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inkofthebrain · 4 months ago

Text

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1113 Words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of yin, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

Previous Chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

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Nine———

Everyone in their right mind knows not to stop a charging bride so the guards didn’t even lift a finger as you marched towards the lush estate gardens.

Caladan has become less daunting the more time you spend there, you only wish it will be the same for the landscape of desert you have been sentenced too. Your thoughts consume you, racing past behind you eyes and gone before you were to process them, as your feet patter off path to a small clearing by the cliff side.

Your eyes gazed over the crashing waves against the resistance of the cliff side and fate came to mind; when does it not. You never really believed in it but you have come to the realization that with enough time and planning, anything could be orchestrated.

Your fate in particular seemed to have been thousands of years in the making, and while you have tried to fight against it similar to the angry waves beating the stone—-the tide will always succumb to the earth.

The salty air entered your nostrils with a swift inhale as you attempted to soothe your aching heart. The emotion was somewhere between grief and anger for both your father and your stolen fate.

You lifted your left hand and examined your ring before adjusting it slightly, there was no method to your movements, you just needed something physical to bring you out of your head.

And that is exactly what happened when you felt a hand brush your shoulder. You instantly whipped around to see who had caught you, but all you saw was Paul.

“We have a reception to attend, you know” His tone was rather playful, despite the fact you charged away before any words could be exchanged.

You tired back to the water before speaking, Paul following shortly to your side. The friendliness between the two of you was comfortable, You both kept each other within an arm's reach both physically and emotionally. A fine line seen all too often in these marriages.

“I’m Empress, aren’t I to do what I please?” You quip.

“If only it were that easy”

“If only”

A comforting silence fell between the two of you as you soaked in the view. Who knew the last time you would see such vast oceans. Maybe Paul did. You had no idea of knowing.

His gifts were quite alarming at first but a clear symptom of his spice agony. Drinking the water of life is a pain you have only had the horror of hearing about from your fathers truthsayer. It was a brutal ritual not even the Sardukar could endure.

The lives of so many others entering your mind, the multitudes of paths, the multitudes of potential. All while retaining your current wants and desires. The bile had heightened almost every part of him, his intelligence, his fears, and the crushing sensation of a will not of your own.

“Tell me about Arakkis?” You asked him

“It’s baren, and the heat follows you everywhere and—“

“Not a Definition, Paul. About your time there. I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”

You were terrified to be thrown into his world. Adjusting to a foreign culture is always strenuous but being implanted in one where your betrothed is their messiah? It was hard to tell if the people would accept you or reject your legitimacy as a bride to their mahdi.

His lips straightened into a tight line as he pondered where to start but like most things in the imperium, it was nipped in the bud before it would foster. You heard Delia’s stride approaching from behind.

“While I love to see the new Emperor and Empress basking in one another’s company, there are quite a few important people who are expecting the both of you very soon.” Her hands were clasped down at her waist as she attentively waited. You nod your head and let out a small hum before turning away from the view.

“I have another quick change, hm?” You question, Delia Humors your small remark and lets out a small laugh before nodding her head.

“I’ll see you there, husband.” The word felt like a dagger shooting through Paul. As you stepped away with Delia, Paul continued to ponder on what his life has succumbed to.

He had just married a woman he barely knew, all the while leaving the woman who brought him to be the person he is now behind in the dust. He hadn’t told you about Chani, yet somehow there was an unspoken agreement between you two that some things were to be left unsaid. This was a political marriage after all.

Chani despised him, he had risen above her after swearing he would be equal to her. Now he is her emperor, her new suppressor. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if the path he was blindly leading you down would leave you hating him as well. Maybe that’s how it was fated to be.

———

Delia had you re-pampered in all your imperial glory as you were thrown into a room of hungry politically driven wolves with Paul at your side.

After lists of warm wishes and congratulations, many of said wolves dove in for the kill. Presenting the two of you with ideas, requests, and comments on their states. Everyone was there, from planetary governors to heads of houses, all for the same greedy purpose; power.

Connections mean everything in this court, you are unlikely to get far without them. This is what you were taught from a very young age, both false and true connections. Double sided “friendship” and backhanded comments on current policies were all the rage as you and Paul were forced to parade yourselves around the large room.

Once you and Paul were able to seclude yourselves in a far corner you decided it was time for politics.

“We need a new truth-sayer, I cannot bear the thought of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam attempting to further stir my fathers corruption into our future.” You turned to face him, “she is all but fond of you”

Paul let out a short chuckle, “That I am very aware of. The Bene Gesserit are not my biggest supporters.”

You let out a small hum in response, “Your mother?”

