#and dune has a massive plot with layers within layers

[italoniponic]

someone tell me why it took me the entire Dune: Part 2 runtime + the dinner after the movie to notice that Thufir Hawat simply disappeared? NO SERIOUSLY LOL

book Hawat @ Baron / movie Hawat

[novaursa]

Of Gods and Men (dreams)

This is Dune/GOT/HOTD/FAB/ASOIAF crossover AU that you've voted for. If you always wanted to see House Targaryen in space, I got you. Please note how some of the lore of both universes is bent to blend in both worlds. This is my original idea that I've been cooking for at least two years. Be gentle with my work, and enjoy the ride.

- Summary: House Targaryen survives their ancient exile after being overthrown by House Corrino and the Bene Gesserit. Fleeing to the unknown planet Albiron, the Targaryens build a hidden civilization powered by drakaon crystals, reviving their dragons and creating advanced technology. Millennia later, whispers of their survival begin to surface as the Bene Gesserit confront a mysterious Red Woman on Arrakis, who warns of a coming Prince That Was Promised destined to challenge their control. The Targaryens secretly prepare to return, ready to reclaim their legacy.

- Paring: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies

- Note: For more details about House Targaryen and their technology, please check out the masterlist.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: hope

- Next part: horizon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The skies of Giedi Prime were always dark, the polluted clouds swirling above casting a shadow over the industrial wasteland below. Inside the fortress of House Harkonnen, the air was thick with the smell of machinery and oil, a sharp contrast to the cold, calculating minds that plotted within its walls.

In a grand chamber adorned with banners bearing the Harkonnen sigil, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen lounged in his suspensor chair, its mechanisms humming softly as they lifted his massive form just above the polished floor. Across from him stood Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, her dark robes flowing around her like the shadows themselves, her face half-hidden beneath the hood that shrouded her features.

The Baron studied her with a thin, oily smile, but there was a glint of caution in his eyes. “Ah, Reverend Mother, how generous of you to visit my humble home. To what do I owe the pleasure of this... surprise audience?”

The Reverend Mother did not return his smile. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, bored into him as if seeking to strip away the layers of deceit that clung to him like a second skin. “The Emperor has decided that the time has come to resolve the Atreides problem once and for all,” she said, her voice cold and precise. “He is preparing to send his Sardaukar to Arrakis to eliminate House Atreides—to crush them utterly. And to cleanse the influence of the Red Faith that has taken root in the desert.”

The Baron’s smile widened at her words, his suspensors shifting as he leaned forward slightly. “Ah, so our illustrious Emperor finally makes his move. And here I thought he was content to let the Atreides pup play in his new sandbox a while longer.” His tone was mocking, but there was an edge of eagerness to it.

The Reverend Mother’s gaze hardened. “Do not mistake this for leniency, Baron. The Emperor's Sardaukar will cleanse Arrakis of the Atreides stain, but there are conditions. Lady Jessica and her son, Paul, must be left unharmed. They are of great interest to the Sisterhood, and our plans for them must not be... disrupted.”

The Baron’s expression twisted into a sneer, but he inclined his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Of course, Reverend Mother. House Harkonnen lives only to serve the Emperor and the Sisterhood. If it is your wish that the witch and her brat be spared, then it shall be done.”

The Reverend Mother studied him for a moment longer, as if weighing the truth behind his words. “See that it is,” she said finally. “And be aware, Baron—there have been... disturbing reports of Targaryen presence in the deep desert. Their alliance with House Atreides complicates matters, but the Sisterhood has no intention of allowing these... dragons to become a new power in the Imperium.”

At the mention of the Targaryens, the Baron’s eyes narrowed, a flash of genuine unease passing across his face before he quickly masked it with another smile. “I assure you, Reverend Mother, I will deal with any... remnants of the dragonlords that dare show themselves. Arrakis is mine by right, and no long-lost exiles will change that.”

The Reverend Mother inclined her head, accepting his words for now. “See that you do, Baron. The Sisterhood and the Emperor will be watching closely. Do not disappoint us.” With that, she turned, her robes sweeping around her as she departed the chamber, leaving only the faint echo of her footsteps behind.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the Baron’s smile faded, his expression twisting into a mask of contempt. He pressed a button on his suspensor controls, and a side door slid open, revealing Pieter de Vries, his Mentat, who had been lurking in the shadows. The Baron gestured him forward with a flick of his wrist.

“Did you hear that, Pieter?” the Baron growled, his voice low and filled with barely contained rage. “The Reverend Mother thinks she can come here, make demands, and expect me to dance to her tune. But I am no puppet to be manipulated by the Sisterhood or the Emperor.”

Pieter’s lips twisted into a thin smile, his calculating eyes gleaming. “Indeed, my Baron. It seems they underestimate your... ambitions. But surely, we can turn this situation to our advantage.”

The Baron’s expression darkened, his hands clenching into fists. “Oh, we will, Pieter. The Emperor will get his war, and his precious Sardaukar can wipe out House Atreides. But make no mistake—I will ensure that none of the Atreides leave Arrakis alive, not even that witch Jessica or her accursed son.”

Pieter nodded, his mind already racing through the possibilities, analyzing the outcomes and angles. “The Emperor will not care how it is done, so long as House Atreides is removed as a threat. And with the Targaryens involved, there may be... opportunities to sow further chaos.”

The Baron’s smile returned, colder and more vicious than before. “Yes... the dragons. They think they can reclaim their place in the Imperium, but they will learn the price of defying House Harkonnen. Let them come, let them play their games in the desert. It will only make their fall all the more satisfying.”

He leaned back in his suspensor chair, the hum of the machinery filling the chamber as he envisioned the destruction to come. “Prepare our forces, Pieter. And make sure our allies are ready. Arrakis will burn... and with it, House Atreides and any dragons foolish enough to stand with them.”

Pieter bowed slightly, his smile mirroring the cruelty of his master’s. “As you command, my Baron.”

As the Mentat turned to carry out his orders, the Baron’s laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound that held no warmth, only the promise of violence and betrayal. And above the smog-choked skies of Giedi Prime, the shadows deepened, heralding the coming storm that would shake the Imperium to its core.

Duke Leto Atreides stood in his study, overlooking the bustling city of Arrakeen from the high windows of the Atreides stronghold. The desert stretched endlessly beyond the city walls, shimmering under the intense sun, but Leto’s attention was fixed on the reports spread across his desk. The room was cool, the hum of the air processors a faint background noise, but Leto’s thoughts were far from serene.

Thufir Hawat stood beside him, detailing the results of the latest shipment of spice harvested using the two new Targaryen harvesters. Leto’s gaze swept over the holo-projections, showing the precise spice yields, the efficiency rates, and the safety margins that far exceeded anything their Imperial models had managed before.

“It’s... remarkable, Hawat,” Leto said, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. “The harvesters have exceeded all our expectations. They’re faster, quieter, and their ability to operate without attracting sandworms is nothing short of revolutionary. We’re producing more spice with fewer losses, and our carryall deployments have become almost unnecessary.”

Hawat nodded, the faint lines of a smile playing at the edges of his stern expression. “It’s true, my Lord. The Targaryen technology is a game-changer. With the yield from this latest operation, we’ve not only met our quotas but exceeded them. It’s no wonder the Harkonnens are rumored to be... less than pleased.”

Leto allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The Targaryen alliance had proven its worth, and each successful shipment strengthened their position on Arrakis, securing a foothold in the most valuable territory in the Imperium. It was a triumph that even Jessica’s warnings could not dampen—though he had taken her words to heart, he could not deny the potential that this partnership brought.

As Hawat sifted through the remaining reports, he paused, his expression turning more thoughtful. “There’s another piece of news, my Lord—one that I thought you might find... interesting.”

Leto looked up from the reports, curiosity piqued by the Mentat’s tone. “Go on, Hawat. What is it?”

Hawat adjusted his cloak, casting a sidelong glance at Leto. “Lady Daenys Targaryen will be arriving in Arrakeen within the next few days, along with her brothers, Aelor and Maelor, to oversee the resupply of their harvesters and to coordinate the next phase of operations.”

Leto’s heart gave a sudden, unexpected lurch in his chest, a sensation that he struggled to keep from showing on his face. He felt a flash of anticipation, a thrill that he had not experienced in years. But he quickly schooled his expression, adopting a mask of measured calm. “I see,” he replied, forcing his voice to remain neutral. “That’s... good news. It will be an opportunity to discuss further improvements to our operations.”

Hawat’s keen eyes studied Leto closely, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his shoulders seemed to relax just slightly, the faint edge of excitement that crept into his tone despite his best efforts to conceal it. The Mentat hid a knowing smile behind a cough, returning to the reports with meticulous focus.

“Indeed, my Lord,” Hawat said, his voice carefully neutral. “It will also be an opportunity to strengthen our... relations with the Targaryens. Their presence in Arrakeen could be beneficial for both our House and our operations. I trust you will handle the matter with your usual diplomacy.”

Leto nodded absently, his thoughts already drifting to the upcoming arrival of the Targaryen delegation. He could almost picture you—Daenys—stepping off the transport, your silver hair catching the desert sun, your lilac eyes scanning the cityscape with that same keen intelligence that had captivated him on Arctis.

