#vladimir palace
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emvidal · 9 months ago
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loiladadiani · 1 year ago
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The Vladimir Palace
Grand Duke Vladimir Alexandrovich's Palace was the last imperial palace completed in Saint Petersburg. Building took place between 1867 and 1868, but decoration work continued for several years (until 1874). The Palace was blessed on the date the Grand Duke married Maria Pavlovna, and the couple moved right in. The palace's facade was done in the neo-Renaissance style; the interiors are in different styles: Neo-baroque, neo-rococo, neo-gothic, Russian, and “Moorish style.” The Vladimir Palace has 360 rooms.
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A photograph of a staircase that has become iconic.
Today, the palace looks very much like it did when it was being inhabited by the Vladimirs. Many of the Grand Duke's exquisite collections of paintings, porcelains, etc., remain complete and undamaged.
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The photographs above show the palace's theater, where the Vladimirs held frequent concerts and recitals in honor of their guests.
The Vladimir Palace owes its excellent state of conservation to the fact that after the October Revolution, the palace was made the 'Academics' House' (Дом Учёных, named after Maxim Gorky); the building was frequented by academics and scientists who knew the historical value of the palace and its contents and thus treated their surroundings kindly. Consequently, its interior is better preserved than other Romanov family residences. Much attractive tiling and many internal architectural details have been retained. Not only have collections been maintained, but some have been expanded.
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The picture below is the "oak room,". One can easily imagine a ball taking place in it.
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Photographs of some of the sumptuous living spaces in the palace, including one of the library.
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Photographs of the Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna's famous Moorish boudoir. Notice the detailed tile work.
The Vladimir Palace is not a museum, but tours are given. It has become the meeting point of St. Petersburg’s social, cultural, intellectual, and scientific existence.
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lesromanoff · 7 months ago
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Grand Duke Vladimir and Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna dressed up for a costume ball held in their palace in 1883
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thestarik · 1 year ago
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The Imperial Family with Grand Duke Vladimir Alexandrovich at the Catherine Palace, 1907.
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tomorrowusa · 9 months ago
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Two years ago on Sunday, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy told Ukrainians that he and other high ranking officials would remain in Kyiv and defend the country against Putin's illegal invasion.
The video above, made less than 48 hours after the start of the invasion, was intentionally filmed outside recognizable buildings in Kyiv. At the time, Russian assassination squads were out looking for Zelenskyy. Invading Russian troops committing war crimes got within 22 km of the government district.
This video was one of the most audacious uses of the internet to date. If top government officials were willing to stand and fight, Ukrainians felt more confident they could do the same. 730 days after the start of Putin's planned three-day "special operation", Ukraine still stands.
Here's the Ukrainian text of that vid:
Zelenskyy: «Всім добрий вечір. Лідер фракції тут, голова Офісу президента тут, прем’єр-міністр Шмигаль тут, Подоляк тут, президент тут. Всі ми тут. Наші військові тут. Громадяни, суспільство тут. Всі ми тут. Захищаємо нашу незалежність, нашу державу. І так буде й далі. Слава нашим захисникам! Слава нашим захисницям! Слава Україні» Others: «Героям слава!»
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satureja13 · 1 year ago
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The Boys followed the Sun Flower Road and reached their destination for their 'PE Field Trip' - the Tandoori Palace! It belongs to Jack's Uncle Stefan and his partner Janis. Jack: "Thanks for having us here! It's amazing!"
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Jack: "There are cows here?" Stefan: "Of course. They are intelligent, have a great humor, are sacred in many cultures and Elsa over there is your meditation teacher."
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Janis: "But let's change clothes and have breakfast first!" Of course it's a vegan breakfast as to not offend the sacred cows. (Noxeema forced them to wear something colorful to match the location ;)
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Saiwa: "Really Jack? A whole pizza for you alone? For breakfast?" Jack: "What? I'm eating for two!" Saiwa: "What???" Jack: "This form and my wolf, omg..."
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Tandoori Palace is named after the indian restaurant in The Big Bang Theory. I already had a Tandoori Palace in Sims 3 -> here
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Outtakes
The Sunflower Road in Evergreen Harbor
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And when they were finally standing where they are supposed to for the first screenshot, Greg decided to mess it all up again -.-
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From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest
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wgm-beautiful-world · 2 years ago
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The Grand Duke Vladimir's Palace interior, Saint Petersburg, RUSSIA
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luminnara · 8 months ago
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Protector | Feyd-Rautha x reader
ANON REQUEST: your marriage to Feyd-Rautha is an arranged one, and your only task is to provide an heir. When you finally become pregnant, your new husband suddenly grows obsessed with you—but does he care about you, or is he simply protective of his progeny?
Warnings: pregnancy, labor, and related talk; canon typical violence
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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Your marriage was one born out of duty, not love. You couldn’t even call it a marriage of convenience; there was nothing convenient about leaving your homeworld and traveling across an entire galaxy to marry someone you had never even met before. Yes, the Houses had agreed beforehand that you were to marry Feyd-Rautha, the Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, and immediately after the deal had been struck you had seen his face and read his writing, but you hadn’t met him until your wedding day.
You had chastised yourself for thinking it could be like the fairytales of Ancient Earth. You, a princess, your betrothed a handsome prince…in the stories of your childhood, he would have whisked you away, off to a great, shining palace full of magical wonders, and you would have lived happily ever after. Instead, your prince had proved to be disinterested in you, busying himself with his arena and his concubines, ignoring you most of the day. The Harkonnen fortress did not shine, nor did it hold any great wonders, and Giedi Prime felt far from magical, with its harsh black sun and polluted landscape.
After your vows, you had naively thought your wedding night would be full of romance. Perhaps you had been holding onto hope as a means to protect yourself, clinging to optimism to distract yourself from your harsh, sad reality. You had been all too eager to shed your dress and veil in Feyd-Rautha’s living quarters, though had not expected them to be ruined by his blade, and you had not expected him to greedily conquer you as if it were yet another battle in the arena. He had slept next to you that night, but had made it painfully obvious that he had no interest in holding you or even touching you, keeping far to his side of the bed while you remained far to yours. In the morning, you had awoken alone, and had realized that it was the beginning of a long and lonely road on your new planet.
Everyone expected an heir. That was the entire point of this marriage, a legitimate heir for the Harkonnen line. Anyone else could have done it—you were of fine breeding, yes, but any of the other Houses could have offered up a daughter to suffer at Feyd-Rautha’s side. Why it had to be you surely came down to the only things powerful men seemed to care about—money and spice. An allegiance with House Harkonnen protected your family, and your small share of spice harvesters on Arrakis added yet another drop into their vast bucket and one less smuggling operation to worry about. Your parents were happy. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was happy.
And you were miserable.
Two months after your wedding, your monthly cycle continued as normal, and you were forced to shamefully inform the na-Baron. After an annoyed sound and a grimace, he bent you over the nearest table and took you for a second time, leaving you to clean yourself up and cry at your husband’s callousness. You didn’t know why he couldn’t bring himself to care. You supposed he already had everything he could possibly want; wealth, concubines, a throne to inherit…you brought nothing of real value to him, save for the ability to produce an heir.
Time passed, and it became clear that Feyd-Rautha would have to touch you more than once a month if he was to have any hope of fathering a child. You cursed yourself for your apparent inability to conceive—fertility had been one of your parents’ selling points when negotiating with the Baron, and now, you couldn’t even do the one thing that was expected of you. It brought you to tears every night, the stress of being reduced to this and yet still being unable to perform your task. It was maddening, though you knew you were hardly the first woman to find yourself in such a situation. You did worry, however, that you may have been the weakest.
One evening, as Feyd performed his husbandly duties, he noticed a tear slipping down your cheek and paused. You felt a rough hand cup the side of your face and opened your eyes to find your husband staring at you with dark eyes, his head tilted to suggest he was curious.
“Tears?” He asked in his raspy voice that was still so alien to you.
“My apologies, na-Baron,” you looked away from him.
“You are crying.”
You stifled an annoyed sigh. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Do not worry yourself with me, husband.” You said.
“Tell me.”
This was perhaps the longest conversation you had had since marrying him, and part of you didn’t want it to end. You looked at him once more, finding him still watching you with that unwavering, predatory gaze, and another tear rolled down your cheek and onto his hand.
“I am sorry I have not given you a child.” You whispered.
“Then let me put one into you.”
His tone sent a chill down your spine, frightening and exciting you all at once. That night, Feyd-Rautha did not let you sleep, shocking you with his determination. It was simply because the sooner you conceived, the sooner he could return to his own concerns, you reasoned.
Sure enough, your period did not arrive when expected, nor did the next. A medical test confirmed what you already knew—you were pregnant, with Feyd-Rautha’s child. A Harkonnen child, who would grow up to be just as ruthless and savage as its father, you thought.
Upon receiving the positive result, you immediately set off to tell the na-Baron. He should not be made to wait; you wanted him to know that the entire point of your union was finally achieved, and that you could both go back to ignoring each other as usual. As you walked, you had the worrying thought that he may not even keep you alive after the delivery.
“Na-Baron,” you addressed him upon finding him in his armory.
He looked up from the blade he was sharpening. “Wife.”
“I bring news,” you said, folding your hands in front of yourself.
“Then tell me, before I grow bored of waiting.” He returned to the hunting knife, looking away from you once more.
“I am with child.”
You watched as Feyd-Rautha paused, tilting his head to look at you. “My child?”
“Yes. Who else could it possibly belong to?” You asked, exasperated. “The physicians confirmed it just now. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
He nodded slowly, looking back at the knife in his hand as he thought. “I see.”
Whatever hopes you had once had for him to suddenly flip his entire personality at the news were quickly dashed by his lack of emotion. You left him there, a hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry, returning to your bed to be alone once more.
-0-
In those earlier days of pregnancy, you were often ill, sprinting from bed to the wash basin nearly every day to be sick. Usually, you were alone; Feyd-Rautha rose early, spending his mornings training and sometimes killing his instructors. Whenever that happened, he would come back, wearing blood and a grin on his face as if he had just won some great contest.
Today, however, he was enjoying a rare occasion of sleeping in. He had begun spending his nights in the center of the bed, crowding you as you attempted to stay away from him. One morning you had even woken up to find his arm throne over you, his body closer than ever. Now, he was sleeping, and you would have been content to let him remain there were you not busy launching yourself over him as you ran to the adjoining wash room.
You missed the way your husband sat up, eyes wide and frenzied as he pulled a dagger from beneath the pillows. When he found the room to be empty and free of danger, he grew confused…until he heard your retching in the next room, and slipped out of bed.
“Wife?” He asked from the doorway.
“What?” You groaned, leaning your cheek on the cool basin.
“…are you alright?”
You sighed. “No, na-Baron, I am not. I mean…I am, I just…”
“You are sick,” he pointed out.
It took every bit of willpower you possessed to swallow down the part of you that desperately wanted to throttle him. “Yes. I am. It’s the pregnancy, the pills from the doctors haven’t been working—“
“This has happened before?” He interrupted.
“Most days, yes,” you felt another wave of nausea coming over you and hunched your shoulders, preparing for the worst.
You never expected to feel a cool hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, nor the feeling of your husband’s chest against your back as he held you.
“Harkonnen women don’t have this problem,” he commented as he held your hair.
It was the least helpful statement he possibly could have made as you vomited once more, and yet it was also quite possibly the best.
“If Harkonnen women have no hair, then what do you pull?” You asked wryly, too ill and too exhausted to hold yourself back.
Feyd-Rautha stared you, unblinking, before a smirk found its way onto his lips. “If you are feeling brave, perhaps I will show you one day.”
You let out a laugh as the nausea ebbed, leaning back against him. “Perhaps one day I will finally stop seeing my lunch so many times, and then you can regale me.”
-0-
Your sickness faded as your pregnancy progressed, thankfully, but Feyd-Rautha’s company did not. By the time you were beginning to truly show, he was refusing to leave you alone, demanding your presence wherever he went. As a result, you sat in on many a sparring session, and he made up his mind to abandon the arena until after the baby was born. His sudden change in attitude was shocking; he had never paid so much attention to anything before, and now, his hands were constantly on you.
“I must keep you safe,” he had said when you first asked about it, and had acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.
You assumed he was protective due to the baby, the precious new heir to the Harkonnen throne. As its vessel, you were afforded some luxuries, but you fully expected that to change after the birth. For now, though, you were content to receive any and all attention your husband saw fit to pay you.
“That went well,” you said one day after the doctor examined you.
“He should not have touched you like that.” Feyd-Rautha growled.
“What do you mean? He’s a doctor,” you laughed, somewhat nervously.
“I did not like it.” His voice was tense.
“I could tell.” You grumbled, dropping your happy façade. He had nearly chased the doctor out of the room, hunting knife in hand. “Examinations are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”
“No more.”
“But—“
“No more strangers touching you.”
"Doctors help," you protested. "Don't you want your child to be healthy?"
At that, Feyd paused in thought. "...You may have a Harkonnen midwife."
"Because a Harkonnen doctor is too much?" You asked dryly.
He glared at you briefly before looking away towards the door. "Come."
You audibly groaned, one hand on your lower back. "Na-Baron, I am tired. I wish to retire to bed."
He looked back at you, and you caught an expression of distress on his face. "I need to train."
"You train every day."
