PELLIS ONE to DESTINY.

                [     ...     ]               𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒   𝐀   𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘   behind   those   eyes,    one   that   must   have   attributed   to   the   reluctance    ...    and   undeniable   anger    :    no   matter   how   hard   one   tries   to   shield   their   emotions,    masking   them   steely   resistance,    the   eyes   can   never   lie.    windows   to   the   soul   are   forced   wide   open   when   faced   with   he   who   survived   the   water   of   life,    and   brought   upon   the   premonition   and   wisdom   of   millions   before   him.    "    what   war   is   won   without   taking   any   risks    ?    i'm   not   scared   of   drawing   the   first   blade,    and   striking   those   who   were   to   oppose    ...    are   you    ?    "    head   tilts,    the   mentat   emperor   speaks   of   logic   and   reason,    of   strife   and   revenge   to   those   deserving,    of   redemption   upon   a   lost   paradise   that   is   to   be   won   for   the   people   of   arrakis    —    far   from   his   father   who   ruled   with   the   power   of   his   heart.    "    i've   forseen   all   possible   futures,    and   taken   all   the   opposing   moves   i   must   draw   into   battle   and   the   defences   i   must   strengthen   to   win   it.    there's   only   one,    narrow   path   ahead   for   the   known   universe,    and   i   intend   to   carve   through   it    ...    no   matter   who   stands   in   my   way,    "    his   gaze   narrows,    a   breath   taken   in   to   pause.    "    i   don't   wish   to   spill   blood   when   it's   thoroughly   unnecessary.    if   you   don't   believe   in   our   cause,    that's   your   issue,    not   mine.    i   don't   wish   for   mindless   followers,    i   wish   for   clever   ones,    "    the   shrug   that   falls   is   without   care.    "    just   know   this    ...    there   are   only   two   sides   to   a   war.    it's   up   to   you   to   choose   the   right   one,    "  

Glawen's seen war, he's seen bloodshed, he's heard the sounds of a battlefield, he knows the controls of an imperial-class starship like the back of his hand, and could probably figure out an ornithopter if he's given more than a minute in the cockpit of one. He knows what war takes [ and takes, and takes, and takes ]. "I'm not afraid to take risks, but I prefer to take the bloodless path when it's an option." Maybe that makes him a coward. Glawen doesn't think himself a coward. In his mind, it will always be braver to try to find a way forward without turning into some hair-triggered nerve case. "I'm not a mind reader, after all. How would I know if someone really intends to oppose me?" He's trying to figure out the validity of the rumors he's heard; is Atreides psychic? Can he hear Glawen's every thought? Does he know about Bel? Seeing all possible futures seems exhausting. Predicting the paths of every single person in the universe, of the way they choose to move at every turn... Glawen likes to think that an individual can change everything. To him, Bel did. He would not be the man he is today without Bel's influence. He's lucky to have had him, even if it was only a decade. What he wouldn't do to get more time with him, to tell him everything he'd ever thought. His spine straightens a bit as Atreides mentions that bloodless path that he's been searching for. "I know war," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady, smooth, but that's always been difficult for him; his emotions are loud, both in his eyes, on his face, in the way he carries himself. "I'll follow." Even if only because he trusts what Atreides says about unnecessary bloodshed. Even if only to get himself in a cockpit again. "But know this – if I'm lied to, I'm not afraid to do what's best for myself."

❛❛  —  while this is harsh, it is war.  that comes with piles of bodies, whether or not you understand the terms of such engagement.  ❜❜  my mouth pulls into a line, and i then stand, climbing out of the chair.  ❛❛  i'm going to make a cup of tea.  you're welcome to continue discussing this with me.  ❜❜  i turn on my heel and exit, stepping out of the room.

He follows on his heels as he exits the room, trying not to have a poor reaction to the implication that he doesn't understand war. "I've been fighting since I was twenty-one. I know the terms of war." He has blood on his hands. Plenty of it. It's something he can't reconcile, never will. "But I'm willing to do what it takes. Why are you trying to talk me out of it?"

❛❛  —  isn't it?  it has always been an option, since the beginning of time.  ❜❜  his logic isn't flawed, no, but it is foolish and overly - optimistic.  my lips purse briefly before i lean back in the chair, rolling my ankle.  ❛❛  if those who don't wish to fight perish, then who are we to take that choice from them?  even in death, they had the right to wonder if it was the right thing.  you and i are aware of the circumstances, we're prepared to fight, but those who aren't  —  should we interfere?  ❜❜  my chin lowers, eyebrows jumping upward, expectant.