Paul shook his head, “She is the Fremen’s, we mustn’t take her from them. Not after they have just gained their Dune back” With a nod of your head and the clasping of your hands, you direct your attention to the rest of the room. Trying to predict who wants to make a proposition next. Trying to predict where your future would take you.

———

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inkofthebrain · 7 months ago

Text

Imperial

[Paul x F!Reader] 3013 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions.

A/n: Yeahhhh let’s goooo. We actually see Paul! Requests are open for one shots, imagines, and more. Check out the new request section of my master-list for my character lists!

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Five———

[Five days before the ceremony]

As you open your eyes, you feel a sense of deja vu wash over you. Yesterday's events come rushing back, and you can't help but feel a wave of exhaustion and dread.

You sit up slowly, shaking off the lingering remnants of sleep. It takes you a moment to fully orient yourself, but you soon remember where you are and what has happened.

"Is it time already?" you ask, your voice hoarse and dry.

"Yes it is, Lady Jessica instructed I let you sleep in for a few hours. It's early afternoon my lady" Delia says, opening your curtains.

You groan softly, feeling the weight of fatigue settle in your bones. The thought of yet more preparations and appointments fills you with a mixture of anticipation and resignation.

"Very well," you say, sighing. "Let us proceed."

The exhaustion was getting to you.

You follow Delia out of your chambers, your footsteps slow and heavy. You know that the countdown to the wedding has begun, and with each passing day, the pressure and expectations grow heavier.

You wonder who this day's appointments will be with, and what tasks you will have to face. You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself for what lies ahead.

As you and Delia traverse the hallways you look up in surprise as Paul appears around the corner, his expression serious and intense.

"My lady, may I speak with you? In private?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

Soon you nod, gesturing to a nearby empty chamber.

"Of course, my lord," you say, your voice soft and demure. "We can speak privately here."

You follow Paul into the small, secluded chamber, feeling a thrill of anticipation and nervousness. You have spoken to him before in meetings and at dinner, but never in private. You were acquaintances. What does he want to discuss with you so urgently?

Once the door closes he turns to you, "Are you ok?"

You nod tentatively. "Yes," you say softly, but the tone of your voice betrays the lie. You cannot deny the exhaustion and tension that has built up since your arrival on caladan.

"I am just... worn out from the day's events" you say, knowing full well that such an answer falls well short of the truth.

"You have been asleep all day" he states, catching you in your lie. "My mother told me about the early morning. I apologize for the pain that was caused"

You glance up at him, stunned by his sudden show of concern. You have never seen him express empathy, much less sympathy, towards anyone. There is a genuine warmth to his voice, and you feel a prickle of confusion at his behavior.

"It is not your fault," you say gently, forcing out a smile.

"It is the way of things. And it was necessary to determine if I would be strong enough for what lies ahead."

"Still", he says, his tone softening. "It can't have been pleasant. my apology stands." he pauses for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. Then he continues, "My mothers entire process is barbaric. No one should have to endure such things. I did not expect her to extend her horrors to you"

You nod. "Our lives are not in our hands"

He nods, seeming to understand the truth behind your words. "Perhaps that is the hardest part", he says. "The knowledge that we have no real control over our own lives. That everything we do is predestined, and the path we follow has already been laid out for us."

You feel a sense of companionship wash over you as he speaks. Here is someone who truly understands, someone who gets it. You know who has had this feeling before, and the realization makes your heart ache.

Paul pauses for a moment, as if searching for the right words to say next. Then he continues, his tone softer and more candid than you have ever heard it before.

"I sense the loneliness within you", he says, "the sense of being trapped and isolated, no matter how many people surround you."

Paul's spice tinted eyes meet yours, and for a few breaths, there is an undeniable tension between you. Then he says, barely above a whisper, "I know the darkness that haunts you." Your breath catches in your throat, as if he had reached into your soul and grasped hold of your deepest fears. You want to pull away, to maintain distance and keep your emotions in check.

You have never shared these thoughts, these feelings, with anyone. But in him, you suddenly feel the urge to bare all, to open yourself to him completely.

"i've been dreaming of Arrakis" You Mutter

He smiles at you, a faint spark of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Nightmares, I assume," he says.

There is a hint of sadness in his voice, as if he knows all too well what that particular dream means. You notice the way his gaze lingers on your face, and you wonder how much he truly knows of your inner struggles and insecurities.

You nod silently, unable to deny or dismiss the truth of the statement. Even though you had grown used to having nightmares about arrakis, this one had been particularly vivid and unsettling. You can still feel the terror of the desert and the endless sand dunes, the crushing sense of doom and helplessness.

The silence hangs heavy between you, thick and taut with unspoken sentiment.