He pushed the thought aside, forcing himself to remain focused on the strategic importance of the visit. This was a chance to discuss the next steps in their alliance, to negotiate further exchanges that could benefit both Houses. But even as he tried to maintain his professional detachment, he couldn’t entirely suppress the flicker of eagerness that warmed his chest.

Hawat cleared his throat, breaking the moment of silence. “Shall I arrange for the delegation’s arrival, my Lord? And perhaps prepare a more... informal reception?”

Leto met Hawat’s gaze, his mask slipping for just a fraction of a second to reveal a faint, genuine smile. “Yes, Hawat. Make the arrangements. And... ensure that they have everything they need while they’re here.”

The Mentat inclined his head, the faint glimmer of amusement never quite fading from his eyes as he gathered the reports and took his leave. Leto watched him go, then turned back to the holo projector, but the data no longer held his full attention.

He found himself thinking of you again—of the conversations they had shared, the understanding that had grown between them, and the sense that perhaps, in a universe filled with enemies and alliances of convenience, he had found something—someone—he could truly trust.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair, the shadows of the study lengthening around him. He knew that he would have to tread carefully, that the Emperor’s gaze and the Sisterhood’s scrutiny were never far from Arrakis. But for the first time in weeks, he allowed himself once more a moment of quiet hope.

After all, there were dragons in the desert now. And with them came the possibility of change—and perhaps, something more.

The evening sun dipped low over Arrakeen, casting the city in a warm, amber glow. The central square was alive with the quiet murmur of expectation, the air filled with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Duke Leto Atreides stood at the head of his delegation, flanked by Paul, Thufir Hawat, Gurney Halleck, and Duncan Idaho. The banners of House Atreides fluttered in the dry desert breeze, their hawk sigil illuminated by the last light of the day.

Leto’s gaze swept over the cityscape, his hands clasped behind his back, but he couldn’t hide the edge of nervousness that tightened his shoulders. He glanced at Hawat, his tone carefully measured to conceal his unease. “Are we certain this is the time they said they would arrive, Hawat?”

The Mentat nodded, his expression as impassive as ever. “Yes, my Lord. The Targaryens indicated they would arrive at nightfall. It would be... uncharacteristic of them to be late, given their usual precision.”

Leto suppressed a sigh, trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to quicken in his chest. He forced himself to remain calm, though he couldn’t shake the sense that tonight would be unlike any other night on Arrakis.

And then, as if in answer to his silent thoughts, a series of shrieks split the air, echoing over the city with a sound that was both alien and ancient. Leto’s head snapped up, his eyes scanning the darkening sky. Around him, the rest of the Atreides delegation did the same, their expressions shifting from confusion to astonishment as they turned their gaze upward.

High above the city, three massive shapes broke through the shield wall, their silhouettes outlined against the deepening blue of the sky. Wings as wide as ships beat against the air, sending currents of wind down through the city streets. Roars reverberated through the buildings, shaking the very stones of Arrakeen.

It took a moment for Leto to comprehend what he was seeing, his mind struggling to connect the impossible sight before him with the stories he had heard as a boy—tales of creatures from a time long past. And yet, there they were: dragons, their scales glinting in the dim light, their eyes burning like unknown stars.

The largest dragon—a deep red creature with eyes like embers—led the formation, flanked by a sleek black dragon and a silver-scaled beast whose wings shimmered like moonlight. They circled the city five times, a display of power that sent waves of awe and fear rippling through the populace below. People spilled into the streets, staring up in wonder, some bowing, others whispering hurried prayers to gods they had long since forgotten.

Beside Leto, Paul was wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered by the sight of the dragons. Gurney Halleck, ever the soldier, had one hand on the hilt of his dagger, though he made no move to draw it. And Thufir Hawat, for once, seemed at a loss, his analytical mind grappling with this ancient power that had just revealed itself in the skies above Arrakeen.

Only Duncan Idaho seemed unperturbed, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched the dragons with a kind of unspoken pride. Leto caught the expression and raised an eyebrow at him, but Duncan merely shrugged, his eyes never leaving the descending forms.

The dragons circled one final time before landing in the square with a deafening thud, their massive forms kicking up dust and sand that swirled around their scaled legs. The ground trembled beneath their weight, and for a moment, the air was filled with the sound of cracking stone and flapping wings.

Leto’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched you dismount from the lead dragon, a creature whose very existence defied everything the Imperium believed to be true. The dragon—your Vexiae, he would later learn—lowered its massive head as you slid gracefully to the ground, your silver hair catching the glow of the city’s lights.

You moved with a confidence that Leto recognized as uniquely your own, a grace that spoke of strength tempered by years of discipline. And in that moment, as you stood before the Atreides delegation, Vexiae looming behind you, Leto felt the stories of his childhood come rushing back to him—tales of dragons and the lost kings who rode them, of flame and steel that once bent the world to its will.

You inclined your head toward Leto, a faint smile touching your lips as you addressed him. “Duke Leto,” you said, your voice carrying easily across the square. “It seems we have arrived... perhaps a bit more dramatically than anticipated.”

Leto found his voice after a beat, forcing himself to step forward, though he couldn’t quite mask the wonder in his eyes. “Lady Daenys,” he replied, inclining his head in return. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Your smile widened slightly, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you glanced back at Vexiae, who was eyeing the crowd with a predatory curiosity. “I thought it might be fitting to... remind your people that they are not the only ones with wonders in the desert.”

Leto’s gaze lingered on the dragon behind you, the creature that had once existed only in myths now standing before him. He felt a shiver run through him—fear, perhaps, or awe—but it was tempered by something else, a sense that this moment was the beginning of a new chapter in the story of Arrakis.

“Welcome to Arrakeen, Lady Daenys,” Leto said, his voice steady now, though his eyes never left yours. “It seems we have much to discuss.”

The main hall of the Atreides stronghold in Arrakeen had been transformed into a place of celebration. House Atreides retainers moved swiftly between the tables, carrying trays of food and pitchers of water and spice wine, their movements precise as they served both their own people and the newly arrived Targaryens. The banners of the red hawk and the three-headed dragon hung side by side, the colors of House Atreides and House Targaryen blending in the dim light of the oil lamps that illuminated the grand chamber.

At the head of the room, Duke Leto Atreides sat with Aelor and Maelor Targaryen, the three of them engaged in a strategic discussion. The Targaryen brothers, with their regal bearing and intense gazes, brought an air of ancient power to the hall that had not been felt since the days of the old empires. Leto spoke animatedly, outlining potential military maneuvers to demonstrate their strength on Arrakis—a move that could secure their shared interests and deter any threats that might arise.

“We must show the Imperium and any would-be challengers that our alliance is more than words,” Leto said, his voice low but firm as he leaned closer to the Targaryen heirs. “A joint operation—a demonstration of force—would serve as a deterrent. It would make clear that House Atreides and House Targaryen are prepared to stand together.”

Aelor nodded thoughtfully, his expression as calculating as his words. “Agreed, Duke Leto. The desert is vast, but even here, power must be made visible. We can deploy our dragons in tandem with your forces to strike at strategic points. Let it be known that this is not a land for those who seek to challenge us.”

Maelor, the younger of the two brothers, smirked slightly, his lilac eyes glinting with a touch of pride. “The Harkonnens thought they could claim Arrakis without resistance. We will remind them of their mistake.”

Leto nodded in agreement, sensing the fierce determination in the brothers. He glanced around the room, catching sight of you, standing near one of the large arched windows with Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw the way you seemed at ease among his people, your silver hair catching the light like a halo in the glow of the lamps.

As the conversation continued at the head table, Paul approached you, his steps slow and measured. He waited for a lull in the conversation before speaking, his tone tentative but carrying an underlying urgency. “Lady Daenys,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “It’s... good to see you again.”

You turned toward him, a small smile curving your lips. “Paul Atreides,” you replied with a note of familiarity, a warmth in your voice that Paul found strangely comforting. It was as if you both spoke a language that others could not hear. “The pleasure is mine.”

Paul shifted slightly, glancing around to ensure that Duncan and Gurney were still engaged in their own conversation before he spoke again, his voice lower this time. “I... would like to speak with you—when you have the time. Privately. There are things we need to discuss.”

You studied him for a moment, your lilac eyes meeting his with an intensity that made Paul feel as if you could see straight through him, down to the very core of his being. But there was understanding there as well, a sense that you knew why he sought you out. You nodded, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small smile. “Indeed, Paul, we do have much to discuss. I’ll find you later, and we’ll have that conversation.”

Before the moment could stretch further, Gurney Halleck nudged you lightly with his elbow, his rough-hewn face softened by a teasing grin. “Now, Lady Daenys, you promised me something back on that frozen rock, remember? A song to warm the soul, and here we are with the perfect setting and all these fine folk. How about you indulge us now?”

Duncan raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. “I’d like to see that myself. We could all use a bit of music after the past few days.”

You laughed softly, glancing between them before inclining your head. “Very well, Gurney. I suppose I do owe you a song. But you’ll have to accompany me, of course.”

