"Paul?"

There was the taste of cinnamon, the crossing of two suns in a sky bright as golden fire, and HEAT, heat inescapable, heat so blinding and wretched and unfathomably harsh you wanted to throw yourself on your knees and burrow like the mouse that ran past your toes.

"I'm behind you."

The sand beneath your feet plump glittering with spice scattered as you spun towards the voice, and at the sight of him your heart tore in two, agony unfiltered, carried on legs that didn't seem to feel real.

His mop of dark hair had grown, dusting heavy grey eyes, a wound on his nose dried with maroon, and gone was his Atreides pale as a set of arms wrapped around you, his face pushing into your hair after your leap into the hug.

Damned how long it lasted, his steady heart beating against your own chest, moulding into the shape of him.

"I need to show you something." He whispered urgently, "hold my hand and don't let go."

"No, please just let's stay here." You pulled back, cheeks wet, clutching at the contraption he was wearing, nose bumping at the tube in his nose. "Keep us here, don't leave me again."

"I only wish we could." And he sadly looked down, hair wind—shorn, urging with his soft soto, "but you need to see," Paul wiped a sticky streak with a thumb, the tear dripping from it before it hissing on the dune, "you can't do that on Arrakis."

"Arakkis?" You gripped his wrist, pushing into it, burrowing in closer at the hooded, chanting shadows hunting at your heels. "Paul, why are you here on Arakkis?"

"See." He said, eyes bleeding, your hands tangling as he turned towards the sun. "See."

🩸

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Rabbans smooth egg of a head was intensely furrowed as the mirage passed. Fuck HIM, why was he here? Just...frowning as usual, dumb shit, on the balcony like a bad smell. "Freak."

"Shut up, Rabban go back to bed nobody invited you."
"Ugh."

Your legs trembled, knees too weak to hold your weight, throat dry as parchment.

Ezza hadn't noticed, hooked on how Rautha cleaved Leo's head in perfect two, and crouching to grip blonde curls he pried out his still—wagging tongue, holding it up to you.

Hark romance.

His wounds were glossy, seeping shimmering cheery that ran underneath his armour, two gashes across his forearms, one inches open at the top of his wrist, and he panted like some beast, nodding to himself subtly.

"Go, my Lady." Your maid urged, moving herself from the stairs. "You must go to him."

How? You could barely walk! Biting your cheek, summoning everything you had while his sophisticate associates cheered him on, you just about managed, the crowd parting to make a path as you reached the bottom of the flaring steps.

All except one; who didn't budge, RIGHT IN THE WAY, who in fact stiffened her stance in evident defiance, the only noise Feyds hard breaths.

Difficult to tell she was Harkonnen, with the hair that is, hair that betrayed its true colour under the artificial light silver beyond silver held in thick, gold clasped braids, tall, potently beautiful, body moulded tight by exercise with almond eyes shockingly blue.

Yeah, that was Ophelia, NATURALLY, expression one of haughty loathing in her structured, pretty red dress.

She didn't move, you walked around her, there was no leverage while she sneered at her win.

You stepped over Leo's corpse.

Rauthas eyes were blown just black remained, swallowed voids of it, scary above those jutting cheeks that sucked in and out, drinking back the horse—race levels of adrenaline saliva, pink tongue pinched between his fingers twitching when he sheathed his knife.

"For you, Rautha Atreides." There was an insult in the switch of your name you didn't understand, lack of wife and Na—Baroness only making Ophelia's aura dance.

And he plopped the cooling muscle your open palm. I MEAN, you'd have preferred some flowers but okay, chest shallowing as he rolled his shoulders. Fuck, he didn't...didn't want you to eat it did he? Like, lick it or something? "Thank you, Na—Baron," you said. "You fight like a demon, there's no one who could ever hope to—."

He actually walked away mid sentence, stunning you, your nice words melting away into a stutter as you turned to watch him wave an arm and SHOUT excitedly for the party to continue.

Which it did, as if nothing had ever happened, there wasn't a man butchered on the wet floor, there was not a tongue in your hand, the gross Harkonnen high society just MEH as they trailed away to drink and dance.