"Yes." he said it as if it were obvious, but something in his tone suggested more; he made it sound urgent, as if it were something he had to do daily, and missing a single session would be disastrous. "Come."
You heaved a sigh and followed him.
-0-
In the months that followed, your unborn child grew, as did your body. You found yourself becoming large and bloated, your gait slowing as your flexibility waned. New maternity gowns were brought to you, an interesting mix of styles--the flowing, heavy garments of your homeworld meeting the simple, stark aesthetics of Giedi Prime. You found them strange, but at that point, you really didn't care; you would have walked around naked if no one would have stopped you. You spent your days feeling uncomfortable and awkward, with swollen feet and a sore lumbar region. Harkonnen servants brought whatever you needed, and your husband ensured--no, demanded--that all of your food be tasted by someone else while you watched so that there could be no chance of poison passing between your lips.
You wondered if this was simply some aspect of Harkonnen culture that the other Houses weren't aware of or never cared to talk about. Perhaps on a planet as harsh and toxic as Giedi Prime, infertility and infant mortality were more commonplace than the rest of the known universe. Perhaps this possessiveness was common among Harkonnen men, if conception was more difficult for their people.
Whether your theory was correct or not, Feyd-Rautha had certainly become even more attached to you. Not a morning went by when he wasn’t there next to you in bed, and as of late, he had begun waking you up by reminding you exactly how you had ended up like this in the first place. Before your pregnancy, he had acted as though bedding you were a boorish duty he had no choice but to perform; now that you were heavy with child, however, he was more than interested in you physically, constantly touching you with those rough, murderous hands.
You enjoyed the attention, and you enjoyed the way he squeezed and massaged you with surprising gentleness. He didn’t want to break you, you supposed, not right now; after the child arrived, perhaps, but not now. That was a grim thought, and one you had often—what was to come of your after the birth? Would Feyd-Rautha want more children, in case this one died some horrible, brutal, Harkonnen death? Or would you be disposed of, no longer needed after his legacy was secured?
You tried not to dwell on it.
One morning, you roused on your own, without Feyd’s interference. Wondering if he was even still there, you reached out to the side, feeling for him—and you nearly jumped when you felt bare flesh beneath your hand. When you rolled onto your back with considerable effort and turned your head to the side, you saw that your husband was there, still sleeping, and that what you had felt was his exposed chest.
You took the moment to look at him, really look at him. He seemed so peaceful like this, when he wasn’t fighting and killing. You had seen him take lives so quickly that his victims hadn’t even known they had died, and you had wondered how someone could be so dismissive of those around them. The first time you had watched your husband slit a throat, you had nearly vomited, and he had found your revulsion amusing; the most recent, however, you had simply sighed and looked away. You were desensitized, it seemed, just like he was, and now, you slept just as easily after watching him commit horrendous acts of violence as he did now.
Feyd-Rautha was handsome as far as Harkonnens went. His skin was smooth like marble, free of the scars and bruises one might expect to see on a warrior. His face, usually so harsh during the waking hours, was relaxed now, and you realized he was beautiful. You couldn’t keep yourself from brushing your fingers over his lips and feeling how surprisingly soft they were, though in a way, this felt wrong. Feyd-Rautha didn’t strike you as the kind of person who would allow this sort of touch, but when would you have this opportunity again? He always rose first in the morning and slept last at night. You never caught him with his guard down, and you kept your hands to yourself during the day. This was the only time you could marvel at him like this.
As your fingers ghosted across his cheek, he twitched, and you froze. Then, to your horror, an eye cracked open, and you knew that he had been awake all along.
When you moved to pull away, he caught your wrist, then covered your hand in his. He held your gaze for several long, strange moments, and you realized that he hadn’t simply been awake—he had been allowing you to touch his face, to explore him in a way you had never been brave enough to before. It felt like a gift, in a way. In his way.
“I apologize,” you breathed, unable to look away from him.
“Why?” He asked, voice deep and rough with sleep.
“I should not have touched you without permission.”
“I am your husband,” he said. “And you are carrying my child. You do not need permission to touch me.”
Somehow, you knew his words carried a deeper meaning. You knew you were one of, if not the only, one on all of Giedi Prime whom he had said those words to. And for the first time since marrying him, you felt that Feyd-Rautha was truly your husband.
-0-
He was with you when the labor began.
You had been lounging in your shared chambers, enduring the final week of your pregnancy. It felt bittersweet, in a way; you had no way of knowing then if you would ever be experiencing this again, and a part of you desperately wanted to hold onto it while the rest was fed up with feeling massive and uncomfortable every day.
Feyd-Rautha had been agitated all morning. It was as if he had known something was about to happen, and he had spent his time barely containing himself as he paced and sharpened knives, attempting to keep to himself and leave you alone and doing a piss poor job of it. You had been ready to chase him out of the room—or at least attempt to—when you felt your waters go and the panic set in.
That had been three hours ago.
Now, you were in your bed, and a shockingly-diligent Harkonnen na-Baron had yet to leave your side. He had briefly stepped into the corridor to bellow at the nearest passerby and your midwife had arrived very quickly as a result, but after that, he had sat down next to you and refused to go anywhere else.
“Is it agony?” He asked as you stood.
You shot him a glare. “I would not wish this sensation on even you.”
He was taken aback by your tone, impressed, even, by the venom in it.
“A short walk about the room may help,” the midwife suggested. “I will assist—“
“No.” Feyd-Rautha was up and at your side in an instant, taking your elbow. “I will.”
You didn’t care who did what, you just wanted it to be over and done with. The labor was progressing quickly, the midwife assured after another check once you were back in bed, and soon, you were wailing and grunting, your face was sweaty, and the na-Baron was staring in awe. You were focused on the task set before you, one hand on Feyd’s arm as you pushed with all your might, and so you could not see the way your husband was looking at you.
When your son was born and crying at the top of his tiny lungs, Feyd-Rautha cut the umbilical cord with a hunting knife and then he stared. It seemed that the entire time, he was incapable of looking away, his eyes glued to either you or the new Harkonnen heir. You supposed he had been too enthralled to order the midwife out of the room, and the woman was smart enough not to push her luck—she did the necessary examinations as quickly as she could, then handed the baby off to you, busying herself with cleaning what looked like a murder scene and gathering the afterbirth when it came. Then, satisfied with her work and the health of the child, she left, and you were alone with your husband and son.
You cradled the infant, tucking him against your breast and pulling the edge of your robe over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He was born pale, like his father, but with a soft layer of hair that made you wonder how much he might grow to look like you. The midwife had said it before she slipped out, and you had to agree—he was beautiful, and you smiled down at him.
A thud startled you and you turned to see that Feyd-Rautha had fallen to his knees at your bedside, looking at you with a reverence you had never seen in anyone before.
“Feyd?” You asked.
He looked between you and your son, and you saw then that something had changed within him over those many months. Gone was the dismissive, uncaring husband you had wed; this Feyd-Rautha had grown to become a protector, one who would fight until his muscles tore from his bones, who would bleed himself dry for you.
“You are stronger than I knew,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek much the way you had with him all those nights ago.
You felt a lump in your throat. “Come here. Join us.”
He did.
Feyd-Rautha sat with you there, in your bed, the very bed your first child was born in. He watched as your son woke from his peaceful, short nap, and he was privy to the private, intimate moment of his first feeding. He held the baby, staring at him in wonder and what may have been a touch of fear, supporting the both of you as he helped you to the bathing room when you were well enough to stand.
“A son,” he said, watching the baby sleep that night.
“Yes.” You mumbled, exhausted and nearly asleep as well. “Are you pleased, husband?”
“I would have been just as pleased with a daughter.”
That surprised you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him propped up on an elbow, watching your son as he slept in his simple Harkonnen manger. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the child. “I can teach a daughter to fight just as well.” Finally, he looked down at you. “Are you well?”
“As well as can be expected.” You sighed.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am,” you answered him, sleep already dragging you down.
You barely felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you barely heard his voice as he said,
“I am as well.”
-0-
You had expected Feyd-Rautha to grow cold in the weeks following your son’s birth, but he never had. He was attentive, caring for you in a way that suggested he felt some primal urge to drag back great beasts for dinner every night but modern living prohibited that.
Now, you watched as he stood before one of the massive windows within the Harkonnen palace. It was evening on Giedi Prime, but the black sun casted no shadows over the landscape. Feyd-Rautha held your son, whispering to him, and as you watched, you wished the moment could stretch on forever.
“Husband,” you said, approaching him.
“Wife,” he greeted you, turning.
“On your evening walk together, I see.”
He chuckled. “I am showing him everything he will one day rule over.”
“I am surprised you haven’t taken him into battle with you yet,” you said sarcastically.
“I will strap him to my chest so that he might taste the blood of House Atreides,” he said with a grin.
“The youngest Harkonnen warrior the world has ever seen.” You smiled, leaning in to check on what appeared to be a perfectly happy, albeit possibile bloodthirsty, baby.
“What are you doing walking alone?” Feyd-Rautha asked.
“Looking for you.”
“And now that you have found me, what do you intend to do?”
You leaned into your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. “Drop the baby off with the wet nurse, seduce you, take you to bed and then have my way with you.”
“You have my attention.”
“I thought you might be interested in trying for a girl this time…”
In a blink, he had spun you around and was dragging you down the corridor, and once the baby was safely tucked in with a nursemaid watching over him, you did indeed have your way with your husband. And again. And again. And you realized, as you retired to bed that night, that you were truly glad to have been arranged to marry Feyd-Rautha, heir to the Harkonnen throne and father of your children.
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sansaorgana · 7 months ago
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— FORBIDDEN FRUIT
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.
REQUEST — (1) // (2)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍
WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20
WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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FORBIDDEN FRUIT
Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.
That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.
Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.
But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.
While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.
You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.
The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.
He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.
“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”
“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.
“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”
“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.
“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.
This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.
“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.
But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.
“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.
“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.
“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.
It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.
If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.
“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.
“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.
Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.
Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.
“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.
You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like? 
“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”
“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.
He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.
Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.
“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.
You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.
“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”
“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”
“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.
“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.
“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.
“Let me go!” You protested.
“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.
“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.
“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.
Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.
“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.
“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.
You were a war prize.
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You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.
The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.
You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.
He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.
You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.
“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him. 
“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.
You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.
He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.
Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.
“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.
The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.
“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.
“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.
“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.
“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.
Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.
“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.
“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.
In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.
“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.
“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”
The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.
And every power came with a sacrifice.
Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.
“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.
Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.
“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.
“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.
“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.
“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.
You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.
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You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.
Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.
The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.
“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”
“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.
“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.
“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.
The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.
“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”
You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.
Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.
Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.
You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.
You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.
“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.
“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.
“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”
“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.
“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”
“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.
“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”
“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.
“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.
Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.
The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.
“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.
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Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.
You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.
The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.
When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.
You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.
Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.
He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.
“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.
“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.
You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.
Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.
Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.
In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.
Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.
He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.
“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.
“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.
“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.
He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.
“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.
“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.
“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.
“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.
“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely. 
“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.
“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.
“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.
Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.
“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.
“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.
You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.
“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”
“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”
“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.
He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.
“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.
Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.
“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.
“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.
For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.
You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.
“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.
“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.
“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.
You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.
“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.
You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.
When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.
“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.
Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.
“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”
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When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.
You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.
Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.
You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.
But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.
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The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.
“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.
“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.
Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.
“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”
“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.
The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.
“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”
“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.
Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.
“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”
“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”
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Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.
You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.
Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.
No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.
Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.
It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.
Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.
Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.
“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.
“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.
“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.
“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.
Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.
“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.
“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.
“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.
“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.
“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.
“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.
“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”
“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.
“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.
“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”
You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.
Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.
“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.
“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.
He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.
“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.
“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.
He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.
“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.
“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”
“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.
“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.
Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.
Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.
“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.
Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.
Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.
Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.
The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.
With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.
“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.
You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.
“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.
Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.
When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.
“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.
“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.
Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.
“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.
Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.
His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.
The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.
Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.
You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.
“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”
Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.
Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.
“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.
“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.
“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.
That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.
“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.
Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.
“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.
You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.
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Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.
You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.
But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.
And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.
You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.
You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.
Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.
“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.
“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.
“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.
“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.
“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”
“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.
You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.
One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.
And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.
You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.
“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.
“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”
You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.
“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.
“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”
“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.
You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.
Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.
“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.
“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”
“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”
Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.
“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.
“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.
“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”
“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.
“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”
“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.
“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.
“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.
You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.
The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.
“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”
“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.
“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.
“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.
“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.
“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”
“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”
“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.
You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.
“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”
“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.
“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”
“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.
“What is it?” You asked.
“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.
“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”
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MASTERLIST
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eraenaa · 8 months ago
Text
Birthday Present
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Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader Tag List
Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife. 
Warnings: ¿Enemies to Lovers-ish?, Arranged Marriage, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Blood Play, Fingering, Choking, Violence, Murder , Over Stimulation, Not Proofread
Word Count: 5,900 (pls bear with me)
Finally watched Dune: Part Two and needed to make a quick little fic because another psychopath to obsess over with has been unlocked.
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You dreaded for this day to come. You begged your father and brother to just leave you in the safety and comfort of your home, but still, they insisted— practically forced you to join them in the business venture they will partake in Giedi Prime. You walked out of the royal ship with your brother by your side, trying hard not to let the frown slip your face, especially when your fine dress had lost its color due to the planet’s black sun. Your eyes trailed around those who were present as a welcoming party for your kin, “Why are they all bald?” You whispered to your brother, who could not help but snort a laugh at your question. It was unnerving to look at them; no warmth nor life was evident. You were escorted inside the palace and it was barely different from the outside, still bleak and dark and plain. 
