little to nothing. “We don’t have much time. When you wake up, I need you to retrieve something of mine…” 

She felt her back collide on top of the stoned table, “What was in that tea?” She questioned but Alyssandra was quick to shush her. “It doesn’t matter now. You drank it all willingly.” There was no argument there. 

Alyssandra pulled out a jar with overflowing cempasuchil petals inside and circled the petals around her. Almost like a ritualistic circle she used to watch the brujas next door do. (witches)

“You need not to be afraid. You will not be harmed as long as you do what I say. Exactly as I say.” She gulped, nodding seeing as she had no other choice. “Bruja.” She spat but Alysssandra only chuckled, “I’ve been called much worse, little dove.” (witch)

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Alyssandra holding out a small knife. “I am in need of a sapphire. It was stolen from me many years ago. It is one of a kind, which is why when you see it you’ll know it is mine.” 

She momentarily shut her eyes as the dark haired woman rapidly cut the middle of her palm spewing her blood on top of the petals. “Once you’re successful, you’ll come back here with the sapphire and gather some of my materials. The marigold petals with your blood coating them; The blood of whom you took the sapphire from and lastly you’ll lay on top of my precious table here to be transported back.” 

There was an evil smile on her lips that she desperately wanted to punch it off. “And if I don’t get the sapphire?” She questioned. 

Alyssandra combed away her unruly braided hair, “Then I won’t bring you back and you’ll be stuck there forever.” 

Fuck. 

“Stuck? Stuck where? Where am I going?” 

Alyssandra clicked her tongue, “A place where fairy tales do not exist, my little dove.” If she wanted a Prince to sweep her off her feet. Alys would gladly give her one. 

She attempted to wiggle herself out of this pendeja’s spell but whatever Alyssandra mixed in the tea it was compelling her body to still and her eyes to slowly falter shut in a peaceful sleep. (dumbass) 

“However I should warn you, this spell is only valid until tomorrow. Until Dia de Los Muertos is over and even if you do achieve in retrieving the sapphire but it is after November second, you'll be permanently trapped with him.” 

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche

series taglist: @castellomargot @toodlesxcuddles @itsabby15 @diannnnsss @fan-goddess @zenka69 @a-beaverhausen @gabee-arts @bluebirdbts @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly @absurduty @delulumhaggy @liannafae @aaaaaamond @ilikechocolatemilkh @bellaisasleep @ammo23 @alphard-hydraes-blog

if you'd like to be tagged on my general taglist click here