Paul searches your eyes briefly, and then he speaks, his voice just above a whisper. "Your dreams...they tell me that you are afraid, more afraid than you have let yourself admit. Even here, in this safe space, you cannot let go of the anxiety that haunts you."

You nod, feeling yourself grow flushed as his words strike a nerve. You have worked hard to conceal your fears, to portray a facade of strength and resilience. But here, in front of him, in this moment of intimate connection and understanding, you feel yourself succumbing to his perceptive nature.

"You see too much", you say quietly, unable to deny the truth of his words.

"Perhaps I do", he says, his voice soft and sincere. “The people view us as messiahs." He takes a breath.

"It's all fabrication, and we are bound to it by duty" he sighs

You nod, understanding the weight of the expectations that surround you. "Yes, we are puppets on strings, pulled in different directions by the desires of those who hold power. they seek to use us for their own ends, and we have no choice but to play our part."

Paul pauses, his eyes hardening slightly. "But we cannot allow them to define who we truly are. Inside, beyond this facade of duty and obligation, we are still our own people. we still have our own thoughts and feelings, our own desires and dreams."

"we each have a choice", he continues, "to surrender to

those expectations and allow them to define who we are. or to cling on to our own truth, despite the consequences."

He meets your gaze, and his words carry an intensity and urgency that resonates deep within your soul.

"I promise you," he says, looking into your eyes with a serious conviction, "That whatever choice you make, whatever price you must pay, I will be by your side to shoulder the burden as long as you extend that courtesy to me as well." You nod, taking a deep breath.

“I too have a truth I wish to cling to" he says before wiping a tear from your cheek which you had not noticed fell. “I unfortunately must depart, I have a security meeting for the ceremony" he says.

"Of course", you say, your voice straining with emotion.

"Do what you must. But promise me one thing..."

"What is it?", he asks, his voice still tinged with sympathy and concern.

You take a deep breath, feeling the lingering effect of his touch on your skin. You feel the urge to speak what is in your heart, to lay bare your feelings for him, your desire for him. But you manage to reign in the impulse, and try to maintain a sense of decorum.

"That we will see each other again, before we are made husband and wife", you say, your voice faltering slightly.

He nods softly, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He understands the deep significance of this brief exchange, and the desire behind your request.

"I promise", he says, his gaze intense and sincere. "We will see each other again, and when we do, much will be made clear. Until then, take care of yourself, and remain true to your heart. It’s far from over”

"I must go now," he says, "the ceremony is only five days away, and there is much to be done before then. but rest assured" he adds, his gaze lingering on you. "we will meet again."

The following two days were filled with dress fittings, floral arrangement and decor selection, cake tasting, and many meetings.

———

[Three days before the ceremony]

The entire palace was transformed into a flurry of activity, the servants bustling around and preparing everything for the ceremony. As the bride-to-be, the majority of the preparations fell to you and your family. But unlike many girls approaching their wedding day, you had no expectations or excitement. Instead, your thoughts were consumed by the impending reunion with Paul and the knowledge of the difficult days ahead.

The mornings were typically the only time you had to yourself. You were seated adjacent to your bedroom window, looking out at the sea as you reminisced on your upbringing.

You remember being escorted through the halls of the imperial palace, your eyes drifting past the grand spectacles of art and decor to the various courtiers and officials who moved like pawns across the board.

The emperor's hand gripped yours tightly, his eyes scanning the crowded halls for threats and vulnerabilities. His presence was a shadow cast over your childhood, looming large with power and influence.

You remember the countless hours spent in tedious lessons and tutelage, the endless nights spent studying ancient history and political theory. You remember feeling a deep sense of loneliness and isolation, a sense of being confined within the walls of the imperial palace.

Irulan was easily manipulated. That is what he desired. You were a threat to him.

It was his choice to not have you trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit like your sister. He feared the power you would hold.

You feel a sudden surge of resentment at this thought. He viewed you as a threat to his own power, not a worthy successor.

The emperor never truly understood the depths of your spirit, or your innate drive for greatness. He feared you and sought to destroy you before you could discover your potential.

The resentment grows as you recall all the ways you could have been trained and guided, only to be denied those opportunities. you could have been an even greater asset to the imperial house, but he denied you that chance.

"You cannot stop fate, father" you whisper aloud to yourself.

As you wandered through the halls, being transported from chamber to chamber to meet with various specialists, you felt increasingly overwhelmed and anxious. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, and you started to turn but immediately recognized Paul's firm grasp.

You wheeled around to face him, feeling a rush of relief and excitement as you saw his familiar face. Paul had appeared like a ghost in a forest, seemingly coming out of nowhere. but you were not surprised at his sudden presence, knowing the importance of this reunion.