You feel curious eyes trail you as you walk with your family, who are being escorted to meet Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. You clenched your jaw and held your breath as you were met with the head of House Harkonnen. You heard tales about him and his state, but none could prepare you enough to be met with him face to face. If you had thought his subjects were already unnerving to look at, you would gladly give up the gift of sight just as long as you no longer had to see nor remember the image of the gruesome Baron. You quickly planted your eyes on the ground, having looked enough at the man who floated about in the middle of the room that you had missed the way that dark blue eyes were planted steadily on your frame. 
“Welcome to Giedi Prime, your Grace,” You hear the Baron greet your Duke father, and you stay silent and hope that they would be quick with the pleasantries and let you retire to rest after the long journey to their dreary planet. You hear the baron address your brother, making him step forward, and you pray for your presence to be ignored, but alas, your name was called, and you feel all eyes upon you. “A beauty this one is, your grace… she looks just like her mother,” The Baron mussed, and you could only offer a tight smile at his praise because you had no recollection of what your mother looked like because the price of your life was hers. You backed away and took your place next to your brother once more as the Baron began to introduce his kin. 
“My nephews, Glossu Rabban,” the baron introduced, and your brother nudged you to raise your gaze and show your host respect and recognition. You did as told and locked eyes with the dark blue orbs that had been entranced upon you ever since you entered the throne room. “And Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You swallowed thickly and turned stiff as the heir to House Harkonnen stepped down and walked toward your direction. Your linked arms with your brother tightened as the Na-Baron paused before you, bowing and taking your hand into his cold ones before placing a kiss on your knuckles. Feyd-Rautha wanted to smirk at the wide-eyed and blushing state he placed you in. The only greeting you gave him was a quick curtsy and a mumble of “My Lord,” The Na-Baron returned to his place at the right hand of his uncle and kept his gaze tranced on you. 
“How long are we to stay here?” You asked your father as he and your brother escorted you to your chambers. “Until the treaties are settled,” your father replied, and you scrunched your nose as the eyes of Harkonnen subjects followed you wherever you went. “They’re all staring at you,” Your brother mumbled, noticing the curious gazes as well. “Maybe they haven’t seen anyone with color or hair yet,” You distractedly said as you looked behind, the pair of dark blue eyes still haunting and following your every move. “Did I really have to come here?” You asked your father with a frown. “Yes. We could not leave you alone for an extended period— what will happen if our planet suddenly goes to war and you were there, left alone?” Your father asked, his protectiveness shining through. “Then I’d be surrounded by our army and best warriors.” You replied and earned a stern look from your father. “What am I even supposed to do here?” You grumbled and ceased by the door of your guest chambers. “You can explore the planet— do some sightseeing.” He answered, but that only severe your frown. “Sightsee what? Everything here is either black or gray— either bleak or depressing” You said, making your father sigh. “Just get ready for dinner,” He said, and you gave up on fighting them and their decision to drag you to the planet. 
A knock sounded out in your barren chambers. You understood that the palace was pushing some kind of aesthetic, but they took it to an extremity. There was literally just a bed and an armchair in your chambers. A very stark difference from your own room or even the guest chambers in your planet’s palace. Your handmaid opened the door whilst you looked at yourself in the mirror; you were to be escorted by your brother and were expecting him by the door, but hearing the gasp from your handmaid told you otherwise. You looked toward the chamber room door and saw the Na-Baron standing by its threshold; your maid stood by the side, head hung low, and was quietly trembling in fear. 
“Can we help you, Na-Baron?” You asked and smoothened the fabric of your gown. Trying your best not to appear unnerved by his dark gaze or his imposing demeanor. “I am to escort you to the dining room, my lady,” He said and offered his arm for you to take; you made no move to do so. “Oh…my brother was—“ you slightly frown as he cuts you off. “He is already there with your father,” He said, and you licked your lips and hesitantly nodded, having no choice but to take his offer to escort you. 
Feyd eyes curiously at the gown you fashioned and the decorations in your hair. You were a deep and vivid contrast between him and his planet. Your dress made of velvet trained behind you, the heavy and overflowing cloth cutting through the silence between you and the heir of House Harkonnen. You did not know if you should converse with him or just remain silent. And if you did choose the former, what topic of conversation would you even propose to the fearsome— psychotic warrior that is the Na-Baron? 
“How are you finding Giedi Prime, my lady?” His deep and raspy voice cut through the silence, and you thought of an embellished reply that would not offend the warrior. “Different… I— it is most unique, Na-Baron,” You manage to say after a short while, Feyd noting how you struggled to give a kind reply, your brows in a furrow, and your lips would open and close as you thought of what to say. 
You finally could breathe freely, and your stiffened form turned lax when the Na-Baron escorted you to your seat next to your brother and let go of his hold on your hand. You tried your best to keep your gaze away from any of the Harkonnens as you feared they would immediately see the fear and agitation in your eyes. “Is this human?” You lowly whispered to your brother, poking the cut of unidentified meat on your plate. Feyd smirked to himself as he heard the fear in your voice— overly wary, and it would seem the tales of their house had been implanted in your pretty little head. “It is cattle, my lady… but if you do prefer human flesh, our cooks could arrange that for you,” Feyd-Rautha relished at how your eyes widened and your cheeks blossomed with color once more. It was an interesting reaction that he had never been accustomed to see. “No, this is fine,” You quickly said and did not miss the amused smirk on the Na-Baron’s pale lips. 
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The following day, you were set to tour around the planet with your brother along with the Na-Baron. You three had just stepped out of the palace and into the light of the black sun when your brother was suddenly summoned to attend the negotiations. You took a sharp breath and turned to your sibling, widening your eyes and silently willing him not to leave you alone in the presence of the Na-Baron. Your brother could only shrug and place a quick, chaste kiss on the top of your head as he ran back inside the castle walls. 
An awkward and uneasy silence followed you and your host as the tour began. Guards following the both of you in the direction of a large structure— that is as specific as you can get as the resident of the planet has still said no word as to where he was leading you. 
“This… is the arena,” the Na-Baron finally said, and you could hear the delight in his tone as if the brutal and triangular infrastructure had brought him calm and serenity. You nodded your head and wandered your eyes upon the high walls and countless seats that surrounded you. “You shall return here soon enough, a special celebration to take place in a few days,” You hear him say as your gaze was still stuck high above where you were guessing private boxes were placed. When Feyd did not hear your reply, he stepped closer and boldly placed a hand on your waist, making you jump in shock and quickly step away. “You don’t talk much, do you?” He asked. He usually was quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary and the silence he provided brought an additional sense of mystery to him. But with you… he could not restrain himself as he felt the want— the need to speak. An urge he had never had before, an urge he could not control. 
“I prefer more to listen, my lord,” you answered, a white lie on your lips. You love to talk and blab about anything and everything, but you just did not want to exercise such habits with or around him, fearing he’ll grow annoyed by your yapping and slit your throat— a habit you heard he was fond of. You heard the Na-baron hum, and you avoided his gaze as he stared you down, as if trying to deduce if what you had said was the truth.
You followed the Na-Baron as he led you to more sights and structures that the Harkonnens take pride in. But everywhere you two went, you could not be rid of the curious and wondering gazes that followed. It was not a new scene; being a duke’s daughter meant you had been accustomed and exposed to the public. But being exposed and stared at and gawked at by people so different than you felt entirely unnerving. It made your skin crawl and your body tense uncomfortably. Your once proud and straight stature turned demure and small as you walked the dark and gray halls of the castle, you being the only thing of color and vividness in there, making you feel out of place and suffocated by the plainness.  
The Na-Baron escorted you back to the guest wing and paused by your door; you quickly curtsied and disappeared behind the metal doors to finally put some space and distance between you and the lord you had been forced to spend the day with. Feyd’s jaw clenched as the metal doors closed upon him; if it were anyone else, his patience would have run thin, and he would not looked kindly upon your impertinence. But even in your boorish actions, the Na-Baron could not help but find it amusing— possibly even endearing. 
As you were finished being prepared for yet another dinner, you turned to the doors once more at the sound of the opening, revealing your brother. “How was the tour?” He asked and sat by your bed as you stood in the mirror and adorned yourself with the precious metals and jewels. “When are we to leave? I… I would very much like to return home.” Was your reply as you still felt your skin crawl at how the eyes of the Na-Baron would asses you and your every move. “That bad, huh?” Your brother mused, and you sighed heavily. “I do not like it here, brother… I cannot… this place is entirely bleak and depressing.” You reasoned, and your brother only shook his head at your bellyaching. 
“They barely even have furniture! Their sun is black… there are no gardens or greenery and flowers to admire— I am quite literally the most vivid thing here!” You suddenly exploded, but your brother could only laugh. “Just a few more days, sister… we were most productive earlier. You’ll only have to endure this planet and its plainness for a few days more,” Your brother said, and you solemnly nodded your head, willing yourself to endure and be patient as your whole being wanted nothing but to return home. 
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True to the Na-Baron’s words, you and your kin were in the triangular arena a few days later. A grand celebration for the birthday of the heir of House Harkonnen. Feyd-Rautha stepped out into the black sun and walked onto the pit with the screams and cheers of his house’s subjects. His eyes cast above and searched for only one being— an attention he seeks to be entranced upon him. The Na-Baron felt his lips curl wickedly as your eyes were upon him, seated in the royal box next to your brother. Your expression trying not to show contempt or disapproval. The Na-Baron was known for his skills in fighting— he is the greatest warrior there is. Everyone was impressed and in awe by his skills in combat, and he was certain that it, too, would impress you. 
You clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side as the Na-Baron was relentless in fighting the remaining members of House Atreides. You planted your gaze on your lap and fisted the fabric of your dress as you hear the land of steel and the grunts of prisoners. You took a deep inhale as your brother nudged you once more, urging you to watch the scene as it would be an offense if the Baron caught you ignoring the efforts of his favored nephew. You swallowed thickly and returned your eyes towards the men who fought; there was only one opponent now. 
Feyd-Rautha returned his gaze to you, delighting as you still had your eyes upon him. There was only one prisoner now, only one more man between him and the amazement he thought he would garner from you with his violent display. But as Feyd-Rautha set his eye on the final prisoner, his jaw ticked, and his hold on his blade tightened as he noticed that the Atreides prisoner was not drugged. He turned his spiteful gaze to his uncle, the vile man simply smirking and giving a nod of his head. Dark blue eyes flickered at you, who had her lip between he teeth in anxiousness. The Na-Baron squared his shoulders and refocused; he could not be made a fool nor a failure when the eyes of his planet were upon him— not when your eyes were upon him. As always, Feyd-Rautha emerged victorious in battle. 
“The slave wasn’t drugged,” Feyd said as he stood before his uncle, his form rigged still with the pestering feeling that he might have failed and been humiliated under your gaze. You tried to kill me?” he gritted out, but his uncle was merely amused. “Tonight, you are a hero… my gift to you,” The Baron explained, but that did not sedate the rage in the Na-Baron’s being. “I ought to drown you in that tub,” he snarled, but his uncle chuckled at his threat. “Don’t be hasty… I have another gift for you,” that piqued Feyd’s interest. “A bigger one,” his uncle added. “The girl, the duke’s daughter.” With just the mention of you, the Baron noted the quick shift in his nephew’s temperament. Desire shining through his rage. 
Feyd’s lips staggered as he thought of a reply, as he thought of how his uncle was able to acquire you for him as if you were some mere whore and not a daughter of one of the great houses. “Her father approved?” He asked and saw as a smirk rose to the lips of his uncle. “He had no choice but to… if he wanted the treaties to take place and for war to not come to their planet— he must offer his daughter to you.” Feyd let a rare and sincere grin slip his lips with the thought of you being bound to him. 
By the guest wing, an ugly discussion was taking place. “Father, you cannot be serious,” You all but cried, “To that psychotic Na-Baron!?” You screamed with tears streaming down your face. You knew it; you knew coming to Giedi Prime was a mistake— your intuition warned you greatly, but you ignored it and complied with your father’s wishes and orders. “There was no other way. I’m sorry,” Your father sighed and tried to take hold of you to calm you down. “You would leave me here to be his bride? You would leave me here vulnerable in the desolate walls of these Harkonnens?” You cried in pain, but your expression turned confused as your father shook his head. 
“The Na-Baron, your betrothed, will be heir to Arakis… you shall stay and rule there with him.” You hear the hopeful tone in your father’s voice as he tells you that you will be the lady of the most coveted seat and planet in the universe. “You… you cannot do this to me— please do not do this to me, father, I beg of you,” You cried, only crying harder as your father took you into his arms and offered you his apologies once more. Nothing can be done; you were now promised to the fearsome and formidable Na-Baron. 
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They arranged for you to acquaint yourself more with your soon-to-be husband. Servants of House Harkonnen escorted you to him, and you followed mindlessly, but your stomach pitted in fear as you realized you had been led to the Na-Baron’s chambers. Your lips agape, and looked behind to see the servants hurriedly shuffling out of the Na-Baron’s room. You felt yourself grow cold and the life in your face went pale. You cautiously looked around the chambers and saw three women by your right, dressed and styled differently than the servants. The presence of women used to always bring you comfort in uncertain scenarios, but the three present did not aid your raging fear. 