Gurney’s smile widened as he reached for his baliset, the well-worn strings gleaming faintly in the dim light. He adjusted the instrument, tuning it with practiced fingers, and then began to pluck a melancholy melody, the notes filling the hall with a haunting beauty that caused the conversations around the room to hush.

You lifted your voice, singing a ballad in the old tongue, your words weaving a story of lost kingdoms and burning skies, of dragons that soared above emerald seas and the exiles who found their way to new lands. The melody was filled with both sorrow and hope, a reminder of the past but also a promise for the future.

Leto, seated with Aelor and Maelor, fell silent as he listened to your voice, the emotion in your song stirring something deep within him. He could see the captivated expressions of his people, the way even the Targaryen brothers seemed drawn in by the ancient tale you wove with your voice. And as he watched you, he realized once more just how dangerous you were—not because of your power, but because of the way you could move hearts with just a few words.

Paul listened as well, but his thoughts were turned inward, to the dreams that had haunted him, the visions of you standing before him with dragons at your back. As he heard the melody, he felt as if he was glimpsing a part of those dreams brought to life, a piece of the puzzle that had yet to reveal its full shape.

And when the last note faded into the air, a silence followed, filled only with the echo of your voice. The hall was quiet, the weight of the moment settling over all who had gathered there.

Gurney set down his baliset, a satisfied smile on his face as he inclined his head toward you. “You’ve got the voice of an angel, Lady Daenys. I’d say that was worth the wait.”

You smiled in return, but your gaze drifted back to Paul, who stood just behind Duncan. And in the shadows of the hall, beneath the banners of hawks and dragons, the seeds of fate continued to take root, their branches stretching into a future that no one could yet fully see.

Lady Jessica, standing near one of the shadowed arches on the opposite side of the hall, found herself feeling a sense of unease that she could not fully shake.

The presence of the Targaryens here, so close to House Atreides, defied the very laws of the Imperium and the natural order as the Sisterhood understood it. These were people who should have been extinct, erased from history by fire and time. Yet here they stood, the last dragons, moving among her consort's court as if they belonged. And it was Leto who had insisted that she be introduced to the three siblings personally, despite her reservations.

Across the hall, Aelor, Maelor, and Daenys stood together, their presence like a ripple in the air that Jessica could feel on a level beyond the physical. She knew that the Targaryens had recognized her presence long before any formal introduction—their training, honed even in exile, had sharpened their ability to sense a Bene Gesserit. It was a skill that unnerved her, for it placed them beyond the usual manipulations of her order that had no effect on their House.

As the siblings approached, Leto gestured to them with a warm, if slightly forced, smile. "Jessica, allow me to introduce Aelor, Maelor, and Daenys Targaryen," he said, his voice carrying a note of formality that he reserved for such occasions. “I thought it best that we meet in person, given our... alliance.”

Jessica nodded, offering a measured smile, though her eyes were watchful. She sensed the anomasity in the air, the unspoken knowledge that passed between them as she met the gazes of the Targaryens one by one. Aelor’s look was polite but guarded, Maelor's was edged with a faint smirk, while you, Daenys, studied her with a curious intensity that made Jessica’s skin prickle. It was a challenge, one that Jessica was not accustomed to facing outside the halls of the Sisterhood.

She tried to maintain her usual composure, but Hawat, standing nearby, observed the exchange with sharp eyes. He saw how Jessica's cool demeanor slipped, if only slightly, beneath the pressure of the Targaryens’ gaze. To most, it would have been imperceptible, but Hawat had trained himself to notice the smallest of shifts, and this one intrigued him. He had never seen Lady Jessica so unnerved, so clearly on the back foot.

The Mentat tucked this observation away in his mind, recognizing the potential advantage. He had never fully trusted Jessica, not since she had arrived in Leto’s life with the Sisterhood’s agenda hidden beneath her charm. Now, seeing her disturbed in the presence of the Targaryens, he felt a sense of vindication. Perhaps the dragons—for all their unknowns—were more worthy of trust than the shadowy Bene Gesserit. At the very least, they seemed more transparent in their intentions.

Jessica, meanwhile, turned her gaze toward you, noting the way Leto glanced at you with a mixture of admiration and something deeper. It wasn’t just your striking appearance, though your silver hair and lilac eyes were impossible to ignore. It was the way you carried yourself, the strength and self-possession that seemed to draw people to you—Leto included. She understood, now, why her consort’s thoughts had been so preoccupied since Arctis.

She knew what obsession looked like—she had seen it in the Emperor, in the Baron, in those who sought power and control. But this was different, tinged with a hopefulness she had not seen in Leto for years. And that, more than anything, made her wary.

The exchange between Jessica and the Targaryens remained polite, but the tension was visible, threading through each carefully chosen word. It was Aelor who finally broke the stalemate, inclining his head toward Jessica and Leto with a faint, courteous smile. “It has been a pleasure, Lady Jessica. But I think perhaps my sister and brother might wish to explore the hall a bit more, meet some of your... other guests.”

He glanced meaningfully at you and Maelor, and after a moment, you nodded in agreement. With a final, respectful bow to Leto and Jessica, you and Maelor turned away, making your way across the hall toward Duncan and Paul. As you left, Leto’s gaze followed you, his expression betraying a flicker of disappointment that did not go unnoticed by Jessica.

With the two of you out of earshot, Aelor turned back to Leto, adopting a more businesslike tone. “I wanted to thank you, Duke Leto, for the generous gift of water that you have provided for our operations,” he said, his voice as smooth as the desert winds. “It is a precious resource here on Arrakis, more valuable than spice in many ways. But I’ve been wondering... have you considered implementing a more advanced hydroponic system for your people? Perhaps even building aqueducts to maximize your water reserves?”

Leto blinked, momentarily stunned by the scope of Aelor’s suggestion. It was a bold idea, one that went beyond the typical imperial technologies used on Arrakis. “That’s... a significant undertaking,” he replied, choosing his words carefully. “Our resources are substantial, but what you propose would require a scale of technology and infrastructure that even House Atreides would struggle to muster.”

Aelor’s smile widened, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You might find that House Targaryen has access to certain... innovations that could make such an endeavor feasible, Duke. If we are to thrive here, we must adapt. Our alliance could make many things possible—things that the Imperium has deemed impossible for far too long.”

Leto considered this, feeling a spark of excitement at the possibilities. But he also sensed the implications of Aelor’s words—the subtle hint that House Targaryen might hold knowledge that even the Emperor did not possess. He glanced toward Jessica, whose expression had turned pensive as she observed the exchange.

“We will speak more of this later,” Leto said finally, offering a polite nod. “For now, let us enjoy the evening. We have time to discuss the future when we are not surrounded by so many... curious ears.”

Aelor inclined his head, accepting the Duke’s response with a hint of a smile. “Of course, Duke Leto. Until then, I hope you will consider the potential of what we can build together.”

As Aelor turned to rejoin his siblings, Leto felt a faint shiver run through him, a sense that he was standing on the precipice of something far larger than himself. And in the shadows, Hawat watched it all unfold, his mind turning over the calculations, weighing the risks and rewards that each new alliance might bring.

You and Maelor made your way across the grand hall, the murmurs of conversation fading as you approached Duncan Idaho and Paul Atreides, who were standing near a corner where the noise of the banquet softened to a low hum. Duncan glanced up as you approached, a smile spreading across his face as he took in the sight of you.

“Well now, Lady Daenys,” Duncan said with a warm chuckle, “I have a message for you. Stilgar and his people wanted me to express their gratitude for the water filtration units and spice-resistant cloth you provided them. It’s made a real difference in their siege operations. But if you keep sending them supplies like that, you’ll spoil them. They’ll start thinking they’re nobles.”

You returned his jest with a light laugh, your expression softening. “Tell Stilgar he is most welcome. But I doubt he’ll be content to play the part of a noble for long. His pride is too fierce for that.”

Duncan chuckled again, a twinkle in his eye. “True enough. I’ll make sure he hears it just like that.”

You offered Duncan a final smile before turning your attention to Paul, who had been watching the exchange with an intensity that you recognized from your own reflections. “Paul,” you said, your voice quieting as you addressed him, “would you care to join me for a walk? I think there are... things we should speak about.”

Paul’s gaze held yours for a moment, searching, before he nodded. “Yes, I think you’re right. Lead the way.”

You and Paul stepped away from the bustle of the hall, moving through a side corridor that led to a balcony overlooking the night-shrouded sands of Arrakis. The air was cool, a breeze carrying the scent of spice and distant desert blooms. You leaned against the stone railing, the distant dunes stretching out beneath a sky full of stars. Paul stood beside you, his shoulders tense with the weight of the questions he had carried since your first meeting.

For a moment, you both stood in silence, the expanse of the desert a quiet witness to your thoughts. Finally, you broke the stillness, your voice as soft as the wind that swept across the sands. “You have questions, Paul. I can see them in your eyes.”

Paul turned to face you fully, his brow furrowed, the lines of his face drawn tight with uncertainty. “I do,” he admitted. “From the moment we met, I felt like I knew you, like you were someone I’d met before, even though I knew that wasn’t possible. But it’s more than that. It’s... dreams. I’ve seen you in my dreams, Daenys. Before I ever set foot on Arrakis.”