The coward's option is still an option, Glawen supposes, but it's not an option for him. It never was, it never has been, and he'd rather go to his own death before sitting out of a fight this important. He supposes he just doesn't understand the ability to not choose a side in this particular battle. "Being unaware of the circumstances doesn't mean someone's right to want to die under them." He's always been too much. Overly brave, overly expectant, willing to do anything in his power to keep his loved ones safe. "I can't imagine knowing freedom is an option and choosing death instead."

❛❛  i'm aware of that.  ❜❜  it isn't difficult to see that the circumstances are played against me, against us, against the rest of the universe.  ❛❛  —  surviving requires determination.  most of us have that.  it's human nature.  ❜❜  i sit back, crossing one long leg over the other.  i stare up at him, eyes hardening slightly.  ❛❛  there will be those who choose to not fight.  that isn't our responsibility.  do you understand that?  can you accept it?  ❜❜

"It's my responsibility to fight for them." Maybe they won't make that choice. But he will. He fully believes that if no one else will step up, it's his duty to do so. It's what Bel would have done. It's what Glawen must. "But neutrality, even from the sidelines of this fight, is not an option anymore." Is he brave? Or is he just stupid?

@pellisone. ♡

"That makes two of us, then." He's got the scars - both physical and emotional - to prove it. "Tough, when the odds're stacked against you."

ONLY   FOOLS   WASTE   WATER   CARELESSLY       ⸺       crysknife   clutched   between   nimble   fingers   sihaya   bends,   loyal   fedaykin   flanking   her   sides.   the   desert   spring   goes   nowhere   without   protection.   muad'dib   wills   it.   and   so   it   is   done.   she   is   a   precious   commodity.        ❝        ahbal!        ❞       sihaya   spits,   colbat   eyes   rolling,   the   whites   of   them   visible   for   few   precious   seconds.   irritation   bore   teeth   to   noon   day   sun.   off   worlders   will   never   grasp   how   arrakis   can   cleanse   them,   offer   other   paths.   something   better.   power   has   shifted   once   more,   from   harkonnen   to   atreides,   now   the   empire   finds   seat   in   arrakeen,   crowded   once   more.           ❝        your   use   has   not   expended.        ❞        

The empire has wanted him dead for six years. Maybe more than six years. Glawen couldn't tell you when they first decided they'd tired of him; perhaps it was when he married Bel. Perhaps it was before even that. Perhaps they expected Bel to run him into the ground, to kill him through work. Now that Bel's been killed by their hand, and Glawen's survived Selusa Secundus, they attempted to kill him on Arrakis instead... shame their timing was poor, isn't it. Shame he can put up a fight, as evident by the scars on his face, his arms, his body. Now, Glawen is unarmed, and he knows the danger of a crysknife. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He's tired. He misses his husband, misses a normal life that they never got to have. He's got nothing to lose, because he's already lost it all. "My use..." he repeats, a pathetic sort of laugh escaping him. He gestures out from his sides, a motion of what's the point. The sun is hot, the planet is hot... he could kneel down here and die and that would be the end. He'd wake with Bel's calloused hand on his cheek, in his hair, and it would be worth it. "What use do I have to you?"

             [     ...     ]               𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐈𝐒   clear   and   simple    ...    much   like   many   paths   have   become   after   he   freed   himself   with   the   water   of   life.    azurian   watches   glawen   curiously,    studying   him,    learning   of   all   his   faults   and   triumps    ...    regrets   and   prized   memories    :    the   sardaukar   before   him   is   no   mere   soldier,    but   one   that   is   riddled   in   battle   scars   that   speak   of   earned   victories.    as   expected   as   of   those   who   have   survived   coming   from   hell   and   back,    a   thousand   times   over.    many   those   who   have   lived   through   salusa   secundus   have   lost   themselves   in   their   prison   planet    ;    rotted   into   silent   decay   as   they   became   nothing   but   an   emperor's   chess   piece   in   his   many   wars   and   assertions   of   power.    "    i   see   you   returning   to   your   former   glory,    "    his   head   tilts,    hues   following   the   other   male's   features   to   watch   his   reactions.    careful,    and   eternally   cautionary    —    even   if   he's   ascended   to   messiah,    one   can   never   be   too   use   of   those   who   would   willingly   try   to   oppose   god.    "    becoming   more   than    ...    this.    leading   your   own   battalion,    piloting   your   own   fleet   of   ships,    supporting   me   in   my   cause,    "    his   words   speak   of   responsibilities   heavier   than   one   man   can   burden,    certainly    :    but   glawen   isn't   just   any   man,    is   he    ?    "    i   see   new   beginnings.    redemption,    even,    "

