#rautha

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55200823/chapters/161463349

Here is a little sneak peek for those curious about the story. This is chapter 37 though - so there is quite a bit of backstory. I have developed a hybrid of the movie and novels so that it is as close to *likely* as possible. I relate much imagery and quotes to keep it relative of their original content.

“Na-Baron?”

I shook his arm.

The motion snapped Feyd out of his daze. He frowned. “Don’t call me that.”

“Your uncle. He-he’s dead.” I said.

No one comprehended it. The Emperors room was not in chaos. It was not mourning. It was nothing. 

We stared in disbelief at the slain body of an evil man and the state he was left in after the poison took him.

Feyd was the next in line. He was the sole heir of the Barons legacy. 

“You’re Baron now,” I murmured.

“There is more to come,” he snipped below his breath. “It is not over.”

“What do you mean? He is dead.”

Another rumbling held the air hostage. A violent shaking hit the ship.

Loud cracking of the ground split from outside the Emperors ship. It sounded like the world was cracked in half by a mighty eruption.

Feyd turned to me and began to speak, but nothing came out.

We were tossed from steady ground. The ship jostled.

Everyone was thrown in disarray around the room. Soldiers spears rolled from their hands when they collided with the floor. Their chorus of grunts and skulls cracked with each violent motion.

Rock and metal catapulted inside. Soldiers on the dais jumped over the Emperor to guard his body.

Princess Irulan ducked down and covered her head with her arms.

Feyd and I were closer to the projectiles. A large sheet of metal plating from outside the ship grazed his side. It broke the plate of his armored suit. He winced as the pieces protruded into his side.

The might of the blast knocked me off my feet. I fell backwards onto my bottom. My hands caught back against the floor before I hit my head.

Feyd helped me to stand; his arms lifted me like I was nothing.

A hole with jagged edges ripped through the ship let in the hot intensity of Arrakis. It wafted in thick waves through the hole. The comfort of the room dissipated.

“Are you well?” Feyd asked.

“Forget about me. Your side. You have to be bleeding!” I gushed.

The armored plate was deformed and sunken in. Feyd’s side was not visible, yet it was vulnerable thanks to this plate being broken.

I pressed my palm against it. It was not slick with any liquid.

“It will bruise,” he murmured. “That is all.”

Sardaukar soldiers slowly made their way up from the floor toward the hole. Their eyes widened. The sight outside rendered them speechless.

“What?” The Emperor declared. “What is it?”

They stayed silent. Many of them stood at the hole staring out into the deserts beyond with the glare of day within their eyes.

“Speak. Speak, I command you! What do you see?” He tried again.

Their silence was not the ringing of good news.

“Feyd?” I whispered.

I was not taught in the ways of war. What happened to us – or was to come – was out of my realm of understanding.