Feyd—Rautha Harkonnen, not phased by his cuts and bruises with his muscles back to you, cupped a hand around the sculpted hip of the tall, unfairly blessed woman with hair silver beyond silver, sweeping her against his side, "you're hurt, my only love," she said, voice matching her presence, her palm stroking his face. "Let me tend to you, I insist."

the image and whatever reply was blocked by the excitedly chattering crowd dutifully trailing behind—

But not blocked enough to witness how she turned to grin at your cold, numb face.

🩸

Yeah, after that disgrace to the galaxy you'd fled to—whatever this place was, a library of sorts, a place for ledgers and files and official documentation, you'd broken the lock, shut the door behind you, and slipped under a desk, Ezza taken from you for the night as another act of punishment.

There you had stayed, until the thumping and bashing and heady celebrations had died into a softer drunken revelry and their transport had dashed by the tinted windows.

Hours, maybe? Time had such a weird movement here, feasting over the details of that vision. And how SHE'D touched him, with confidence, so self—assured, their bond so was tight knitted she knew she could, like Ophelia, bitch Ophelia was his wife instead.

So he could reach out his hand to other women, but any that even brushed yours needed to be cut off. The hypocrisy. 'Let me tend to you.'...MY ONLY LOVE.

You winced, sneaking through the doors and hallways, remembering the way to your room. She loved him? Was it mutual?

Much further away than you thought, the thought of soaking in the bath was nice, maybe he was in bed already, exhausted from the day, calmed down enough for you to explain how you never wanted this to happen.

With nothing but slivers of moonlight pointing the way, thirsty, tired, realising you'd taken the tongue, too, you traipsed to your quarters, hoping this would all be better in the morning, could a touch soothe him? Would he roll away and ignore you? Would he even come to sleep at all?

The FUCK? The lock wasn't engaged, light spilling underneath the thigh thick wood before you cautiously stalked inside.

SHIT HE WAS STARK NAKED, stood in front of the full—length gold leaf mirror, ass tight as he sprayed an astringent from a little white bottle onto the stitched wound on his arm,
armour and crusty, blood spattered underclothes left strewn around the floor.

There was a suffocating atmosphere, the bed you KNOW the head housekeeper had made fucking destroyed, sheets ripped, feathers spilling from pillows, the flash of a red dress hanging under the softest comforter.

You could smell her, too, cherry blossoms. As if you could sleep there ever again.

"See something you like?" He purred, glancing over his shoulder, absolutely no shame or awkwardness in his posture. "Don't just stare, make yourself useful and get down on your knees."

Your jaw popped open, tearing your eyes away before marching to the bed, ripping the wine—stained fabric out to hold it up. "You're that mad at me you'd fuck another woman in our bed?"

"Such a filthy mouth, who taught you that word?" Rautha smirked, not at all nettled by your acid tone, turning to face you. It was the first time you'd seen him totally bare, thighs quivering, and you held the goddamn dress in front of the dick you wouldn't look at. It'd only encourage him.

He took a step forward, you took one back, until your legs hit the ornate wooden frame. "Stay back, Feyd."

Little Atreides storming in here, spitting his name, so delicately toeing the line of his temper, believing you were so much bigger than you actually were, trying with all your might not to look at what you wanted to.

There was always a fucking starving curiosity with you, face all puckered and pissy, HATING HIM for indulging in his official concubine after a fair fight.

Beautiful thing, reaching up on your toes to match his height. "I said—."

"Heard you the first time, Atreides." And he squared you up against the post, closing in, both hands falling on either side of your head as a bead of sweat rolled down your temple. "You'd know if I was mad at you." He whispered, crouching down to brush noses as you accidentally gulped down his breath. "And I fuck her," he smiled, enjoying how your pupils blew like gas—lines, how your entire musculature spawned, a tic fluttering those long Atreides lashes, "because—."

The meaty crack bounced viciously off the walls, loud enough to peel the wallpaper, and he stepped back, body jiggling, holding a palm to a sting on his face as he hissed at it.