“What’s so special about her?” You hear one of them drawl to the other, and you feel your lips upturn in confused fear. “Such a pitiful thing… weak and so fragile, could not even stomach to watch our lord handsomely fighting those puny slaves,” You frown and finally turn to them, the three just as eerie and disturbing to look at as any of their people, maybe even more so. “So what does she have to be rewarded with our great master Feyd-Rautha?” A third girl asked, and that is when you realized what their roles were. They looked at you expectantly, trying to know what you possessed to be rewarded or punished with the title of the Na-Baron’s betrothed. “I do not know,” you began, “Perhaps hair? Or sanity? Take your pick.” You boldly replied and watched as their teasing and amused looks turned scathing and jealous. Before any of them could make another remark, the sound of the door opening and boots walking the floor echoed through the room. Your expression was hard as you watched the three girls lower their heads demurely and out of respect as their master entered. 
“Ah, my future wife… I see you have met my darlings,” You turned to your betrothed, a smirk on his lips and his dark eyes sickeningly delighted as he was in a room filled with women he was certain would bring him much pleasure. You licked your lips and crossed your arms across your chest, your gaze flying to the three women who brazenly insulted you just mere moments ago. “You whores,” You boldly stated and let a fleeting smirk fly to your lips as you heard them hiss at your true statement. “My darlings.” Feyd-Rauth corrected, defending his loyal pets. You hummed and nodded your head. Finally, matching the fiery gaze of the Na-Baron. Every second you held his gaze, Feyd felt himself tighten against his trousers. You had always shielded your gaze from him, never letting him stare deep into those enchanting and lively eyes, and now that he did, all he wanted to do was stare into them, watch as tears would form when he made you cry in pleasure. 
“I always thought whores are acquired after marriage, but I suppose the Na-Baron is always one step ahead,” You bitterly mused at the man across from you, expecting him to grow enraged as you called his ‘darlings’ whores once more. But instead of rage, you only saw the smirk on the Na-Baron’s lips widen. “Are you jealous, little wife?” He asked and threaded closer, you let a frown slip your pretty face and a scoff left your lips. “Do not call me that,” You gritted. “And no, I am not… in all honesty, I am relieved in their existence if it means that you would be preoccupied and far from me and my bed; you could have a hundred ‘darlings’ for all I care,”  You stood your ground no matter how your mind went alarmed at the murderous look on your betrothed’s once amused expression. 
You chewed your cheeks as the Na-Baron silently motioned for the three women to step closer. You thought he was testing you, to see if you were truly unbothered and not at all jealous that your future husband was being satisfied by other women, but you gasped in horror as Feyd-Rautha swiftly took his dagger and slit the throats of his three pets. They fell at your feet, and you could only watch and step back in horror at the scene of black blood pooling and spewing from their throats. You were trembling, and Feyd-Rautha took you into his arms, forcing your face to look at him, enjoying the horror in your eyes. “Now, nothing will keep me from you and your bed, wife,” he lowly whispered, and you were defenseless as he captured your lips. Hungrily kissing you and pulling you impossibly closer to him to feel the softness of your frame as blood flooded under your feet. 
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All was quick to fall into place. One moment, it was announced you were to be wed to the heir of House Harkonnen, and the next, you were being prepared for the actual ceremonies. You felt bile rising and tears falling as you stared at yourself in the mirror. A gown of white in the make and design of your home planet rather than the fashion of Giedi Prime. “You look beautiful, sister,” Your brother complimented quietly. He, too, turned solemn as he had no way to protect you from the arrangements made behind closed doors. “Let’s just get this over with,” You mumbled and took his arm for what you believed would be the last time. 
You were being escorted down the aisle by your father,  Feyd-Rautha’s eyes upon you impatiently; he could no longer wait any further and suffer through the ceremonies and banquets before he had you alone in his chambers. After your kiss two nights prior, you quickly left the chambers and left the Na-Baron to want and desire more. Each moment that had passed has left him hard and strained, with no other outlet for his needs to be quenched and met; his only choice was to wait for you to be his wife. 
It should shame you to admit, but the kiss you shared with the Na-Baron didn’t leave you disgusted. It was alarming to note that your body had turned warm, and throughout the night, your thoughts strayed to wanting more. You had been kissed before, once, but it was nothing compared to the way Feyd-Rautha kissed your lips. 
You stood by his side as a man in front spoke in a language you could not comprehend or understand. The only thing your mind could focus on was the way the Na-Baron’s hand held yours. Cold and calloused palms enclosed around warm and soft ones. You raised your gaze as the man in front of the two of you finally spoke words you understood, announcing to the room that you and the Na-Baron were officially husband and wife. You set your eyes upon Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes were on your lips. Letting go of your hand and taking hold of your face to kiss your lips without warning. It was a quicker kiss than the one shared the previous night, and you were dismayed yourself as your body wanted more, so much more. 
Feyd smirked as he saw color bloom onto your cheeks and felt its warmness against his cold touch. No word was exchanged as he escorted you through the aisle, the cheers of his subjects ringing loudly; absent were the reactions of you and your kin. You were still silent during the banquet, only offering a ghost of a smile when you two were approached and presented with ‘congratulations.’ You tried to ignore the way your body responded when your husband placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze now and then through the fabric of your gown. “You look ravishing, my darling,” You hear him whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine. 
“Do not call me that,” you gritted as you had no wish to share an endearment he used with his whores. Feyd smirked as he believed that heard a hint of jealousy in your honey voice, “And what would you like to be called, wife?” He asked, and you clenched your jaw and thighs as that brought a surprising twist in your core. Your reaction was not missed by the Na-Baron, a wicked smirk spreading to his lips and his hand inching higher from your thigh. “Tell me, wife… are you too as excited as I am for the bedding?” He teased and nipped your ear, making you gasp, turning to him with shock and wanting-filled eyes. Your eyes shifted from his dark blue orbs to his plush lips, and the desire for it to be against you became increasingly prominent. You gulped as his eyes turned impossibly darker and his jaw clenched, you took a sharp intake of breath as he abruptly stood. “The feast is finished, leave.” That was all he said before he urged you to stand and dragged you to his chambers. 
You were like putty in his arms as he pushed you up against the cold wall of his chambers. Your lips roughly danced against each other, and his hands hiked up your wedding dress, leaving fire with his cold touch. For days, you had convinced yourself you felt no attraction to the man who had his lips on you’re neck and hand against your cunt. “You are a great actress, wife. Making me believe you hated me— wanted nothing to do with me, but that cannot be true, not when your cunt is so wet and ready for me.” You gasped as he inserted his finger inside you without warning— the feeling foreign, and you did not know if you should embrace the uncomfortability or the prospect that pleasure was quick to bloom. “So tight… my little wife had never been defiled— that shall change,” He mused against your lips, swallowing your whine when he inserted another finger inside your wet cunt. 
“M-My lord,” You cried at the curl of his finger; you heard him ‘tsk’ and rub his thumb against the sensitive bundles of nerves on your cunt. “Enough with the formalities. I am your husband, and you will call me by my name— you will scream my name when you come.” Your eyes rolled back as his other hand clasped around your neck, your husband thrilled and overjoyed as you only clenched tightly around him, and a pleasured moan slipped past your lips. He thought he’d have to be gentle with you— that he would scare you with his savage desires, but as he felt you cling and clench to him as he added more pressure around your throat, he knew you would be able to take and would be grateful for his brazenness in fucking. 
“Feyd… Feyd!” You cried as you felt your thighs tremble and your core painfully twists in want of release. You whined and cried as you felt his fingers slip out of you, your knees weak and your body desperate for release. “Patience, little wife,” Your husband cruelly mussed, his eyes locked upon you as he licked the essence of you clean from his fingers. You moaned as his lips met yours again, tasting yourself as his tongue teased yours. You whimpered as he placed his rough hands tights on your hips, imprinting his mark and making it known to you that he was yours. You groaned as he bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him pulling away to admire the red the beaded on your plump, sweet lips. “Such a pretty color…” he murmured and bought his finger to wipe away the blood and taste it, you growing more aroused as a rumble emerged from his throat. Feyd watched as more blood dripped from your lips, and he wasted not a drop of it, kissing and tasting all of you. 
Feyd moved the two of you to his bed, pushing you down on the soft, silk-coved mattress. You swallowed thickly as he took out his dagger once more, a grin on his lips as he saw a speck of fear in your eyes. “Such a beauty you look in this dress… but I know you’ll look better without it,” He took the dagger and cut through your fine gown, nicking your stomach on the way. Feyd zeroed in on your sweet blood once more, his eyes hungrily taking in your body that was now exposed to him. “Oh…” You moaned as his tongue soothed the cut he made, his tongue teasing you as it would thread lower but would return to the cut every time it oozed blood. “Feyd… please,” You finally relinquished and let your needs be known. He hummed as his cock grew harder at your moans. 
“What do you want, little wife?” he hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. You whined as his tongue teased your navel, and his lips threaded further south but quickly moved north again. You moaned as his black teeth gently bit your bosom, his cold hand pawing at the other, your nipples taut by his cold hand and hot tongue. “Tell me, little wife, what do you want?” You whimpered again as nipped your skin once more, “You. I… I want you,” You finally said and yelled when Feyd flipped you to your stomach. Anticipation sat heavily as you heard him shuffling to remove his clothing. You breathed harshly as you felt his hands on your behind, kneading the smooth, plump flesh; his thumb teasingly brushed your cunt, and you were quick to moan. 
“What did you want again, my pretty wife?” He hummed by your ear, his toned body pressing against your back, his throbbing cock resting on your derrière. “You, I want you. Please, Feyd… I— please just fuck me,” You cried and let go of any pride you had in exchange for feeling pleasure. You howled as his thick and large length pushed its way inside you. Feyd hissing as the tip of his cock was being squeezed by your cunt. You were wet, galaxies, you were wet. But not wet enough for your husband’s cock to slip inside comfortably. Friction and resistance were prominent, and Feyd enjoyed that tremendously. Excruciating pain first had to be felt before you could feel the pleasure that you were desperate for. 
You gasped and felt tears rim your eyes as a cold hand found home around your neck again. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Feyd hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you; his hand felt the trickle of pained tears, and he was determined to turn it into tears of pleasure. “Such a good wife taking all of me,” He praised and squeezed your neck tighter. You whimpered and raised your gaze, only now noticing that the wall that your husband’s bed rested upon was entirely reflective that you could see him in all of his glory. Knelt behind you and a pleasured expression on his face as he gradually moved his length in and out of you. 
It felt like eons before you finally felt pleasure, but when it finally came, it was the most blissful feeling you had experienced in your life. The way he harshly gripped your throat, the way that his lips would pepper kisses on your shoulders and back, was enough to quickly drive you into climax. One where you screamed and called for his name, begging him to slow down, but he did no such thing. Only increased his speed and moved his hand to draw circles upon your bundle of nerves, coaxing another climax from you, making you scream his name louder and your body over-sensitive. “Feyd, Feyd, no more, please,” You cried as your whole body was already exhausted and trembling. 
“I do not understand you, wife. Just earlier, you were begging for this… you were begging to be fucked by me.” He grunted as he, too, felt his peak to come. He moved his hands to bundle your hair, the texture so soft and foreign, his fingers running through the locks and pulling it to make you groan. “Such a perfect cunt, such a perfect wife. You will sire me many heirs… you will always be my side.” Feyd groaned as you squeezed his length tighter and tighter to the point he felt pleasurable pain. You hear his animalistic growl when he finally spills himself deep inside of you, watching through the reflective wall as his face contorted into sheer pleasure, his rasping voice repeating your name as you feel both of your essences drip on the inside of your thigh.
He moved your head for your lips to meet with his again, him biting down to draw blood once more. You pulled away and gasped for air as well as gasped in shock as you felt his once limped and just emptied length grow erect inside you. “Did you truly think we were finished?” He asked against your lips. “I’m going to fuck and breed you until you’re unable to walk, little wife.”
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austinbutlerslovers · 21 days ago
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Obsession
Label Mature 18+
🎃Kinktober One Shot
Summary Betrothed to Feyd-Rautha, the dark and terrifyingly handsome Na-Baron of Giedi Prime, you should be filled with fear, instead you are obsessed with him.
Harkonnen wedding traditions are brutal and cruel, a series of tests meant to prove your undying obedience yet you find yourself giving everything on your wedding night to ensure you are his one true Baroness.
🧡Depraved Smut🧡 foreplay•Dune style stimulation devices•temporary restraints •ovulation stimulator •breeding kink•multiple interchanged sex positions•multiple orgasms
🔗 Masterlist
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📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consult @burnthheparaphilia 🩸slight mention of blood, Feyds from a chalice for the wedding
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Yes 🤤 the unnatural obsession with Feyd is so real
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Obsession
Your heart raced as the shuttle descended through the thick, polluted clouds of Geidi Prime, the dark, industrial planet that would soon be your new home. The vast, mechanical landscape stretched below, black and gray, a dystopian sprawl where nothing grew naturally. It was stark, oppressive, and utterly foreign to you—just like the man you were about to marry.
Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. The name alone made your pulse quicken. He was dark, enigmatic, and dangerous, whispered about in terror. The nephew of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, Feyd was next in line to become the Baron himself, a title that would grant him dominion over the cruel, shadowed world of Geidi Prime and all who lived under his rule.