You inclined your head slightly, acknowledging his words, the starlight reflecting in your lilac eyes. “You’re right, Paul. We knew each other before we met. Our paths crossed long before they converged in this place, on this night.”

Paul’s gaze grew sharper, his mind racing through possibilities, questions forming on his lips before he finally asked the one that mattered most. “The dreams... what do they mean? Why do I see you in them?”

You paused, considering how best to explain the nature of your visions and the bonds they created. “My dreams are not like yours,” you began slowly, your voice tinged with a mysterious certainty. “I am a Targaryen, and we have what my people call dragon dreams—visions that show us glimpses of what might be and what is yet to come. They are a part of our blood, a legacy of the dragons.”

Paul frowned, his mind turning over your words, but you continued before he could interrupt. “Your dreams, Paul, are not the same. They are the product of Bene Gesserit designs, the result of centuries of selective breeding and genetic manipulation. They tried to replicate something ancient, something they could never truly possess, no matter how hard they tried. Something born of Targaryen blood they can't intermingle with.”

Paul’s expression darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he absorbed the implications of your words. “You mean... the Kwisatz Haderach? That’s what they’ve called me. But they never said anything about this—about being connected to you.”

You nodded slowly, the wind catching strands of your silver hair, carrying them like threads into the night. “They wouldn’t. It’s not something they could have planned for. But I did dream of you, Paul, just as you dreamed of me. Our fates are woven together, by threads that go beyond bloodlines and prophecies.”

Paul’s mind swirled with the weight of your revelation, the foundations of his understanding shifting beneath him. He turned his gaze back to the desert, his voice barely more than a whisper. “If our dreams are different, then what do yours show you, Daenys? What do you see when you dream?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories of your dragon dreams stirring beneath your eyelids like coals in the dark. “I see... fire and shadow, dragons that rise from the ashes of ancient worlds, and a storm that sweeps across the Imperium. I see choices—choices that will shape the future of Arrakis, of your House and mine. And I see you, Paul, standing at the heart of it all.”

Paul shivered despite the warmth of the desert night, feeling the weight of your words settle over him like a cloak. For the first time, he felt that the visions that had haunted him were not a burden he carried alone. You shared a connection that defied the logic of the Imperium, a bond that neither the Sisterhood nor the Emperor could control.

He turned to look at you again, and in that moment, he knew that the answers he sought lay not only in the teachings of the Bene Gesserit but in the wisdom of those who walked beside dragons. 

Leto Atreides stood in the shadowed corner of the grand hall, his eyes following your form as you walked away with Paul, your figures disappearing through one of the arched doors leading to the balcony. He felt a pang of unease—not because he feared for Paul’s safety but because he knew how Jessica would react. And sure enough, she was already striding toward him, her expression tight with barely concealed irritation.

“Leto,” Jessica said, her voice sharp as a blade as she gestured toward the doorway where you and Paul had disappeared. “You shouldn’t have let her go off with him. Daenys is dangerous, and Paul is not safe with her. Who knows what she’ll put into his head?”

Leto turned to face her fully, his own frustration bubbling to the surface as he met her fierce gaze. “Enough, Jessica,” he snapped, keeping his voice low but firm. “Daenys is no threat to Paul. She has given us no reason to mistrust her. And if you haven’t noticed, Hawat’s men are everywhere. Paul is in no danger.”

Jessica’s eyes flashed, a sign that her Bene Gesserit training was warring with her personal feelings. “You don’t understand, Leto. She’s not like us—she’s not like anyone we’ve dealt with before. She’s... other, and her presence here upsets the balance. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and I know it clouds your judgment. She could be putting ideas into Paul’s mind, manipulating him—”

Leto raised a hand, cutting her off, his expression hardening. “That’s enough, Jessica. I’ve trusted your advice for years, but this time, I’ll trust my own instincts. Daenys means no harm to our son. And frankly, your suspicions of her have more to do with the Sisterhood’s fears than with reality.”

Jessica stiffened at the accusation, a flash of hurt crossing her features before she masked it behind her usual composure. She took a breath, then leaned closer, her voice barely more than a whisper. “This is your last warning, Leto. Don’t let your... feelings for her blind you to the threats she might pose. Paul is more important than... than whatever you think she represents.”

With that, she turned on her heel, her robes swirling around her as she retreated into the crowd, leaving Leto standing alone. He watched her go, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he struggled to control the mix of emotions that churned inside him—anger, frustration, and something deeper that he could not easily name.

As the tension from the encounter lingered in the air, Gurney Halleck approached, his footsteps light despite the weight of the baliset slung over his back. He had caught the heated exchange, and now he studied Leto with a knowing look. “Ah, my Lord, I couldn’t help but overhear some of that... discussion with Lady Jessica.”

Leto sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face Gurney. “I suppose it’s no secret that we don’t see eye to eye on this. She’s convinced that Daenys is a danger to Paul. I know she means well, but... she doesn’t understand.”

Gurney’s expression softened as he nodded, his gaze drifting toward the doorway where you and Paul had disappeared. “Aye, the lass is a strange one, no doubt about it. But dangerous? Not to Paul, not from what I’ve seen. She has a... gentleness about her when she speaks with him. It’s not the kind of thing that threatens—more like the kind of thing that... guides.”

Leto’s shoulders relaxed slightly at Gurney’s reassurance, the tension easing just enough for him to breathe. “I know, Gurney. I feel it too. But Jessica...” He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the lingering unease. “She sees something different. And it’s... difficult, balancing all of this—House Atreides, Paul, this alliance with the Targaryens. Sometimes it feels like there’s no right path, just... less dangerous ones.”

Gurney chuckled softly, clapping a hand on Leto’s shoulder. “My Lord, if I might speak plainly... you’ve always had a way of thinking too much. Sometimes it’s better to follow your heart, even if it leads you into unknown places. I’ve seen the way you look at the Targaryen lass, and I think you’d do well to have a real conversation with her, without all these... formalities hanging over you. Unburden yourself, as it were.”

Leto glanced at Gurney, surprised by the directness of the advice, but there was a certain wisdom in his old friend’s words. He turned his gaze back to the door, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he imagined the possibility. “You might be right, Gurney. Perhaps it’s time I had a... different kind of conversation with Daenys.”

Gurney grinned, giving Leto a gentle push in the direction of the balcony. “Go on, then. I’ll keep Lady Jessica occupied, if she decides to come back for round two. And don’t worry about Paul—he’s tougher than he looks.”

Leto took a deep breath, then nodded. As he moved toward the balcony, he could feel his heartbeat quicken, a sense of anticipation building inside him. He had faced enemies in battle and navigated the treacherous currents of politics, but there was something different about this—something that felt like stepping into a new world, one filled with possibility.

You and Paul stood on the balcony, overlooking the vast desert that stretched beyond the city of Arrakeen. The last whispers of your conversation lingered in the air, the words shared between you turning from the weight of prophecy to a more personal warmth. For the first time since he had arrived on Arrakis, Paul felt a sense of clarity, a feeling that his dreams and visions were not a burden he had to carry alone.

He offered you a smile—genuine, even if touched by the uncertainties that still lay ahead. “Thank you, Daenys,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. “I think... I understand a little better now. Whatever happens, I know I’m not alone in this.”

You returned the smile, a warmth in your gaze as you nodded. “You are not, Paul. We both have a role to play in the unfolding story of this world. But remember, you have the strength to shape your own path, just as your father does. Trust that.”

Paul glanced back over his shoulder, where the three dragons loomed in the distance, their massive forms dark silhouettes against the starlit sky. He knew that the presence of these creatures—these beasts of myth—would be spoken of for generations, their arrival marking a new era on Arrakis. He took a deep breath and turned back toward the door, catching sight of a shadow standing in the threshold.

It was Leto, his father, watching them with a quiet resolve in his eyes. Paul’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he passed by Leto, offering a simple, “Goodnight, Father,” before disappearing back into the warmth of the stronghold.

Leto nodded, acknowledging Paul’s departure, though his attention remained fixed on you, standing there with the desert wind playing through your silver hair. He stepped forward, crossing the threshold to join you on the balcony, his presence bringing a different kind of warmth—one that felt more personal, more unspoken.

You turned as he approached, offering a nod of greeting, and he came to stand beside you, leaning against the stone railing that overlooked the sands below. For a moment, the two of you stood in companionable silence, the howl of the wind filling the space between words. Leto’s gaze drifted to the dragons far beyond the city’s edge, then back to you, as if trying to find the right way to begin.

“The first time I saw Vexiae today, your dragon,” he said finally, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It felt like... something out of a dream, or a story I used to hear as a child. A thing that wasn’t supposed to be real. And yet... there you were. Standing with a creature that I thought had vanished from the world.”

You tilted your head slightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Many things that are forgotten linger in the shadows, Duke Leto. Not everything that disappears is truly gone. Sometimes, it just... waits for the right moment to return.”

Leto glanced sideways at you, his expression growing more serious, though there was a warmth in his eyes that softened the lines of his face. “I think I’ve come to understand that. Ever since Arctis, I’ve been trying to find the right words to... express how I felt when I saw you there. And then again, here, in the heart of Arrakis.”