"Well, the bride finally decides to make her appearance" he says with a faint smile, his gaze raking over your dress and appearance, taking in the details. But there is more than mockery and scorn in his expression, there is something deep and genuine.

You feel the corners of your mouth curve in a smile despite yourself, and you notice the gleam in his eyes.

"I trust they have been spoiling you?" he asks, gesturing to the entourage of servants surrounding you.

You nod, and try not to roll your eyes. "yes, they have been treating me like royalty", you say with a slight hint of mockery. "One might have forgotten that I am the subject of an arranged marriage and will not have much choice in the actual wedding itself."

Paul smirks slightly at your snarky reply, seeming to enjoy your spirited response.

"You know how it goes. it is all for the sake of appearances," he says, his tone tinged with irony. "The bride must be pampered and celebrated, even if she has little desire for the event itself."

"And what of the groom?" You ask

Paul pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering with amusement. "The groom may be equally disinterested, but he is expected to go along with the rituals and play his part. The pressure is not so great, but nonetheless a burden of duty must be shouldered."

Paul pauses, his eyes glancing beyond your shoulder, towards the swarm of servants. He gestures to them,

"But they seem quite dedicated to doing their part, so how about you let them continue to spoil you for another moment. And in the meantime, I will show you something"

he takes your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. You are surprised at the gentleness, the sudden shift in his demeanor. you allow him to lead you away from the flurry of activity, following him down a labyrinth of hallways and through several doors.

After a few minutes of walking, you arrive in a spacious office. Paul releases your arm and gestures for you to take a seat. He sits down opposite you, his expression grave and serious.

"This is something that cannot wait until the actual ceremony,” he says. "it is important that we discuss it now."

Paul's manner shifts as his mother enters the room. His expression becomes more formally composed, and he rises to his feet, offering her a slight nod.

Jessica responds in kind, the two offering silent greetings as she moves into the center of the room. You notice a slight softening in her demeanor as her son joins her, as if the two are united in this situation, however difficult it may be.

"You will not be fond of what must be done," Jessica begins

You flinch slightly at her direct statement, prepared for the news that is about to be delivered. But you also trust her wisdom and foresight, hoping that her words will provide some insight or guidance.

You study her face, noting the slight creases around her eyes and mouth, the weariness and stress apparent in her demeanor. She stands in firm control of her emotions, her tone composed and firm.

"Your father is to be charged with the attempted ratification of the Atreides house during his reign as emperor by the Great Houses of the Imperium. As Paul has been foreseen to ascend to take his place they have decided his ploy was an attempt to hoard the throne." She pauses. "He is to be executed shortly after the coronation of you as Empress and Paul as emperor"

The air is suddenly sucked out of your lungs as you feel this bombshell land in your chest.

Your father, charged with treason against the house and facing execution. For all his faults, the emperor was still your father, he shaped your life and protected you from the horrors of court life.

Your vision blurs, and your ears ring with a buzzing sound. You want to reach out to Paul or Jessica, but your limbs feel stiff and numb.

"I know this is difficult", Paul says, his voice soft but steady. "Your father was your father after all. But he had his own agenda, his own aspirations. He never desired for you to succeed him, much less become empress."

"But this changes nothing", paul says, his tone growing firm, conviction in his words despite the tragedy of the situation. "Your father has made his bed, and he must now lie in it. The ceremony will proceed as planned, and we will not allow his actions to stand in the way of our house and our destiny."

You nod, although it is with reluctance and sorrow. but you understand, deep down, that this is the only path forward. Your father may have once loved you in his own way, but he was also a man of ambition and status.

Paul and Jessica exchange a look, their expressions both sympathetic and resolute. Paul releases your hands, moving back to the center of the room.

"We will not let your father's actions deter us from our course. The ceremony will proceed, and you will be crowned as empress of the known universe."

Your breath catches in your throat as you absorb the significance of his words. You are to be the empress of the known universe, but at what cost? Your father, once so feared and powerful, now facing execution at the hands of what once was his Imperium.

You close your eyes, trying to push back against the flood of emotions threatening to sweep you away. You have no say in this matter.

"I understand", you say firmly, though your voice still trembles with grief and shock.

You feel two sets of eyes upon you, observing your response. You sense Paul's firm, almost resolute gaze, his presence a steadying force. Meanwhile, Jessica's eyes are filled with a subtle blend of sympathy and determination.

Her voice breaks the silence, her tone full of both sorrow and resolution. "You will be the greatest empress in the existence of this empire," she declares, the conviction in her voice unwavering. "Your father's legacy will fade as the empire embraces a new future with you. your father will never control you again."

———

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