You had heard of him long before you ever saw him in person. The stories reached your ears like venom, laced with fear and awe. Even on your distant homeworld, far from the brutal politics of Giedi Prime, Feyd’s reputation preceded him.
He was a figure of dark fascination—a Harkonnen prince known for his ruthlessness in the gladiatorial arena and his cunning in the shadows of the political court. But it wasn’t until the day you saw him with your own eyes that the name took on a new, enticing meaning.
The Harkonnens had come to broker a deal with your ruling family—a subtle tightening of their grip over your people. Your father, proud and stern, had never been one to show emotion, but even he couldn’t mask the strain this decision was putting on him.
The meeting was held in the grand hall of your father’s palace. You were present but only as an observer, careful not to draw attention to yourself.
The Baron sat smugly in his chair, Feyd standing just behind him, a dark figure of quiet menace. Every so often, your eyes would dart to Feyd, stealing glances at the way he held himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
His sharp features, the cold intensity in his eyes, but that alone had been enough to stir something dangerous within you.
This was the final and longest of several negotiations, and you could see the tension simmering beneath the surface, the unsaid truths weighing heavily on your father.
He was prepared to give you away as part of this dark, political bargain. The deal had been struck weeks ago, an agreement to cement an alliance with the Harkonnens in exchange for protection and resources…at the cost of your hand in marriage.
Your father’s voice wavered as the meeting wore on. “She is my daughter,” he said, his tone strained. “I want assurances—more than just words.”
The Baron’s smile was a twisted thing, devoid of warmth. “You’ll get what was promised,” he replied, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. “The bargain is set. There’s no going back now.”
That’s when your father’s voice began to escalate torn between the weight of his obligations no longer able to contain his frustration.
“We made the bargain between our planets, yes,” he said, his voice rising, sharp with anger. “But my daughter is a princess—my daughter—and I will not stand by and watch her be treated like some pawn in your twisted games! I want assurances—real assurances—that she will be unharmed!”
The Baron’s smile deepened with a steely coldness as he clasped his hands together. “This is no place for sentiment,” he interrupted. “You’ve already sold her future. You would do well to remember that.”
That is when the discussion escalated, voices from your father and his advisors rising with every point of contention, their frustration growing louder in the face of the now cackling Baron, and then something shifted. The air grew charged, dangerous, and you could feel it coming before anyone else did.
One of your father’s personal guards—a man known for his loyalty, yet prone to impulsiveness—had stepped too close to Feyd, perhaps provoked by the tension in the room. His words had been a sharp insult against the Harkonnens.
You watched, heart pounding, as Feyd moved faster than anyone expected.
With a fluidity that defied his size, Feyd was upon the guard before anyone could blink.
The guard didn’t even have time to react Feyd’s movements were a blur—brutal, efficient, and terrifyingly precise.
In a heartbeat, he slammed the guards head against the table, his knife pressed to the man’s throat, his eyes alight with a cold controlled fury.
There was no hesitation, no moment of indecision. Feyd had claimed dominance in an instant, the guard left shocked he was now under the threat of death.
Feyds control over the situation was absolute. The room held its breath, waiting for him to make the kill, and for a moment—you thought he would.
The room was silent, the only sound the faint rasps of the guard’s breathing under Feyd’s blade.
But Feyd didn’t kill him. Instead, he leaned in close, his voice low and dangerous as he whispered something in the guard’s ear. Whatever it was, you couldn’t hear it, but the look of sheer terror on the guard’s face told you enough.
Feyd withdrew the blade slowly, deliberately, as though savoring the moment. Then, just as quickly as he had attacked, he stepped back, his face returning to a mask of cold indifference.
You had felt your pulse quicken, excitement rushing through you. There was something about him—his precision, his control, the way he could command a room with nothing more than a glance and a blade.
You had heard tales of his brutality, but seeing it in person was different. It was intoxicating. Where others might have felt fear, you felt something else—something far more dangerous.
It was in that moment, as Feyd stepped away from the trembling guard, his gaze sweeping across the room, that his eyes met yours for the first time. The connection was brief, just a flicker, but it was enough. His lips curved ever so slightly, as he stared at you as if he had already claimed you.
There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection—only the cold certainty that he saw you as his inevitable prize. And yet, the intensity of his focus made it impossible for you to think of anything else. It was almost maddening the way he could make you feel like he already owned you, without ever laying a hand on you and it was the beginning of something darkly inevitable.
He had seen you watching him, and you had seen him for what he truly was—a force of control, of power, of dominance. You had always heard the Harkonnens were dangerous, but it wasn’t until you saw Feyd that day you realized how deeply you craved that danger. And from that moment on, your obsession with him began to grow.
You hadn’t been given a choice in the matter; the day of the marriage ceremony had already been arranged on Giedi Prime.
It was assumed you would be an unwilling captive, terrified of this unhinged manipulative Harkonnen. Everyone warned you to be prepared for the worst, to expect coldness, cruelty—maybe even pain.
But they didn’t know you.
As the shuttle landed, your anticipation only grew, a thrill sparking deep inside you. You were completely obsessed with him now, this future Baron whose reputation was so dark, so cruel. You craved what others feared. And tomorrow, on your wedding night, you would finally be his.
The wedding was a cold, efficient ceremony. The Harkonnen traditions were harsh, foreign to you, but strangely exhilarating.
The current Baron watched carefully, his calculating gaze never leaving you as the guards led you forward to Feyd-Rautha.
The Baron had anticipated seeing you recoil at the sight of his nephew—his cruel sneer already forming as you placed your hand in Feyd’s.
But the excitement that rushed through you as you laid eyes on the tall, imposing Feyd-Rautha was hidden behind a mask of composer. You kept your expression calm, but inside, the thrill of standing next to him, of touching him, surged through you.
You couldn’t wait to be his, your obsession for him building from the moment you laid eyes on him. He was powerful and irresistible, your desire for him deepening with every glance you stole in his direction.
He had barely spoken a word to before the ceremony but his presence sent waves of anticipation through you. He was strong, and intelligent, his angular features making him impossibly attractive in a sinister way.
His blue eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous, and you knew instantly you wanted him, all of him, no matter how twisted or cruel he might be.
The procession began at dawn, the sky a sickly red as the first light filtered through the grimy atmosphere of the planet. The ceremonial gown they had chosen for you was unlike any wedding attire you had ever imagined, an artifact of Harkonnen cruelty.
It was not designed for beauty or grace, but to impose dominance, to encase you in the rigid structure of their traditions.
You were sewn into the gown, the black fabric clinging so tightly to your body that it was suffocating in its embrace, your chest the only thing free from the bodice.
The garment was designed to restrain you—to remind you of the life you were about to enter, one ruled by dominance and power.
Feyd, standing at the altar, wore a regal garment—black with crimson accents, the Harkonnen emblem across his chest.
His presence was commanding, his expression cold and unreadable, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, his claim laid into to you long before the ritual even began.
The ceremony itself was a test, not just of loyalty, but of strength, a series of grueling customs meant to solidify the union between you and the Harkonnen House.
The first was a Blood Oath, an ancient Harkonnen tradition that required both partners to spill their blood as a symbol of their commitment, not just to each other, but to the house itself.
A ceremonial blade was presented to Feyd, its edge gleaming dangerously in the low light of the grand hall.
Feyds blood was the first to be offered,a symbol of his dominance and control, and you felt your breath quicken as you watched.
Feyd sliced a shallow cut across his palm, the dark blood pooling in his hand. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no sign of pain—just the cold, calculated determination you had come to expect from him.
You had known this moment was coming, had steeled yourself for it, and yet when he reached for your hand, the weight of the ritual suddenly became far more real.
Feyd’s grip on your hand was firm, his fingers wrapping around yours pulling your hand over the chalice. The cold steel of the blade brushed against your skin, and Feyds eyes searched yours for any hint of fear or hesitation, but you held his gaze, refusing to look away.
The blade hovered just above your palm, the sharp edge gleaming as Feyd pressed it gently against your skin. You could feel the pressure, the promise of pain, and then, with one swift motion, the blade sliced through the delicate skin of your hand.
The sting was immediate, sharp and precise, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow down to that single point of contact.
You gasped softly, the sound barely audible in the silence of the hall, as warm blood began to trickle from the cut. It slid down your fingers in slow, deliberate streams, mingling with Feyd’s blood as it dripped into the chalice below. The crimson liquid swirled together, yours bright red, his dark and thick, a tangible symbol of the bond you had just forged.
Your heart raced, the steady thrum of it loud in your ears as you locked eyes with Feyd again.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The weight of what had just transpired settled heavily over you, as though the air itself had thickened.
You were no longer two individuals. You were bound by blood, by ritual, by something far deeper than any wedding ceremony could signify.
Feyd held your gaze a moment longer, the intensity between you almost suffocating, before he finally let go of your hand. The cut still throbbed, the blood still trickled down your skin, but the pain was secondary now— your fate had just been sealed.
The chalice, filled with the mingling blood, was lifted by the Baron as your hands were mended, a cold twisted grin of satisfaction playing at the corners of his lips as he inspected the contents. He swirled the blood together, indistinguishable now, just as your fates had become.
“You are one now,” the Baron rasped, his voice carrying a note of finality. “Bound in blood, as it should be.”
He offered the chalice to Feyd, who drank from it readily, his throat moving as he swallowed. You watched intently, your heartbeat quickening, knowing you were next.
Feyd offered the chalice to you held in both hands. His eyes bore into yours, filled with expectation and a dark intensity, silently urging you to drink. There was something in his gaze—commanding, almost daring—as if he needed to see you do it, to watch you take part in this ritual that bound you to him.
Determined to honor his custom, you took the chalice from his hands into your own and did not look at what you drank, only swiftly bringing the edge to your lips.
Just a swallow—and immediately, you knew Feyd’s blood was different, like ink spreading along your tongue, the metallic taste thick and lingering, refusing to dissipate just like this moment, you would never soon forget.
But it wasn’t enough to simply give your blood.
The next custom was known as the Trial of Chains, an ordeal designed to test your endurance and your willingness to submit to the will of House Harkonnen.
You were led to the center of the hall, where an iron structure loomed—a symbolic relic of Harkonnen dominance. Heavy, dark chains were draped over your arms and shoulders. You were forced to stand, unmoving, while the Baron himself recited a list of oaths you would take.
The weight of the chains grew unbearable with each passing moment, your muscles straining under the pressure, but you knew that showing weakness was not an option.
Every Harkonnen wedding had this trial, a display to prove the new spouse’s fortitude. Failure meant dishonor, and in some cases, death.
As the trial continued, Feyd watched you closely, his eyes scanning your every movement, gauging whether you would falter.
But you did not. Despite the heaviness of the chains, despite the cold sweat that began to form on your brow, you stood still, the weight nothing compared to the determination to please him.
By the time the Baron finished the oaths, you felt as though the chains had become a part of you—symbols of the power and control you had willingly accepted.
The last and most chilling custom was The Binding of the Will, a psychological test unique to the Harkonnen lineage.
A dark room was prepared beneath the Grand Hall, filled with a hypnotic scent that that made your lungs feel heavy with every breath.
A veil was placed upon your head, its fabric heavy and oppressive. It was made from a black intricate fabric that seemed to shimmer faintly in the low light. It was woven with delicate, sinister patterns—symbols of submission, of ancient power.
The weight of the veil was almost suffocating, obscuring your vision slightly, casting everything around you in a dim, distorted haze.
You could feel its texture against your skin, cold and unyielding, a physical reminder of the role you were about to play.
You were made to kneel on a white cold stone altar, your knees resting on the unyielding surface as you felt the weight of the veil draped over your head.
Feyd took his place in front of you and you were left alone together in the dimly lit room.
In the heavy silence, you could hear your own shallow breathing, loud and uneven beneath the heavy veil.
Each breath felt more labored, the weight of the ritual and the veil combining to stir a slight panic in your chest.
For a brief moment, it felt overwhelming—the room, the ritual, the weight of the fabric that seemed to trap you in place. But then, through the haze of the veil, you caught sight of Feyd’s eyes.
He was watching you, his gaze almost reverent for what you had endured, and that look alone—anchored you to him.
His hand reached for yours, lightly tracing his finger along your outstretched palm.
It was something you somehow knew was against tradition, against his customs, and yet you couldn’t help but smile at him, utterly enamored.
He met your eyes, and there was a flicker of satisfaction in them, a possessive gleam that held you in place. Then, just as quickly, his hand slipped away, clasped behind his back.
The doors to the room slowly opened as an ancient Harkonnen master entered draped in a cloak of shadows.
In his hands he held a metal prism. His movements were slow and paced, his form almost blending into the darkness that surrounded him.
He approached Feyd offering him the prism without a word which Feyd accepted with reverence bringing it to his forehead before lowering it to his chest.
It was an old relic ancient even, passed down through generations of Harkonnens, The dark, polished surface gleamed under the low light.
Feyd then brought the prism toward you and under your veil. His hand was steady as he pressed a hidden mechanism. With a soft click, the panels unfolded and a cloud of smoke plumed from it.
You tried not to inhale it, but the smoke found its way into your lungs thick and sweet with every shallow breath.
Slowly a warmth began to seep into your veins, spreading inch by inch through your body, a creeping sensation, as though something dark was settling inside you, rooting itself deep within.