He paused, struggling with the words that sat heavy in his chest, a weight that he had carried for too long. He turned to face you more fully, his voice low and earnest. “This alliance between our Houses—it’s more than just military strategy and economic ties. At least, it is for me. I think... I think it’s become something personal. Something that I’m not sure I have the right words for.”

Your gaze softened, your expression shifting into something that Leto had seen only glimpses of before—something unguarded and honest. You stepped closer to him, your eyes searching his face, as if reading the emotions that he struggled to articulate.

“Not everything needs words, Leto,” you replied gently. “Sometimes, it’s enough to simply feel. To let those feelings guide us, even if we don’t understand them fully.”

Leto let out a soft breath, his shoulders relaxing as he took in the truth of your words. He nodded, a faint smile playing at his lips. “You have a way of making things sound... simple, even when they’re not. I suppose that’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place.”

The silence that settled between you was different now—no longer filled with unspoken tension, but with the quiet understanding that something had shifted between you. Leto glanced down at the desert sands, the light of Arrakeen casting long shadows across the dunes, and then back at you, standing beside him like a figure from a legend.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a murmur. “But I’d like to think that... maybe there’s a place for something more than just alliance between us. If you’re open to the possibility.”

You studied him for a long moment, your lilac eyes holding his gaze, and then you offered him a smile that was as warm as the desert sun. “I think, Duke Leto, that we both have a great deal to discover. About Arrakis, about each other... and about the things that linger just beyond what we can see.”

Leto felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your words, a sense that he had found a kindred spirit in a place where trust was often a rare commodity. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against yours in a gesture that was more promise than anything spoken aloud.

And as the stars above Arrakeen shone brighter against the desert night, the future seemed a little less uncertain, shaped by the presence of a dragon’s shadow and the dreams of those willing to change the world.

The incident with the Hunter-Seeker had left a shadow over the Atredies stronghold, a sense of paranoia that clung to every corridor and corner. The hidden Harkonnen assassin who had been uncovered in the aftermath was now being interrogated deep within the dungeons, but the implications of his presence ran deeper than any single conspiracy.

In his study, Duke Leto Atreides paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry and anger. He glanced up as Thufir Hawat entered, the Mentat’s face drawn and pale, his usual confidence replaced by a grim determination. Hawat’s shoulders were slumped, the weight of his perceived failure pressing down on him.

“My Lord, I should have anticipated this,” Hawat began, his voice tight with frustration. “I should have known that the Harkonnens would try to strike at us even after we’d taken Arrakis. This Hunter-Seeker nearly reached Paul—if it hadn’t been for your son’s quick reflexes, it could have—”

Leto raised a hand, cutting him off. He could see the turmoil in Hawat’s eyes, the way the Mentat struggled with his own sense of guilt. “We cannot change what has already happened, Thufir,” he said, his tone gentler than the anger that burned inside him. “What we need now is to focus on understanding how this assassin managed to remain hidden among us for so long.”

Hawat’s jaw tightened, and he nodded reluctantly, though the tension in his posture remained. “I’ve been investigating the possibility of a mole within our own ranks, but... there are rumors, my Lord. Whispers that this may have been the work of the Sisterhood—that Lady Jessica might have had a hand in it, or that... perhaps I myself might be the traitor.”

Leto’s expression darkened at the mention of Jessica. The strains in their relationship had only deepened since their last confrontation, but he refused to believe she would put Paul at risk, even if her loyalties were divided. And yet, the rumors had already begun to spread through the stronghold, poisoning the trust within House Atreides.

“I’ll not entertain baseless accusations against Jessica or you, Thufir,” Leto said, his voice firm. “But the fact remains—we need help. And I believe our allies may have the resources we lack to uncover how this assassin remained hidden here for so long.”

Hawat looked up, surprise flickering across his features. “You mean the Targaryens?”

Leto nodded, turning to gaze out the window, where the distant desert dunes rolled like waves beneath the morning sun. “Yes. Aelor, Daenys, and Maelor have made it clear that they have access to surveillance technologies beyond what the Imperium understands. And they have a vested interest in keeping Arrakeen secure from Harkonnen interference.”

He turned back to Hawat, his expression hardening with a renewed sense of determination. “Send a message to House Targaryen. Inform them of what has happened and request their assistance in investigating this security breach. If they can help us uncover how this assassin managed to infiltrate our stronghold, it will help us put to rest any suspicions among our own ranks.”

Hawat bowed his head, though a shadow of relief crossed his face. “Yes, my Lord. I will see it done immediately. And... thank you, for your trust. I will not fail you again.”

As Hawat turned to leave, Leto’s mind was already spinning with the implications of this request. He knew that relying on Targaryen aid would be seen as a dangerous gamble by some, especially those who still viewed the dragons as outsiders with their own agenda. But he also knew that the poison of paranoia was a greater threat than anything the Harkonnens could muster.

He watched as Hawat disappeared down the corridor, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance. Alone in his study, Leto let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shake off the weariness that had settled over him like a cloak. 

And as he turned back to the window, he allowed himself a fleeting thought of Daenys, wondering if you would understand the trust he was placing in your family—if you would see it as an olive branch, a chance to build something lasting amid the shifting sands of Arrakis.

For better or worse, the dragons had become a part of his world, and Leto could only hope that they would stand with him when the storm finally broke.

...

The medical chamber was quiet, filled only with the steady hum of the machines and the occasional rustle of Dr. Yueh’s robes as he carefully examined Paul Atreides. The incident with the Hunter-Seeker had shaken the household, but Jessica had insisted that Yueh perform a thorough examination to ensure that no lingering effects or injuries had gone unnoticed. Paul sat on the edge of the examination table, his expression calm, but there was a tension in his shoulders that Jessica recognized well.

Jessica stood nearby, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed on her son with an intensity that held more than just motherly concern. The events of the past week had left her unsettled, and her mind was plagued by thoughts of the Targaryens, particularly the growing influence they seemed to hold over both Leto and Paul.

Dr. Yueh’s hands moved with the precision of a skilled physician as he passed a scanner over Paul’s torso, his expression thoughtful. “There are no signs of lingering damage, young master,” he said softly. “The Hunter-Seeker was detected in time, and your reflexes served you well. You’ve come through this incident unscathed.”

Paul nodded absently, his gaze drifting to the window where the sunlight of Arrakis streamed through. But before he could respond, Jessica took the opportunity to speak, her tone sharp with the frustration she had been holding back for days.

“Paul,” she said, drawing his attention away from Yueh. “We need to discuss your... relationship with Lady Daenys Targaryen. It’s dangerous for you to become so close to her, especially given what we know about her family and their... unpredictability.”

Paul’s head snapped around, a frown creasing his features. “Why is it dangerous, Mother?” he shot back, a note of defensiveness in his voice that Jessica had rarely heard from him. “Daenys has done nothing to harm us. She’s been... honest with me. More than most in this court.”

Jessica took a step closer, her eyes narrowing as she met her son’s defiant gaze. “Honesty is not the same as loyalty, Paul. The Targaryens are uncontrolled elements—dangerous because they do not bend to the will of the Bene Gesserit or the Imperium. Should they turn against us, they could threaten everything we’ve worked for. And you... you are too important to be swayed by their charm.”

Paul’s frown deepened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m not being swayed, Mother. I can make my own judgments. Daenys has shown me respect and a kind of understanding that... that I don’t often find here. She’s not like the Sisterhood you belong to, with all its secrets and manipulations.”

Jessica’s breath caught in her chest, the passion in Paul’s voice startling her. It was a tone she had heard only a few times before—when he spoke about things that mattered deeply to him, like his father’s honor or the legacy of House Atreides. But what worried her most was the realization that she had seen this same intensity in Leto whenever he spoke of the Targaryen woman.

Jessica took a breath, forcing herself to keep her tone even as she continued. “You’re forgetting your purpose, Paul. You are more than just a young man—you are the product of centuries of planning and breeding, the hope of the Sisterhood’s grand design. You cannot afford to become... distracted by Daenys or her family’s promises.”

Paul’s eyes flashed, and he shook his head, frustration boiling over. “I haven’t forgotten, Mother. I know exactly what you and the Sisterhood expect of me. But maybe... maybe I don’t want my life to be dictated by a plan that I never asked for. Maybe I want to be something more than just a tool for your order.”

Jessica stiffened at his words, the rebuke cutting deeper than she had anticipated. She opened her mouth to respond, but the anger and hurt in Paul’s eyes stopped her. For a moment, she saw not just the son she had trained but the young man who was searching for a path that belonged to him alone.

Dr. Yueh, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, cleared his throat softly, breaking the tension that had thickened the air. “If I may, Lady Jessica, young master Paul, the examination is complete. And... I believe the Duke would want us all to focus on the threats that remain. The Harkonnens are still out there, and the future of Arrakis is uncertain.”

Paul turned away from his mother, his shoulders tense as he nodded to Yueh, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your help.”

Jessica remained silent as Paul left the room, her mind racing with the implications of their conversation. As the door closed behind him, she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. She couldn’t shake the sense that she was losing control—not just of Paul but of Leto as well. And the realization that they might both be willing to trust Daenys Targaryen over the Sisterhood was a disturbing thought indeed.