In his thirty-five years, Glawen has seen many a commander, many a leader. There will never be one that comes close to comparing to Bel, of course, in either the personal or professional sense. The empire had wanted to make an example of his husband, of Glawen himself. It's a fucking miracle he'd survived Salusa Secundus. Many don't. Glawen has never wanted to be an unthinking pawn. It's something he learned from his family, a trait only heightened when he met Bel. Bel, whose only crime was defiance. Defiance in order to save lives. In honor of his memory, Glawen will not allow himself to become a pawn for another leader. He will follow, but never blindly. He will obey, but not without question. That is the risk one must take if they want Glawen Curr in their service after the death of Bel Riose. Is it a risk the young Atreides is willing to take? "In battle, you mean," he states when Atreides - Muad'dib, Lisan Al-Gaib, whatever he'd prefer to be called these days - mentions his former glory. Glawen was, undeniably, the best of the best. He's almost certain it's part of the reason they tried to kill him just as they tried to kill Bel. He is no icon, not in the way Bel was, but his is a name whispered amongst the pilots of the universe. He's a difficult talent to find, and even more difficult to replace. Glawen keeps his face neutral, unchanging. He isn't sure what skills this messiah has - unsure what is rumor and what is truth - but he won't have his expression read like an open book, even if his mind is one. "A risk, putting me in a cockpit again," he says, his voice just as smooth, just as even as his face, Jennisekian accent coating his words. "Especially for an emperor." Has Atreides not also claimed the throne of Shaddam IV? House Corrino has lost Glawen's loyalty. Will House Atreides manage to gain it? "Redemption..." he repeats, tone now bordering on amusement. "In the eyes of who, exactly?" He holds back the words he'd prefer – he never wanted redemption. He wants revenge.

requested by @donut-interact 💜

             [     ...     ]               𝐆𝐎𝐃   𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒   𝐇𝐄'𝐒   not   perfect    :    flawed   in   all   the   ways   a   deity   shouldn't   be,    and   yet   there   he   stands    —    a   GOD   AMONGST   MEN,    power   beyond   what   anyone   could   have   imagined,    billions   under   his   thumb   as   he   wages   a   war   in   his   father's   name.    any   regrets   or   fears   he   might   have   had   is   kept   under   lock   and   key,    pandora's   box   casted   into   the   deepest   depths   of   himself   until   he   becomes   as   close   to   holy   as   any   mortal   could   be.    "    keeping   something   like   that   within   your   thoughts   will   only   drive   you   mad,    "    gaze   set   on   @pellisone,    words   well-meaning   and   told   through   experience.    many   things   can   kill   the   mind    ;    decaying   inhibitions   until   it   settles   into   rot,    and   glawen's   thoughts   are   certainly   one   of   them.    "    i   wouldn't   want   to   see   you   meet   your   end   just   yet.    not   when   you   have   a   road   far   beyond   what   you   can   see,    "

Glawen has seen much of the galaxy, much of the universe. There were benefits to being Sardaukar; it was a position he'd worked hard for, trained up to become for years. He has done things he regrets. Hasn't everyone? Here he stands, in front of a man - barely a man, to Glawen's eyes, more a boy - a man who claims himself god. In all of Glawen's travels, he had heard of many gods, many messiahs, though he had never laid eyes on one. The universe is a large place. Now that he wanders it without Bel, without the titles he'd worked so hard to earn, he finds himself lost. He will hold the memory of his husband close, never to marry again. He'd made an oath, a thousand vows on a thousand planets; he wouldn't let himself forget that. And he wouldn't allow himself to forget the empire that sent his husband to death for being braver than they could ever dream to be. He knows there’s truth in this messiah’s words; when his mother lost his mater, she barely ate, barely spoke, for months. If it hadn’t been for Glawen, she may have descended into true madness. What does he have tethering himself to reality? Bel and the rest of his crew are just memories now, he's long past Jennisek, there's no going home to live a normal life. All he has is himself and Bel’s badge around his neck, tucked into his shirt, kept warm against his chest. This messiah claims to see something ahead for Glawen. He's not stupid, he knows what's happened to Atreides as a house, but young Paul has an army of his own, now. He doesn't need to replace his father's men, because he has. Perhaps these Fremen can't pilot a starship, though. And there's no one in the universe who can pilot a starship the way Glawen can; if he's certain of one thing, it's that. "What do you see for me, if there's a path I cannot?"