You softly gasped as everything around you blurred, the room seeming to shift and warp before your eyes, becoming both infinite and claustrophobic all at once.
Your limbs grew heavy, but your mind floated away, detached from the physical weight of your body.
The air was no longer suffocating but welcoming, each breath drawing you deeper into a dreamlike haze.
Feyd watched you closely until your head lulled your eyes fluttering, then he closed the lid removing the prism.
The master began speaking a series of words in a language you didn’t recognize, words that held a strange, almost hypnotic power.
The words, when spoken, worked deep into your mind, attempting to root out your fears, your weaknesses, and plant a binding suggestion that you would never defy the will of your husband, nor the Harkonnen family.
This binding wasn’t meant to break your spirit completely, but rather to tether it—making sure that, while you might fight or resist, you would always come back, always remain under his control.
The master’s voice was a low, droning chant, and with every word, you felt an eerie surge of calm settle over you, as though the very air was wrapping around your mind, coaxing it to bend.
By the end of the ritual, you felt a strange sense of liberation and captivity.
You had passed every test, met every challenge. You had shown them that you were worthy to stand beside Feyd Rautha, but in doing so, you had also surrendered a part of yourself to the darkness that was the Harkonnen legacy.
As the ceremony concluded, Feyd stepped toward you, the cold, calculating look in his eyes replaced with something deeper, more genuine. He took your hands in his, and though the touch was possessive, you felt a connection, a burning energy between you.
The Baron watched from the shadows as Feyd removed the veil, his lips curling into a twisted smile. You had passed the tests and now you belonged to Feyd-Rautha, bound by blood, chains, and will.
As you walked together from the hall, the dark traditions of the Harkonnen now coursing through your veins, you realized you had entered their world, and you would never leave it.
The moment the heavy doors of the ceremonial mating chambers closed behind you, the air between you shifted, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken tension.
Feyd’s eyes bore into you, calculating what he do with you now that you were alone.
His dark gaze made your pulse quicken, and you could feel the anticipation thrumming through your veins.
“You enjoyed the ceremony, didn’t you?” Feyd’s voice asks with a low rasp, as he took a slow step toward you, his strong frame towering over yours.
“You are the first bride to complete it,” he reveals, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
You meet his gaze without flinching, though a strange haze clouds your thoughts, a light sweat dampening your skin.
Whatever they had given you during the ceremony still lingers in your body, making everything feel distant and sharp all at once.
Your heart races with your limbs feeling heavy and light at the same time but a dangerous, daring look flickers in your eyes.
“Maybe I am not like most brides.” You respond the words slipping from your lips.
A wicked smile tugs at the corner of Feyds lips with intrigue. “No, I suppose you’re not,” he says, his eyes dark with something unspoken as he watches you, his gaze lingering on the subtle glisten of your skin.
He moves closer, his hand suddenly gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
His touch is firm, possessive, his fingers cold against your skin, but it only makes you crave more.
“Do you know what’s expected of you tonight?” he asks, his voice low and dark, watching the way your eyes flutter slightly under the heavy weight of opium coursing through your veins from the ritual.
You nod, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes.”
Something flickers in Feyd’s eyes—interest, surprise—and a slight grin forms at the corner of his lips.
“On your knees,” he says, his voice low and commanding. His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and your legs move of their own accord, sinking into the cold black stone floor beneath you.
Feyd takes his time, circling you , assessing you. His footsteps are slow, deliberate, as the anticipation increases within you, your skin prickling with both fear and excitement.
“You think you understand what tonight is,” he muses, stopping behind you. His fingers sliding into your hair, pulling gently at first, then sharply enough to yank your head back making you cry out.
“Pleasure and pain” he says softly releasing your hair. “Because only through one can you fully experience the other.”
Your heart races as he leaves your side, pressing a button that makes a sleek ledge rise from the floor. When it reaches the desired height, a lid slides back, revealing several items on its surface.
You can’t see what he’s selecting, but the soft clink of metal makes your breath catch in your throat, sending a wave of anticipation coursing through you.
He returns, standing before you once more, and in his hands, he holds two items—one, a smooth handled device with a phallic tip that that glints menacingly in the dim light, and the other, a small, polished stone that pulses with a faint, white inner glow.
His lips curl into a smirk as he crouches down to meet your eye level.
“Do you know what these are?” he asks the question rhetorical as you look at each object.
“No” you breathe looking up to him.
“These will show me everything I need to know about you—how much you can take before you break.” He grins.
He manipulates the handled phallic device turning it on with a quiet hum that makes your nerves tingle. Without warning, he lifts your gown pressing the phallic tip between your legs against your clit, its vibrations intense and immediate.
Your body jerks at the sensation, your muscles tightening against the onslaught of stimulation. Feyd’s eyes darken as he watches you struggle to maintain control, your hips rocking as you begin to give in.
“You will stay still,” he commands, his voice laced with authority. “No matter how much you want to move, you will stay right here until I say otherwise.”
You stifle yourself as the device steadily hums against you, its pulsing rhythm sending waves of pleasure through your body teasing the edges of your desire, leaving you aching for more.
Feyd watches every twitch of your body, every slight movement of your hips as you try, unsuccessfully, to remain still, enduring the pleasure. His eyes gleam with sadistic delight, savoring your frustration as your arousal drips from the device onto the floor.
You want to scream in pleasure, and just when you think you can’t handle any more, Feyd reaches for the glowing stone. The warmth radiating from it as he places it against your chest where it remains in place without his touch.
A sudden, electric current emits from the stone, shooting through your chest, igniting every nerve ending in your body. It is unlike anything you have ever felt before —and the dual stimulation of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm your senses.
The vibrations from the device meld with the energy from the stone, sending jolts of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Your muscles tense and weaken under the unrelenting stimulation, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as each wave of sensation builds, layer upon layer, until you’re trembling in desperation.
“Not yet,” Feyd whispers as his hands finally began to roam over your body. His fingers grazing your constricting gown with approval, amplifying the sensation of the two forces at work within you. He is testing you, pushing you to the edge, but will not allow you to fall.
His hand grasps your chin tilting your face upwards to meet his eyes. “You’re mine, and tonight, you’ll learn what that means.” He says looking at you with a grin, his black smile so seductive you involuntarily moan for him.
He twists the handled device between your legs, forcing the phallus inside of you. The onslaught of pleasure is relentless, its rhythm changing every time you think you might get used to the intensity.
The stone on your chest begins sending sharper pulses of pain through you, alternating with the vibrations, each shock more intense than the last.
You try to stay still, try to obey, but your body starts betraying you. Your hips move involuntarily with the device, and a low tsk from Feyd tells you he has noticed and is displeased.
His hand is suddenly in your hair, yanking your head back, his other hand pressing the stone harder against your chest, making the sensation intolerable as you wince in pain.
“If you come you will be punished ” he rasps darkly, his voice sharp in the silence of the room.
“But if you last I will please you greatly.” He says releasing the stones intensity. “But until then, you will endure” he commands.
His words send a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, the challenge in his tone igniting something deep within. His test pushing you, daring you to prove yourself to him.
His hand begins to stroke your chin as you look up to him tears brimming your eyes faint cries rolling from your lips as you endure.
He revels in your torment, the way your body does not react to what he knows is agonizing you in the most pleasurable way.
The sensations start to become too much, your entire body feels as if it’s on fire, each pulse from the stone, each vibration from the device driving you closer and closer to the edge of madness as a startling sound rips from your throat.
And then, as if knowing you are breaking, Feyd yanks the stone from your chest, now intensely glowing red as you fall to the floor gasping and trembling.
The metallic device still pulses inside of you, amplifying only the pleasure which now floods your body and the intensity is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—so extreme it feels like it’s tearing through you.
Unable to hold back any longer, you feel your body finally give in. Every muscle tightens as your thighs tremble uncontrollably and a shudder runs through as you gasp against the floor.
Feyd watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as you come, your body quivering until you finally go limp, completely spent.
He waits for a moment, savoring the sight of you laid before him, your chest rising and falling as you pant, utterly drained.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he reaches for the handle of the device, gripping it firmly.
His movements are controlled and methodical, as he pulls it out of you, the sound of it leaving your body echoes in the stillness of the room, the slick, drenched surface glistening under the low light.
You lie there, weak and breathless, every nerve in your body still on fire from the intensity of what you’ve just experienced.
Feyd slowly grabs a blade from the table, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels over you, the cold steel gleaming menacingly in his grasp.
The sight of the blade sends a shiver of anticipation through you as Feyd brings it closer to your body, his smile dark and dangerous. His hand traces the lines of the dress, sewn tightly against you, a symbol of the Harkonnen dominance.
“This dress was made to bind you,” he rasps, the blade gleaming in his hand. “When I cut you free, you are mine entirely.” He reveals as he lowers the blade.
His movements are deliberate, calculated, and when the sharp edge of the blade touches the fabric of your gown, you can feel your heart beat quicken.
With a slow, precise motion, he drags the blade through the fabric, the sound of tearing cloth echoing in the stillness of the room.
The gown gives way easily under the sharp edge, the fabric splitting open in precise lines that expose your skin inch by inch. He carves through the material with deliberate precision, freeing you from its confines.
As the last of the gown falls away, you inhale deeply, no longer constricted by the fabric that bound you, the cool air of the room inviting against your bare skin.
Every inch of you is exposed to Feyd, the sensation sharp and invigorating, heightening the awareness of your vulnerability beneath him.
Feyd smirks as he looks down at you, his blade in hand, fully aware of the power he holds over you.
His eyes linger on your nakedness, and you can see the way his desire intensifies, the subtle shift in his expression betraying how aroused he is.
His gaze travels over you with an almost possessive satisfaction, taking in every inch of you knowing you are his to command.
“I will breed you now,” he says, his fingers brushing your skin, just lightly enough to drive you mad. “And you will come for me many times before dawn.”
He stands over you, his dominance absolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he places the blade upon the table.
He removes his ceremonial garments, pulling and unclasping each piece from his body until he’s fully revealed. Beneath the dim light, the chiseled lines of his physique are striking—each muscle sharply defined, his body sculpted with raw strength and power.
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a trim waist, the smooth, hairless perfection of his skin highlighting the contours of his abs and the hard lines of his arms.
His pale skin gleams under the dim light, his presence is overwhelming, his body a masterpiece of raw strength and dominance.
Your gaze travels down his body, exploring every inch with growing anticipation. When your eyes settle on the impressive size of his cock, you are filled with awe. The pink tip stands proudly from the thick, veined length of his shaft, and you can’t help but feel a surge of reverence, even honor, knowing that he intends to claim you.
Feyd is a force—ruthless, calculating, powerful and the knowledge that you now belong to him fills you with anticipation and desire.
He takes your arms, pulling you from the floor with a firm grip, and presses you down onto the cold, smooth surface of the mating altar.
The slick texture beneath your back sends a shiver through you, amplifying your sense of submission and vulnerability.
Without a word, he grasps your ankle, guiding it into a stirrup, securing it firmly before doing the same with the other.
Your legs are spread apart, knees bent, leaving you completely vulnerable to him. The air feels heavy as Feyd stands before you, his gaze dark and possessive, ready to take what is his.
His hand trails down your body, possessive and slow. “Tonight, you’ll know exactly what it means to belong to me,” he muses, his voice laced with dark promise.
Without breaking his gaze from yours, he presses a button, opening a small compartment on the panel at the foot of the alter pulling out a sleek syringe.
It faintly glows as he dispenses a translucent gel onto his fingers, the substance shimmering slightly in the dim light.
Feyds eyes are dark and calculating, as he slowly reaches between your legs, his fingers moving with deliberate precision.
His touch is cold at first, the gel slick as it coats his fingers, and with a slow, measured motion, he begins to slick it along your folds, his fingers tracing with meticulous care.
Feyd smirks as he softly spreads the gel between your legs, his eyes dark and calculating. “A special preparation, designed to ensure the legacy.” He says pressing his fingers against your entrance.
Then without hesitation he pushes his fingers inside of you, the gel cool and slick heightening every sensation.
“The Harkonnen lineage demands results,” he says, his tone filled with authority, “and I will make sure you fulfill that role.”
He slowly glides them deeper into you, the gel’s slickness easing their penetration. He watches you closely, his expression unreadable as his fingers move with a precision that makes you fully aware this is only the beginning of what he has planned.
His fingers reach a depth that makes you instinctively tighten around him, then he pushes slightly further, finding that perfect place as sudden a gentle ache begins pulsing on both sides of your core.
He pulls his fingers back possessively, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Another night, I will waste you entirely this way,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “But tonight is ensuring you belong to me, body, mind, and future.” He reveals his gaze deep with determination at the thought of owning every part of you.
The wedding night has only just begun, and already, you are his—completely and utterly his to control.
He runs his hands affectionately down your trapped legs, the touch unexpectedly soft, savoring the moment. His fingers trail along your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake, before he grips your legs firmly, holding them in place.
“You will fulfill your role as Baroness” he says with a slow, deliberate motion as he settles between your legs his weight pressing down on you.
“Your body will serve me in ways that will bind you to me forever.” he says almost to himself as his fingertips slowly trail along your cheek.
His gaze is deep, penetrating, as if he’s looking into your very soul, claiming you before a single word is spoken.
You reach up, grabbing hold of Feyd’s neck pulling him down, your lips pressing against his in a heated desperate kiss.