When she turned to face Dr. Yueh, she found the physician studying her with a curious expression. He inclined his head slightly, his tone respectful but firm. “If I may, my lady, I have seen worry in many forms. It seems to me that young master Paul is... finding his own way. Perhaps that is something to be nurtured, rather than... feared.”

Jessica offered him a tight smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for your insight, Dr. Yueh. But there are... things at play here that you do not fully understand.”

With that, she turned on her heel and swept from the room.

...

Jessica moved through the stone corridors of the Atreides stronghold with a brisk pace, her robes swirling around her as she made her way deeper into the halls. Her mind was clouded with worry and anger, her thoughts turning over the confrontation with Paul and the widening gap between her and Leto. She could sense that the balance of power and influence within their household was shifting—and that the presence of the Targaryens was at the heart of it.

As she approached one of the side courtyards, she caught sight of Thufir Hawat standing near a Fremen messenger, his expression intent as he passed a sealed message into the messenger’s hands. The Fremen nodded curtly, tucking the message into his robes before turning and disappearing into the shadows of the courtyard, heading in the direction of the desert.

Jessica stepped forward, her voice sharp as she addressed the Mentat. “Thufir, what are you doing? Sending messages to the Targaryens behind my back?”

Hawat turned to face her, his expression hardening as he squared his shoulders. “The Duke ordered me to reach out to House Targaryen for assistance in rooting out the Harkonnen threat, my lady. It’s a matter of security for Arrakeen—something I believe you would support, given the circumstances.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, her tone icy. “Do not think for a moment that I am unaware of what you are doing, Mentat. You have allowed Leto to draw too close to these outsiders. He risks everything we have worked for by aligning himself with them.”

Hawat’s jaw tightened, but he met her gaze steadily. “The Duke is acting in the best interests of House Atreides, as he always has. Daenys, Aelor, and Maelor Targaryen have proven themselves valuable allies, capable of providing resources and technologies that could strengthen our position on Arrakis. The Harkonnens are a greater threat than you realize, and we need every advantage we can muster.”

Jessica’s expression grew more severe, her frustration boiling over as she pressed her point. “And in doing so, you risk endangering House Atreides from within! Leto’s judgment has been compromised—I have seen the way he looks at Daenys, how he speaks of her. He is letting his feelings cloud his decisions, and you... you are enabling him.”

Hawat’s eyes flashed with defiance, and he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “You underestimate the Duke, my lady. He has made difficult choices before, and he will do so again if it is what is best for Arrakis. If that means aligning with House Targaryen, then so be it.”

Jessica’s lips thinned, and she lowered her voice, her words carrying a sharper edge. “Do you truly believe that this alliance will end with military aid and economic exchange, Thufir? Leto has kept himself unmarried for years, maintaining his freedom for political maneuvering. But now, I fear he is prepared to break that unspoken promise, even if it means betraying those who have stood beside him all these years. Betraying... me.”

Hawat’s expression shifted, and for a moment, a flicker of sympathy crossed his features. But his voice remained firm, unyielding. “If Leto chooses to pursue a different path, it is because he believes it is the right one. And if that path includes Daenys Targaryen, then perhaps it is time to consider what new possibilities that could bring to House Atreides.”

Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger and hurt, but she held herself tall, unwilling to show any weakness before the Mentat. “You overstep, Hawat. You have always overstepped, but this time... you go too far. You would cast aside loyalty for a new alliance, one that could break us.”

Hawat inclined his head slightly, though his expression remained cool. “I serve the Duke, my lady. As do you. And I will continue to do so, no matter what choices he makes.”

Without waiting for her response, Hawat turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridor, leaving Jessica standing alone in the courtyard, the shadows deepening around her.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the weight of her fury and fear pressing down like a stone. Leto’s intentions were becoming clearer with each passing day, and the thought of him offering his hand—and House Atreides—to the Targaryens filled her with a cold dread.

But more than that, it was the realization that she might be losing her place in Leto’s life, a place that she had fought so hard to maintain, that cut the deepest. And as she stood there, her mind raced with the possibilities, the plots, and the shadowed futures that loomed before them all.

She knew that Arrakis was a battleground—but it was not just the desert that would be fought over. 

[cassipedia]

Review of Dune: Part One

Hey, Cassipedia, what're you watching?

Recently I re-watched Dune: Part One which is based on the first half of the sci-fi novel Dune by Frank Herbert from 1965. It is referred to as a sci-fi ‘epic’ because of the length and scope of the story, at the center of which is Paul Atreides, the son of a duke of a ruling family that was recently granted ownership of a dangerous desert planet called Arrakis in order to mine ‘Spice,’ a material necessary for space travel, the mining for which has caused unrest among the people of the Fremen who live there already. As jealous former rulers of the planet close in from above, and unfathomably massive sandworms lurk below, all the while a centuries-old plot lies within in veins—his bloodline—this first movie centers around Paul learning to understand what it means to ‘answer the call.’

Do you recommend watching it?

Absolutely. This is an unforgettable experience of a movie, and it’s honestly a bit hard to explain why. It feels like stepping into an alien planet, where there is much that is unfamiliar and that you don’t understand, but the more that you venture in, the more you start to find and compare things to what you do recognize. There is also a straight-forward story at the heart of it, of a young man being thrust into a dangerous world, trying to figure out his purpose and what exactly he’s surviving for, but it connects to these larger questions and uses such unforgettable, almost dream-like visuals that might be possible in the far-future, all accompanied by haunting music and actors who took their roles seriously.

What's the story like?

The two words I would use to describe this movie are these “dignity” and “majesty.” There is size and weight to everything, and the sense that all that is unfolding in the movie is the result of many centuries, far beyond our time and on the edge of our understanding. It takes place in the inconceivably distant future and centers around a dangerous desert planet known as Arrakis, as control of the planet is fought for due to its highly valuable Spice that is used in space travel. The ruling family put in charge by the Emperor of the Imperium to control the Arrakis is House Atreides must fend off the jealous former rulers of the planet, the Harkonnens, all the while simply trying to survive the planet’s killing heat and massive sandworms. The natives to the planet, the Fremen, who’ve been oppressed by the Harkonnens, watch the struggle, waiting to see whether or not House Atreides is the same as their cruel, former-rulers or if the desert will swallow them whole. At the center of it all is the son of the Duke of House Atreides, Paul, whom is uncertain if he will be able to take up the responsibility of eventually taking over for his father. He also carries the burden of a second legacy through his mother, who originates from a secretive order known as the Bene Gesserit, and through Paul, there is an ancient plot to create “a mind that can bridge time and space” to attempt to create a man-made messiah to bring hope to all. He has dreams and visions of the future, and he may have the potential to not only befriend the elusive and mysterious Fremen, but also make way for their improbable dream of turning the deadly Arrakis into a place with flourish plants and water. This may sound complicated, but the story essentially boils down to Paul trying to answer the  question of, why does he want to survive? At the core of this story, past all the layers of history and characters struggling against one another, this movie and its story encapsulates the awe-inspiring and humbling situation that is living in an unforgiving environment. I remember watching the short film Nanook of the North as Eskimos staved off the threat of starvation and killing cold and wondering, why are they still living there in such a dangerous place? Is it because it is where they were born? Is it pride? Or something much more than that? I see the Fremen on Arrakis in a very similar way, a people whom have made a home of a deathtrap of a landscape and are doing more than just surviving; they thrive. Just as I asked these questions of Nanook, Paul asks these questions of the Fremen. And in a strange way, when all safety and the comforts and certainties of the old life is stripped away and left with few resources in a nightmarish desert, that seems to be when the true value of life can be best seen.

How are the actors and actresses?

In order for a movie like this to even work, every aspect of it needs to be of its upmost quality. Dune is not an easy story to adapt and its characters are just as heavy with history and layers as its world. I am thrilled to say then that I admire how well the actors portrayed these characters. I think it says something that I did not recognize most of these actors and actresses upon my first viewing, and I only afterwards started to note familiar faces after my viewings of the film afterwards. It is evidence to me that the characters came first before the actors behind the faces ever did. But that isn’t to say that the actors and actresses weren’t fitting for their roles.

Paul Atreides is portrayed by Timothée Chalamet. From the start of the film, he is introduced as someone, though young and restless, is very aware of the responsibility of the burdens on his shoulders and is constantly inquiring and trying to understand, and over the course of the film, he increasingly realizes just how much bigger matters are than he thought. He is thoughtful and empathetic. Just before leaving his home planet into the dangerous unknown of Arrakis, while all the others prepare for the trip, Paul’s preparations are to sit in the grass and to place his hand the water from the beach, as if saying goodbye to simple sights that he may have taken for granted before and is now realizing he might not see again for a long, long time. His heart is in the right place, wanting to help others, but there is much he has yet to learn. This is evidenced when, after finally arriving at his family’s new home base on Arrakis, he talks with a groundskeeper who is watering palm trees and Paul asks if they should remove the trees so the spare water can be given to the people, to which the groundskeeper declines and states, “Old dream.” Paul senses this dream for a better future and he may even have the potential to bring it forth, but the question will be if he can truly bear the immense, crushing weight that is the hopes of an entire planet.