The boldness of your action surprises him, a low sound of approval escaping his throat as your body presses against his, your breaths mingling together.
You kiss him harder, your fingers digging into his neck, your desperation undeniable. “Now,” you whisper between breaths, “I want—I want all of you, now Feyd”
Feyd pulls back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
“You will have all of me, and more than you know how to handle.” he rasps, his voice certain.
Then, without another word, he positions himself, his cock hard and heavy in his hand as he strokes it, squeezing to the tip until pre-cum beads at the slit.
The intensity in his gaze never leaves yours as he takes his time pressing his large cock into you. He’s agonizingly slow, making sure you feel every ridge, every vein as your body stretches around him.
You moan in pleasure your grasp tightening onto his neck “Yes,” you breathe out, your voice trembling as he pushes deeper, “yes, yes,” the words slipping from your lips as he begins to thrust into you, the fullness of his cock overwhelming in its size exactly what you craved.
His grin only deepens as he takes you, savoring the moment, “I thought you’d resist…—fight against your new role…—but here you are, begging for it.” He says on every push of his hips.
“Yes,” you breathe, barely able to contain the rush of sensation. “Yes, I want it.”
His smirk deepens, black teeth gleaming as he sets a relentless pace into you.
Your vision blurs, the room spinning as your mind struggles to process the sheer intensity of what’s happening.
The wedding night is unlike anything you had imagined, and yet, it was everything you craved.
Feyd was unhinged, just as they had warned you: possessive, controlling, his thrusts rough and intoxicating, every part of your body fulfilled, pushing you to your limits.
Your moans of his name are so loud he thinks he is breaking you, pushing you too far, but he didn’t know you.
Every time he pushes harder, you revel it, moaning his name, craving more. The harder he breeds you, the more you respond, your body meeting his every thrust, your breathless gasps filling the room.
Feyd’s eyes widen as he realizes what is happening—that you are in pleasure, as unhinged as he is, that you crave the same intensity he does. A grin spreads across his face, wild and dangerous and he leans in, pressing his lips to your ear.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
“Yes,” you gasp, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer. “I want more Feyd.”
Something shifts in him hearing those words, his expression darkening with pleasure. He grips your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looms above you, his breath hot and heavy.
“You’re more resilient than I thought,” he reveals with a grin his voice filled with both awe and approval.
“I will give you what you desire” he says his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction, as if this unexpected strength only fuels his desire to push you further.
He watches you with a heated, intense gaze, his eyes dark with hunger as his hips snap forward, driving his deepest inside you.
The world narrows to just that moment—the raw, intensifying pleasure that feels too much, too good.
Each thrust after sends shockwaves through your body, and you can feel yourself unraveling, the sensation in your veins too powerful to contain.
Your breaths catch as your mouth opens in desperate moan, your eyes locking with Feyd, the way he takes you wracking your body in ways you never thought possible.
The sensation is dizzying, overwhelming, pushing you right to the edge of sanity. You can barely think, your mind clouded, altered, willing to surrender everything just to have more of him, more of this.
He continues to thrust his hardest, the force of his cock sending a tidal wave of ecstasy that crashes through, leaving you trembling, breathless.
Your body can no longer keep up with the intensity, and every nerve is on fire as you fall, completely undone, spiraling into bliss as everything inside you clenches tight, then releases in a flood of sensation that leaves you gasping.
Feyd feels you clenching on him as he stares into your eyes watching a strangled moan escape your lips, your body shaking as you come.
As your walls tighten around him, his control wavers, his face softening with a raw, unguarded intensity. His hands grip you tighter, fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to keep from completely falling apart. A low, primal sound emits from his throat, rough and strained, as he fights to maintain control.
You look up into his eyes, meeting that fierce, possessive gaze, and in that instant, something shifts. The warmth of his come spreads deep inside you, filling you with a sense of completeness that takes your breath away. You gasp, the moment overwhelming, binding you to him in a way words could never convey.
His hold tightens further, a silent claim, sealing the connection between you, leaving no doubt that you are his—now and always.
Before the aftershocks have even faded, you already crave him again, desperate for more, for him to fill you and take you over and over again until there’s nothing left but pleasure.
“-Please…” you beg him feeling the heat in your body remain.
Feyd chuckles, low and dark, his voice heavy with satisfaction as his lips brush against your ear, “I’ve completely wrecked you… and you still want more.” His hand cups your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, the smirk on his lips wicked.
“You’d do anything, for me wouldn’t you?” He asks pulling his cock back, just enough to make you feel the loss. “And I’m just getting started.”
The night continues, a blur of pleasure and pain, of control and surrender. Feyd pushes you further than you thought possible your obsession with him deepening with every new position.
He releases you from your restraints flipping onto your front and taking you again, his hands pinning your arms to the mat. The tension between his grip and the rhythm of his thrusts building until you come, trembling beneath him.
He pulls you back on your hands and knees his hand firmly at the back of your neck pressing your face into the mat. His hips driving into you from behind, each thrust harder than the last, until he finally comes satisfied with his release deep within you.
He brings you on all fours his fingers teasing your clit to work you faster as you push back against him until you come together.
He pulls you into his lap, hands cupping your breasts his mouth drawing new waves of pleasure from your core as he leans in to suck on each one. You ride him hard, feeling the heat between you growing until you shatter in his arms.
And as the night goes on, position after position you realize he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him.
He has found someone who can match his intimacy, someone who craves the same things he does, and it thrills him to no end.
By the time dawn breaks over the cold, industrial landscape of Geidi Prime, you lay together, your bodies spent, his arm draped possessively over you. His eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he looks down at you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.
“You surprised me,” he says, his voice softer now more affectionate. “I didn’t think you could handle me. But you did… and more.”
You smile, feeling a sense of victory, of pride. “I told you… I am not like most brides.”
Feyd chuckles, his lips brushing against your temple. “You will make a fine Baroness for me.” He says, with a deep sense of satisfaction.
“I will have you as my Baron many times,” you whisper, the words sending a thrill through you. You had craved him, all of him—his strength, his control, his darkness. And now, you had it.
Feyd smiles down at you, his fingers brushing along your hair. “Good.” He says his voice a dark satisfied rasp. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
🎃 END 🎃
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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 8 months ago
Text
The sound of the waves collide // Part One
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Hello everyone, this is my first time writing. I just couldn't stop thinking about Feyd and how his story could have been different. So please don't be too hard on this. This is just the first part and I cannot wait to write more (smutty) chapters.
By the way, I cannot listen to Deftones without thinking of him.
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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
FxM
All feedback is welcome <3
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You are Paul´s sister and after his love match to Princess Irulan it is on you to marry Na Baron Feyd ratha Harkonnen. And while you fear the unknown, there is a feeling in your gut that it may be more right for you than anything else in the known universe.
Part One // Part Three // Part Four
1.209 words
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There was no turning back once the decision was made. You were destined to marry Feyd Rautha and bear his heir, the Kwizadz Chaderach. It meant leaving behind your home, your family and though you never expected to miss her, even the Reverend Mother who visited your family so often. All the time you had spent learning the ways of the Bene Gesserit, the education your mother had given you it seems like they could continue forever. Only now did you understand the sadness that flickered in your mother's eyes when you complained about the long hours of the voice rehearsing or the never-ending combat training. She knew, even before you were conceived, that they were counted. Time was almost an abstract concept to you - the passing of the day in your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your family, was such a natural environment f, while your mother knew full well that you would leave them when the time came. 
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The news of your impending betrothal was so sudden and yet so expected. Paul's marriage to the Princess Irulan had been planned for some time and would take place in two weeks' time. 
"We will travel to the Padisha Empreros home for the celebration." Duke Leto announced. You will also meet your fiancé there. A week after that he will take you to Geidi Prime". 
You nodded briefly - there was no argument. And your pride would not allow it - after all, it would mean disappointing not only your father, but everyone in your family who poured their love, knowledge and kindness into your upbringing and training. But you couldn't help but notice a slight tension in Paul's muscles and jaw as he listened to your father speak.
As you left your father's hall, you took his hands in yours and let him out into the courtyard where you would be undisturbed. Lush green grass swallowed the sound of your footsteps and fresh sea air touched your skin. This palace was always your home and with Paul always at your side it felt like the most safe space in the universe. Not even the test by your Reverend Mother, the danger of the Gom Jabbar at your neck, the pain of the metal box she used could change that.
"Don't worry about me, brother" 
"And yet I do. Feld Ruatha is a brave warrior, but he is not known for his kindness. Rumours of his violent outbursts are well known. And his concubines are said to be vile creatures who feast on human flesh and encourage him to take pleasure in the pain of others. Baron Vladimir has moulded him into a being without fear, but also without pity. He has passed the test as we have, and yet I am not sure he is truly human". 
You felt a mixture of fear and anger rise in you. 
"And yet my fate is sealed, as is yours. There is no way out, so let us not wish for one".
Suddenly, Paul pulled you into an embrace so tight it almost knocked the air out of your lungs. 
"May your heart stay as brave as it is now, dear sister." 
And then you cannot hold back the tears, feeling the sense of security and love that seems to escape you with every passing heartbeat.
___
The preparations for your departure are a whirlwind. Paul's belongings, his books and his swords are gathered, as are yours. When almost everything is packed, you find a small glass box with a tiny fir tree inside and a note from your father, "A bit of home to take with you". Carefully, you place the box on top of the things you have already collected. But then you decide otherwise and place it next to a smaller box containing your jewelry, to be transported to your cabin instead of the cargo. 
Your brother's wedding to Princess Irulan attracts all the Great Houses to the Emperor's planet Kaitain. There are more ships than you can count, and even more navigators from the Space Guild, their faces covered with a sickly cloud of smoke from under their helmets. All of them dependent on spice. The one fabric that seems to bind all your worlds together. With Paul marrying the Irulan princes and taking over Arrakis, the Harkonnens could not simply be cast aside. So the Emperor made your match with his heir Na Baron Feud Rautha. Or so he thinks, and yet it was Bene Gesserit's plan all along. Princess Irulan seems to understand this too, for she sends for you the day after your arrival. You feel honoured by the invitation, but also a little nervous. As soon as you enter her chamber, you curtsy to her. 
"Princess, thank you for the invitation" 
"Please call me Irulan, as we are to be family for three days. Please join me for a walk"
You nod and follow her through the light-filled halls. Hers and your ladies-in-waiting follow close behind.
"I have a present for you," she says, her eyes twinkling. 
You are not sure what to make of it. You are both familiar with the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, and you know that the gift is more than just that. You enter a small room with a single table and a small metal plate on it. "It is a book about the Harkonnen, their house and their planet Geidi Prime. You can find any information that might be useful." Your cheeks flush pink as you realize the meaning. Princess Irulan knows what her love match with Paul has cost you. That he should have been a girl to marry a Harkonnen and yet Lady Jessica decided otherwise and by disobeying her orders made you the one to live on the inhospitable planet.
"Thank you for your generosity, Irulan"
"There is nothing to thank me for," she says, leaving you alone in the room.
As soon as you have returned to your chambers, you will find Lady Jessica waiting for you. 
"You are to meet Feyd Rautha tonight before the banquet."
"I understand." 
"This is your chance to make the right impression. Remember, fear is a small death"
"Yes, mother."
A lush green dress has been laid out for you, with small gold clasps at the shoulders and tiny glass beads forming leaf shapes around the bodice and hood of the dress. As the dress reaches the floor, it still feels as if you are not wearing enough to protect yourself. As your ladies-in-waiting prepare your hair, you try to calm yourself. When all is said and done, your family is summoned to the Emperor's Hall - as soon as you enter it feels like your skin is on fire, you feel like someone is watching you and then your eyes meet a muscular figure standing at the feet of the emperor´s throne. He is more of a statue, perhaps, than he is a man - hairless, with trained muscles and contrasting black uniform and piercing blue eyes. Everything else seems to fade away, narrowed down to this moment, your heartbeat and the intense gaze of Na Baron Feed Rautha Harkonnen.
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sassyfrassboss · 11 months ago
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So as a daughter of a former courtier, I have some information of such to share.
What Meghan Wants - this wasn’t just about the wedding, as when Harry proposed he proposed with a basic ring and Meghan wanted something more bling so to speak and alongside Harry, approached The Queen and basically demanded that she have the centre emerald of the choker necklace placed into a diamond pavé ring alongside two other large diamonds from the royal collection, which I’ve heard were from the Victorian or Georgian era.
When the Queen said no, Meghan got venomous and is the reason why the Queen said she was evil. When they couldn’t get any further, they apparently approached The Earl Spencer to have him hand over diamonds from the Spencer tiara to place into the tiara, to which he denied. This was among the reasons why he did not attend the christening, the wedding he did attend because of optics.
The hatred of Catherine links back to a time when Meghan got drunk while living in Kensington Palace’s cottage with Harry, and threw a large party that went on for hours. William was apparently away at the time and Catherine was pregnant with two young children living close by. Catherine went down to tell her to stop the partying and the loud music, and Meghan again got venomous towards her. And by venomous, I mean in her face, obscenities falling from her lips and insults right to Catherine’s face. Also Meghan did buy Catherine a set of stainless steel butcher knives and smirked that the blood wipes right off.
Meghan also hates Pippa, because she tried to worm her way into her friendship circle first through the Chelsea society circle but failed as Pippa is very closed off to outsiders and very protective. Harry has had a well known weird obsession over Pippa and Catherine for a long time.