In the face of such a daunting task, one of Paul’s invaluable resources are the loving teachings of his father, Duke Leto Atreides, portrayed by Oscar Isaac. He is the head of House Atreides, and it is very clear from the moment that he first appears on screen that he is a man whom carries himself with dignity and honor, always putting first the wellbeing of others. He has no patience for unnecessary ceremony when it gets in the way of practicality, and he asks nothing of others that he wouldn’t do himself. It is clear that those he holds great expectation for Paul and wishes to see him succeed, Duke Leto remains proud of his son. Duke Leto creates a legacy of honor and grace for Paul to use, to take that next step to his destiny. There is another half to Paul’s resources, and that is through his mother, Lady Jessica, portrayed by Rebecca Ferguson. She is cautious and clever. Being trained by the order of the Bene Gesserit, she is able to command others through a mysterious and powerful technique called ‘The Voice,’ the techniques of which she trains Paul in, preparing him for a destiny of bringing a new hope to all through near unfathomable powers. But there is a clear struggle within her, as all that she does is in the name of protecting her son, and yet, there is a question of if she’s truly given him the means to protect himself or if she’s accidentally given him a way to destroy himself and more, should he fail to rise to the call.

But Paul’s main challenges come from not just the deadly environment of Arrakis or even its inhabitants. The foil to the House of Atreides is that of the House of Harkonnen, under the rule of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, portrayed by Stellan Skarsgård. Perhaps he was human a long, long time ago. He almost looks human, and a small part of him may still be. At first glance, he appears to simply be an overweight figure, so pale he looks like a corpse. But there is something unearthly monstrous about him, of how he appears to have some kind of cybernetic augmentation that lets his overweight body move like a serpent, and we never fully see the mechanics of it, so our imaginations are left to fill in the blanks. It would almost be less horrifying if he had been born a nightmare, if the way he moved were somehow natural, but it isn’t. There’s an implication that, whatever he did to twist his body into the thing that it is, it was a willing choice. His wants are simple; Arrakis once belonged to him and he wants it back. Whereas Duke Leto keeps every promise, the Baron breaks every promise he makes, always opting into his own self-interest. Though there are so many layers to the story, at the core of it, Dune: Part One is a simple story of good and evil. The moment when the Baron and Duke Leto finally come face-to-face in the film is my absolute favorite moment of the film. I dare not spoil it, but it demonstrates how, for all of the Baron’s hideous power, all it takes for Duke Leto to strike fear into him is but a single word, for while the Baron desperately and jealousy clings to his materialistic empire, Duke Leto is willing to destroy it all and give up everything to protect what is good.

The supporting cast are equally memorable as the main characters. I admired how the movie established the deep connection that Paul had with his weapons master and his father’s war master, Duncan Idaho, portrayed by Jason Momoa, and Gurney Halleck, portrayed by Josh Brolin. Duncan is a full-bred warrior who willingly leaps into danger and his willingness to adapt and never surrender was what made him best suited to try seeking out negotiations with the mysterious Fremen who were not keen on outsiders. He has an amazing scene that demonstrates his incredible fighting spirit, which is driven by his great love for House Atreides and especially Paul, whom he refers to as “my boy” throughout the film. Jason Momoa did an amazing job bring this character to life and channeling his energy into an honorable and relentless warrior. As a kind of foil to Duncan, Gurney Halleck is the loyal and unyielding sword to Duke Leto, hardened by horrific battles, yet he has devoted everything to House Atreides, which includes to Paul, whom is one of the few characters whom he smiles at. He is rigid and follows protocol somewhat to a fault as it makes it difficult for him to adapt to the strange ways of Arrakis and the Fremen, but his faith in his purpose is certain and he never gives less than all he has. The way that these characters feel like extended family members to Duke Leto and his actual family speaks volumes on what kind of rule that the duke has led and how it further contrasts with the detached Harkonnens.

There are many other notable characters and factions, but the one most important to mention is of course the Fremen. People of the desert of Arrakis, whom have become a part of it, and all that they do and how they think and act is shaped by the desert. They are hardened, not necessarily out of cruelty, but rather because they do not waste their energy on frivolous gestures, lest they use up the scarce water in their bodies. A good example of how the Fremen is through Stilgar, portrayed by Javier Bardem. He moves quickly and talks in few, straight-forward words, but each word is with a purpose, carefully and quickly chosen. He does not trust Duke Leto, yet he is willing to hear the man out to let him prove himself that he is different from the former oppressors of his planet. Admittedly, it was surprising how small a role that there was for the Fremen girl Chani, portrayed by Zendaya Maree Stoermer Coleman, in comparison to the others, but I think her role serves more as a teaser of what is to come for the sequel, as the story of Dune had been split in half between movies to fit it all in. And her narration over the opening scene was very well-done and incredibly haunting to me. But this film is at least able to get across the main idea behind the Fremen. They are survivors, completely and utterly. They may seem ruthless in comparison to those of House Atreides, but they are different from the Harkonnens that sacrifice others to save themselves; the Fremen test others, like pushing someone into a pool to make them learn to swim, for in a harsh place like Arrakis, if one is not willing to learn quickly and adapt, then their life is already forfeit. But they are not cold or heartless, they have dreams, dreams of a planet that is no longer a desert, and once their trust is properly earned, it is a bond that cannot ever be broken. Even with the actors and actresses that I haven’t mentioned here, there is no word wasted and no action taken without purpose.

What does the movie look like?

It is a vivid and continuous dream. It is not flashy; it is not marketable. It is taking our understanding of how we see the world and how we imagine the future and stretching it so far forward it starts to become something alien, near unrecognizable, yet, deep down, you know somewhere that it originated from something familiar long, long ago. I had a hard time telling the difference between practical effects and CGI. So many times, I stared at characters standing in elaborate outfits on intricate tiles all the while an abstract pillar of a spaceship casts its shadow, and I couldn’t fathom that what I was seeing doesn’t physically exist; it looked too real not to believe.

The movie talks to the viewer through its visuals, and it is up to the viewer to pay attention. There is no scrolling text or unnatural exposition of characters of things they have grown up with. The characters live their lives as normal and the world of the film exists as it has every day for the past thousands of years, so the deeper understanding of how it works must be visually understood. Allow me to describe an example. Several times throughout the movie, we are told that there is space travel between planets. We see a character announce that a character from another planet is on their way, then it cuts to a shot of a view of the planet from space, while a strange and almost ominous, massive tube floats in space with dozens of small shapes like gnats leaving it, and the following scene then shows a group of ships landing on the planet, indicating that space travel occurred. It wasn’t until the next time that this happened, with showing the same massive tube in outer space with slightly different smaller shapes coming out of it did I finally put together that, whatever that tube was, it was acting as the gateway through which space travel occurred. The film never gives this tube a name, and it never explains how space travel works through it aside from ‘Spice from Arrakis is necessary for space travel.’ A part of me wishes to know, but I realized that I don’t need to know, not that, since it still communicates so much more, such as just how much mining of Spice probably has occur to power that thing, if Spice works as a power source in the way that I assume it does. With only a few scenes and no words directly spoken to me, I find myself a little intimidated by the mystery of the space travel tube, but also in awe of its scope and itching to understand it. All of the machines and settings are like this, with abstract yet distinguishable shapes that visually communicate their purpose but explain little else, almost making them seem more like living beasts than anything.

With how the film explains the necessary minimum, colors are incredibly important in this movie. The soothing grey blue of Paul’s home planet of Caladan, the harsh and neon whites and blacks of the Harkonnen home planet, and the sun-drowned oranges and browns of Arrakis. You always know exactly where you are from simply the colors of the scenery. It further burns the image of everything into my mind, like a dream I can’t forget even after waking up. The scenery is alive. In every scene, there is something being visually communicated, some additional detail about the world to learn if you dig deeper. There is an abstract, futuristic regality to Caladan, like something so far in the future it has somehow reached around to a medieval majesty. In contrast, the planet of the Harkonnens is dark and only lit by colorless white, neon, where all is a more modern abstract, where everything feels expertly and artificially made, something barely human and pretending to be. But at the heart of it all, where these two conflicting visuals are pit against one another is in Arrakis. One of the main themes of the original story of Dune is the indomitable and inescapable presence of nature, where anyone who thinks they can conqueror the sands of Arrakis through brute force shall be another speck swallowed up in its dunes their bodies will never see the light of day, and it is only those whom recognize their powerlessness and accepts it, shall they be able to learn to listen and follow the flow of the sands. Arrakis dares those who dwell on it to learn its ways or risk death. Somehow, this film managed to capture this near-living creature of a planet.

Anything notable about the music?

It is largely ambient. There is a heavy emphasis on using a choir largely consisting of female voices that let out wails in a Persian scale that haunts and drowns out thoughts. There are rusted drums like something skittering across the sand. Orchestral instruments imitate the wails, just as intense but they sound like machines in comparison, getting under your skin in a more invasive way. When I researched the movie afterwards, there were apparently hybrid instruments specifically created for this movie to add to its surreal and otherworldly desert sounds.

If it’s based on a book, should I read that first?