Meghan is behind the Rose rumours, this is a fact known by the family and staff. This is another reason why most have frozen her out and it is indeed due to Rose and Harry being together, and him raving about how “fit” she was to everyone afterwards while Meghan didn’t get to attend.
Meghan didn’t believe Zara had miscarriages and this is a big reason for why Anne, Peter, Mike and Zara hate her guts. Basically what was said is that Meghan didn’t see how an Olympic standard equestrian could have two miscarriages one after another and maybe it was that that caused it.
The racism thing is a nothing burger. Basically Charles and Camilla alongside William and Catherine sat down with Harry, without Meghan there before they married but apparently engaged, and basically brought up about whether he’d be able to cope with racism in the media directed towards Meghan and their child, what I’ve heard is that those shotgun engagement rumours are indeed true. There was a lot of talk about a miscarriage, and it wasn’t about Catherine or anyone else in the family. Which is why his family brought it up, as they knew he wasn’t the strongest mentally or emotionally. But what also was brought up was Harry’s racism and whether he’d be able to handle a biracial child… he had commented on Senna and Tāne Lewis among others.
Eugenie’s engagement announcement and wedding were both pushed back to accommodate Meghan and Harry, and their wedding pushed forward. The Queen apparently wanted a toned down wedding because Meghan was a divorcee and she was pregnant out of wedlock, but then suddenly they were accommodating basically anything she wanted, to which I’ve heard is because she cried wolf over a miscarriage, saying they were the family she never had and really manipulating them as while the Queen and others were strong and smart in the institutional way, they are a soft and supportive family. But she did bring up nonstop questions about Philip’s Nazi in-laws which irked him, The Queen and others massively.
Meghan wanted the Vladimir tiara, but not how it usually looks - basically she wanted to take the emeralds out of it and place those emeralds into the Lovers Knot, which she was told no because it is on lifetime loan to Catherine and its current frame is fitted to her head shape.
That Givenchy anon that was going around? That is basically all true. Meghan hated Charlotte with a vengeance but also Mia Tindall and later Lena Tindall because she like Louis dared to be born in 2018. She hated family members bringing children to events or family gatherings.
Also Meghan kept calling Louis, Lewis instead of the Louey pronunciation because she was jealous of him. Apparently Louis was also the name that she (more so Harry) had approached the Queen and Philip about using for their unborn child.
Doria never got anything. She turned up a few days before the wedding and jetted out a few days later. Jessica Mulroney kept pestering the courtiers and royal staffers to which they ended up blocking her from further communication.
Nobody knew Meghan was pregnant when she announced in 2018 with Archie, everyone literally found out when she posted on the instagram account in the middle of the night in the UK but a good time in California. Nobody got to ask about medical provisions, as the staffers wanted to help arrange the appropriate procedures for her with the Queen’s medical team. But she didn’t take them up, and Harry didn’t know basic things about the pregnancy when asked by family and staff. There is a very very strong case for a surrogate being used, as it was noted that Meghan ate unsafe food, traveled to unsafe places, did unsafe activities, and got basic information wrong about pregnancy when asked like Harry.
Nobody has seen him or Lili, they were not in the UK for the jubilee or any other time. The Queen did not visit them at Frogmore Cottage.
Breaking this down:
So as a daughter of a former courtier, I have some information of such to share.
What Meghan Wants - this wasn’t just about the wedding, as when Harry proposed he proposed with a basic ring and Meghan wanted something more bling so to speak and alongside Harry, approached The Queen and basically demanded that she have the centre emerald of the choker necklace placed into a diamond pavé ring alongside two other large diamonds from the royal collection, which I’ve heard were from the Victorian or Georgian era.
-So around this time Meghan’s PR was insane. It was clear that she intended on making “emerald” her stone/color like Catherine had “sapphire.” At the time, her PR was claiming that the emerald stone was going to come from a necklace of Diana’s and that Harry was going to take diamonds from the famous sapphire chocker for the rest of the ring. The problem that I always had with this rumor was that the emerald Meghan wanted wasn’t really suited for a ring. Unless she wanted to have it recut.
When the Queen said no, Meghan got venomous and is the reason why the Queen said she was evil. When they couldn’t get any further, they apparently approached The Earl Spencer to have him hand over diamonds from the Spencer tiara to place into the tiara, to which he denied. This was among the reasons why he did not attend the christening, the wedding he did attend because of optics.
Rumor was that Meghan asked for the tiara for her wedding, hence why her veil was scalloped to resemble the tiara.
The hatred of Catherine links back to a time when Meghan got drunk while living in Kensington Palace’s cottage with Harry, and threw a large party that went on for hours. William was apparently away at the time and Catherine was pregnant with two young children living close by. Catherine went down to tell her to stop the partying and the loud music, and Meghan again got venomous towards her. And by venomous, I mean in her face, obscenities falling from her lips and insults right to Catherine’s face. Also Meghan did buy Catherine a set of stainless steel butcher knives and smirked that the blood wipes right off.
It was also said that the Gloucester’s complained as well. Loud drunken behavior and at one point there were fireworks. But it was more than one occasion. Apparently Meghan made some rude remark regarding them about how they needed to move and it got back to TQ who relayed to Meghan she needed to keep her mouth shut. This is also why William stopped any potential move by them into KP.
Meghan also hates Pippa, because she tried to worm her way into her friendship circle first through the Chelsea society circle but failed as Pippa is very closed off to outsiders and very protective. Harry has had a well known weird obsession over Pippa and Catherine for a long time.
I remember there being a rumor that Meghan tried to make friends with Pippa to actually turn Pippa against Catherine. I also remember Meghan putting out PR that she was super close with Pippa and it was causing issues because Pippa was taking her side against Catherine.
Meghan is behind the Rose rumours, this is a fact known by the family and staff. This is another reason why most have frozen her out and it is indeed due to Rose and Harry being together, and him raving about how “fit” she was to everyone afterwards while Meghan didn’t get to attend.
Amsterdam SOHO is where she spilled the rumor because some people were willing to out her for her “extra party activities” so she started the rumor.
Meghan didn’t believe Zara had miscarriages and this is a big reason for why Anne, Peter, Mike and Zara hate her guts. Basically what was said is that Meghan didn’t see how an Olympic standard equestrian could have two miscarriages one after another and maybe it was that that caused it.
Yeah, Meghan believes that she is the only one to have ever suffered from a miscarriage…
The racism thing is a nothing burger. Basically Charles and Camilla alongside William and Catherine sat down with Harry, without Meghan there before they married but apparently engaged, and basically brought up about whether he’d be able to cope with racism in the media directed towards Meghan and their child, what I’ve heard is that those shotgun engagement rumours are indeed true. There was a lot of talk about a miscarriage, and it wasn’t about Catherine or anyone else in the family. Which is why his family brought it up, as they knew he wasn’t the strongest mentally or emotionally. But what also was brought up was Harry’s racism and whether he’d be able to handle a biracial child… he had commented on Senna and Tāne Lewis among others.
He felt the conversation was awkward because he knew how much they all disliked Meghan and she knew it as well. So she twisted the conversation to suit her narrative.
Eugenie’s engagement announcement and wedding were both pushed back to accommodate Meghan and Harry, and their wedding pushed forward.
Stole her wedding date from what I heard. Also another rumor, Meghan was FURIOUS because she wanted the tiara, after she had been denied others, that Eugenie wore and her announcing her pregnancy was retaliation.
The Queen apparently wanted a toned down wedding because Meghan was a divorcee and she was pregnant out of wedlock, but then suddenly they were accommodating basically anything she wanted, to which I’ve heard is because she cried wolf over a miscarriage, saying they were the family she never had and really manipulating them as while the Queen and others were strong and smart in the institutional way, they are a soft and supportive family. But she did bring up nonstop questions about Philip’s Nazi in-laws which irked him, The Queen and others massively.
TQ really had an issue with the veil as well. I remember when it was said PP might not make the wedding because of health issues and I always wondered if he was going to use that as an excuse to stay home because he hated Meghan. He also retired when he knew Meghan was coming on board…which is very telling.
Meghan wanted the Vladimir tiara, but not how it usually looks - basically she wanted to take the emeralds out of it and place those emeralds into the Lovers Knot, which she was told no because it is on lifetime loan to Catherine and its current frame is fitted to her head shape.
It was the Vladimir and the Fife emerald tiara that was on display at the time at KP. At least that is my theory.
That Givenchy anon that was going around? That is basically all true. Meghan hated Charlotte with a vengeance but also Mia Tindall and later Lena Tindall because she like Louis dared to be born in 2018. She hated family members bringing children to events or family gatherings. Also Meghan kept calling Louis, Lewis instead of the Louey pronunciation because she was jealous of him. Apparently Louis was also the name that she (more so Harry) had approached the Queen and Philip about using for their unborn child.
Yeah I heard she was furious that W&C went for Louis because she had called dibs on the name prior to there even being a wedding, let alone a baby. She was also furious because she felt that Charlotte should not have been named after TQ and Diana.
Doria never got anything. She turned up a few days before the wedding and jetted out a few days later. Jessica Mulroney kept pestering the courtiers and royal staffers to which they ended up blocking her from further communication.
Doria was literally trotted out to remind people Meghan is bi-racial.
Nobody knew Meghan was pregnant when she announced in 2018 with Archie, everyone literally found out when she posted on the instagram account in the middle of the night in the UK but a good time in California. Nobody got to ask about medical provisions, as the staffers wanted to help arrange the appropriate procedures for her with the Queen’s medical team. But she didn’t take them up, and Harry didn’t know basic things about the pregnancy when asked by family and staff. There is a very very strong case for a surrogate being used, as it was noted that Meghan ate unsafe food, traveled to unsafe places, did unsafe activities, and got basic information wrong about pregnancy when asked like Harry.
Nobody has seen him or Lili, they were not in the UK for the jubilee or any other time. The Queen did not visit them at Frogmore Cottage.
So I did the math and according to Meghan’s timeline, she was still heavily drinking and partying around the time she became “pregnant” with Archie. There is a lot of questionable behaviors surrounding all of this. I did find it odd the left the “kids” at home for the 2022 Jubilee/Trooping because I figured she would at least try to get a photo with them looking out a window.
Thanks for all of this BTW!
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tomorrowusa · 9 months ago
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Dictator Vladimir Putin probably hates this film which Alexei Navalny made about his greed and corruption. That's the best reason to watch it!
Much of the documentary focuses on what we call the Putin Palace – Vlad's opulent crib on the Black Sea near Gelendzhik. The Putin Palace makes Saltburn look like a cheesy AirBnB. The Putin Palace is said to be the largest single residence in Russia.
Speaking of Saltburn, this is even longer than that film. So make sure there's plenty of popcorn on hand. 🍿
Since it's probably banned in Russia, look at ways of sending this vid to friends and family there which can get around digital censorship.
EDIT: Putin is as afraid of the dead Navalny as he was of the living Navalny.
Russian digital map service reportedly blocking reviews at memorial sites visited by Navalny mourners
Alexei Navalny death latest: Putin critic’s wife says Kremlin ‘waiting for novichok poison’ to leave his body
Putin's assassination of Navalny seems to be turning into another Russian public relations disaster.
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satureja13 · 1 year ago
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It's evening and they meet for dinner. (The vendor at the food stand is Jeb's friend Aleki from Strangerville!)
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I love to see them so happy <3
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Jack had not been sleeping well since he returned from his Star Wars coma. Sai cared for him the first night and then they took turns. So they are quite happy to hear that they are going to have two rooms. One for Jack and his 'caretaker' and one for the others.
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Kiyoshi: "It's my turn but the group accomodation might be uncomfortable. Does anyone want to swap?" Saiwa: "He's all yours!" Ji Ho hesitated and was about to offer to spend the night with Jack, but... Jeb: "Come on Ji Ho!" (I really wonder how much they know about Jack and Kiyoshi ^^`)
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And then they were finally alone. Jack: "I can't believe you still want me." Kiyoshi: "I will always want you."
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This was their fifth woohoo but the first time they really 'made love'. Tenderly and loving.
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And this was the first night Jack slept safe and sound since he woke from his coma.
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Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham - Lata Mangeshkar OST from the Bollywood Movie Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham. (I love Sharukh Khan a lot ;)
From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest
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luminnara · 8 months ago
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Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.
MASTERLIST
Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)
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Harkonnen customs were strange.
Harkonnens were strange.
Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.
“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.
But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.
As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.
“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.
His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.
“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”
Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.
Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.
You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.
Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.
“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant…?
“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”
You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”
“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”
No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.
“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.
The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”
You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.
When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.
“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”
-0-
To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.
The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.
“We will be wed soon,” he said.
You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”
He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”
You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.
Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”
“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.
“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”
“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”
The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.
“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.
“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.
You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”
“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”
The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”
“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“
“What did he wear?”
“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“
“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.
You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"
"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.
You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"
You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.
"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.
He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.
The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.
"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.
"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.
"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.
As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--
Yes.
There he was.
You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.
"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.
As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.
You had never seen such agony.
When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.
"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.
You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.
He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."
You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.
"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"
"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.
"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"
"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"
Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"
"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"
"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.
Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"
"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."
"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.
"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.
"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."
He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.
"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."
"...You killed him for me," you whispered.
"I did."
"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"
"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.
You just nodded.
"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.
"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.
"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."
He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.
"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.
"Call me Feyd."
"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."
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