Reading the book first isn’t required. I never heard of Dune prior to this film, and it was the movie that led me to grabbing the book. And it floored me just how much the movie was able to capture. The book of Dune is rich with details and nuance that are difficult to explain in normal conversation much like transfer to visual media in a coherent way. There had been many attempts to adapt the movie in the past. The 2021 version that I’ve been detailing in this review is the one that I was introduced to the series by, though I did afterwards check out the 1984 Dune movie directed by David Lynch, and I personally had trouble finishing the 1984 adaptation. In part, I think the 1984 version interpreted the book as more of a sci-fi psychedelic trip and it also attempted to fit in the dense entirety of the first book of Dune into one movie, which then meant not delving into the moments of the story much. The 2021 version instead only covers the first-half of the Dune first book, which is why the 2021 film is tilted Dune: Part One, and I think the film is much better for that. It is able to dwell and give each important moment the time it needs, though that it’s to say that Dune: Part One wastes any time. Each scene and word spoken offers something useful for the viewer, and it tried to touch upon all of the important elements and themes of the original novel. This film of course couldn’t capture everything from the book, but, considering the abstract nature of some parts, I felt it was understandable and their efforts were still admirable. A good example of changes was the death of the character Dr. Kynes. In the original story, he was a man whom died due to collapsing from exhaustion while a sand bubble of trapped water slowly expanded beneath him and would then explode with the force of dynamite, all the while he talks to an illusion of his deceased father about the ecology of Arrakis due to the hallucinogenic Spice he’s breathing in. In the film, Dr. Kynes was a woman who acted as a distraction for invading forces that were pursuing Paul and she ultimately sacrificed herself in the name of her dream for a better Arrakis. These are widely different in many senses, yet it still captured the heart of the character and scene, which was the character’s passion for ecology being rooted in a desire to see Arrakis no longer simply be a dune, but something greater, something that sounded impossible yet believing in it anyways. The actress Sharon Duncan-Brewster did well in bringing the core essence of the character to life and the scene of her character’s death is another memorable moment in the film. Though I watched the film before reading the book, after the fact, I feel that the movie was very respectful to the original source material and did all it could to bring the surreal majesty to life.

The film is perfectly enjoyable without having read the book, though said book does also have a recommendation from me as well. It is also worth reading if you are wanting a deeper dive into the innerworkings of the world, though I must warn you, the book, similar to the movie, is not going to unnaturally explain things to you. It treats itself as a history book that was pulled from the far future, and it leaves it up to you to follow along.

Who would like this movie most?

I would say that this film may be best enjoyed by young adults and up, or, really for anyone whom would be interested in a movie that wants to challenge you in a meaningful way. It is not trying to market itself to you, but rather earn your respect and your attention. For those who enjoy science fiction, it is so unlike any other sci-fi film that I’ve seen that I would very much recommend it to those also interested in the genre. I think for those whom also enjoy war movies may find this film enjoyable as well since it poses very interesting questions regarding human life that gave me that same sensation that I’ve felt in films based on wartime. Most of all, if you have a passion for film, I very much recommend this because of all the care and effort that went into it, brimming to the seams with techniques to admire. Personally, I also think this film is best to watch with a friend or others, as it helps to have someone to converse about the movie with afterwards to sort your thoughts, and I’ve always had plenty to think and talk over after each viewing. Most lately, I had the pleasure of attending the theater with a friend while a group from the treatment and recovery center MN Adult and Teen Challenge watched the film too. It was mostly a group of adult men, whom kindly paid for my friend’s movie ticket, and, as we were all watching, it amazed me to witness how such an energetic and lively group suddenly became very hushed and focused on the movie, just as enraptured as we were.

Where can I watch it?

Since this film was released back in 2021, it is currently only available for either physical copies in DVD or Blue-ray, or through online streaming. I own a physical copy but lack a DVD player, so I had rewatched the film on Netflix, but it will likely be leaving Netflix soon as Dune: Part Two will be premiering this Thursday, Feb. 27 as of the time of writing this. The other places where the film can be seen are DIRECTV, and TNT, Apple TV, Google Play Movies, Vudu and Amazon Prime. In preparation of Part Two, Part One also had a brief re-release in theaters which is currently ended.

I had originally missed out on seeing Dune: Part One in theaters during the time of release, and I was introduced to the movie through Amazon Prime in the living room of my aunt and uncle’s home. I was glad to get the experience of seeing it in theaters, and I hope to attend the opening for Dune: Part Two. However, when comparing the experiences, I do think the film is very enjoyable, at home in a place where you are able to better control the noise. There are many quiet moments in this film and the silence is just as distinct as the soundtrack. If you are able to watch Part One at home and you find that you’ve enjoyed it, then I encourage getting to theaters to see Part Two, to determine if you would like that sequel at home as well.

Final thoughts?

This is a film that will stay with me for a long time and one that’s so rich with detail, I plan on watching it many more times just to soak everything in. This film had challenged me to really consider how I’m spending my time and what I’m applying myself to, to pursue a meaningful creativity and admiration for surviving in harsh conditions and living with purpose. I encourage you to venture out into these treacherous sands of Dune: Part One, and to see just what the you end up learning about yourself.

[raguna-blade]

What remains of the Long Night

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

It is an inalienable fact that I have a personal, and mutual, relationship with the Night.

The start of it was by no means innocuous. During the twilight of the last age of mankind, in a story all too common, a city was destroyed, brought low by weapons both cataclysmic and uncontrollable.

To the surprise of no one with even a drop of sense, unleashing monsters that could not be put down confidently by anything lacking the power to core the planet like an apple was not a good idea.

But that story is something altogether different and not pertinent to the fact that at that time, as the steel warped within the highrises, as flames danced along the streets and screams filled the air, there was a single plot of quiet and peace. A massive park, so green and lush despite the flames that wreathed it that I was certain, positive, that I had merely died and was somewhere on the way to heaven or hell, and whoever it was that judged the souls of the dead and dying simply had not yet decided my destination yet.

Surrounded by the cool green of the plantlife, the stars that night somehow shined so brightly as to overwhelm to the rising smoke and brilliant flames, and the moon, solemn and full seemed to all the world an eye.

It was an eye.

In those days, the gods had not quite yet taken shape yet. Perhaps, as a matter of theology, they still haven't quite but at that time especially, well...

The sacrifice of an entire city, one of the cities back then which were dense with the lives of millions, to the night sky, that the attack would land unseen, that the night would hide the perpetrators in full, that has a tremendous amount of spiritual weight you understand.

And perhaps had I not interrupted at that time, the Long Night would have fallen, and the world would be altogether different.

But I did interrupt. A simple thing, but enough, but a desperate prayer to someone, anyone, to not let this be how it ends, that this terrible night would not be how the world ended.

And then I died.

Which Must be terribly confusing, but as I said, things were different then. If a mass sacrifice by force was enough to incarnate something terrible, it was, as is usually the case, the willing sacrifice of something innocent that would seal it away.

I didn't quite understand this at the time, but this had...repercussions.

In my next life, I was chosen, volunteered really, as a sacrifice, as one to walk into the wretched ruins of the city of glass and offer a prayer, and perhaps my life, to seal away the Devil God that slept there, waiting to escape that night, the longest night on earth.

As I marched through the bones of a once great city that, to my mind had to house tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of people, of buildings of stone and steel that were covered in so much rust and moss and grass and trees, in dunes of ground glass, I felt...watched.

No one had, or could, live in that city. For Generations to even walk in was a death sentence, mortality imposed instantly if not a promise of a slow lingering death, a curse that would spread from you to your family, to the very ground you tread.

As the full moon rose, as I entered the lone wildly overgrown and twisted stretch of green at it's heart, the night deepened, the stars and galaxies spun wildly and the lone great eye of the night blinked.

Before me, upon a throne of warped metal, wood and bone was a young woman with wine dark skin, a brilliant white eye, and layers of cloth embossed with sparkling silver and gold designs that seemed to spin and blossom and wink out with each beat of my heart.

“You again?” she said, not unkindly, but with no warmth, “Am I to be sealed away again, to sleep for another age.”

“If you are the Devil God of the Long Night then...Yes. I am to offer a prayer, and set you back to sleep.”

She yawned then, struggling to pull herself to feet, as if she had only just woken from the slumber she spoke of.

“I suppose that may be my name, if that's what you will call me. Offer your prayer then, and if I find it wanting this will be your last night.”

And so I prayed, desperately. The song I had spent many years perfecting flew from my lips in time with the steps to the dance I had honed to a knifes edge. Each breath leading to the next step, each step to the next word, as the chime of bells slowly, too slowly, brought the close of the nights eye.

To be honest I barely remember what happened, only to find I returned to my village border a fortnight later, living only long enough to say goodbye to my loved ones and perish.

And so, as the Long Night would awaken, so would I find myself drawn out of death. With each iteration, I would recall more and more. With each night that threatened to never end, my soul was honed and warped, into something not quite human any longer, but by long measure not divine, until...Now.

Now, I sit at the foot of a throne, waiting for the night to be roused once again, for my life to be snuffed out once again, but hoping this time, despite it all, despite what she may be, that this time she could wake fully, and see the world that had for so long kept her asleep for fear of what the long night may bring.