You SLAPPED him, right across the cheek. And for a moment as he looked at you in unsubtle shock you kinda felt bad, felt the need to rub it and hug him and apologise, before remembering he'd FUCKED another woman ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED, BEFORE even CONSUMMATING YOUR marriage.

"I told you to back up," you said with a small, shaky breath.

There was that prowling coil, hand falling away syrup slow, brows darkening to shadow his deep set eyes that somehow sunk further into his shaped skull—shit.

And Feyd—Rautha Harkonnen sprang, gripping out for your hair, your immediate duck thwarting it as you smacked the blade of your flinging hand right into his vulnerable dick, rolling between his thighs, just missing his ass that crouched to the floor while he let out a yowl. "Bitch!"

"Bastard!" On bare feet you lurched for the door, "ahhh, get OFF!" A hand coiling around your ankle devastating your balance as you fell chest first onto the hard floor. It was a rough landing, tits taking a blow, dress ripping as he dragged your scrambling form on his knees behind you.

"You should be thanking me!" He shouted, tanking the free kick to his gut, FUCK WRESTLING WITH THIS NAKED DEMON, he twisted you on your back, biting the fingers you shoved into his face.

"Ow!" And you pounded at his chest, knees drumming into his ribs, "thanking you?! Go back to hell, you ugly, bald man—boy!"

"I'll take you with me," GOD, what a sight, pale, glistening, lithe body throbbing with twitching muscles mounting you, "till death do us part, remember?" Pinning your hands beside your head as he threw one leg over to keep yours down. "Oh. Stop you embarrass yourself, you overgrown little hair bag what will you do GNAW my ankle."

"Mmmpf," FUCK, the heat was ridiculous, dick heavy and stiffening against your stomach, so that was what it felt like? So much harder than you could ever guess, like it shouldn't be possible as he panted beast—like. "You gelatinous lard, you measly goblin, free me. Or I'll—."

"SHUT UP." He didn't let you finish, flipping you over, one hand in your hair to pin your head to the side, cheek against the cool, moo kissed surface, and he sat on your back like you were a horse, levelling a slap to your backside.

"Ouch! Don't do that!" Ew his hands had been on her, but if the gravity of it didn't sink it before it did now as he pulled your already short attire right up to your shoulders with ONE easy wrench, exposing the gold ropes of lingerie.

"HEY!" You tried to get up, shoved right back down, his weight increasing as he shuffled on his knees.

"I'll take you now, little Atreides," he growled, voice THICK with lust, double creamed and impossibly deep as his chest stretched over your back, hard nipples against your shoulder blades as he laved a tongue down your sweaty neck. "Right here on the floor like the animal you are."

Yes. No. God, yes. Please, no. And the unbelievably heavy, sweltering hot and wrist—thick meat between his thighs bullied and slithered wetly between your thighs for the twitching heat to bump against your underwear. "Feyd," you gasped, testing his strength, curving up against his as he skated black teeth across your throat. "Feyd!"

"Yes, Little Atreides?" He wasn't paying attention, moving his head to the other side, hunting for your lips as he pinned your head tighter, catching one as he laughed at your whine before stretching it out with his teeth and tickling a tongue against the tip of your own, "I'll be gentle this one time, tender with you, give into me and I'll give you our child, would you like that?"

This was a losing game, succumbing quickly to this fucking malevolent bully rutting up with a almost painful sound and a thrown back head, "just like that, so deep inside you," your fingers squeaking on the floor, still trying to claw out tangled with his as he nuzzled you down flat, knees prying open your thighs no matter how you strained against it. "I'll hold your hands while you take my seed, imagine the warmth of it, Atreides, don't fight me. I want you."

"Ah, tsk, no." It took him a split second to grab his cock and line it up, perfectly aligned against the hole that clenched thin air, your arm secured across your back after he caught it, and something velvet soft and round and tight rested on the crease of your thigh. "Take this like you were bred to, remember you were made for me."

Not now, NOT AFTER HER, with that sluts dress barely feet away, the stench of her pervading the air, mingling with his sweat and hormones and sticky adrenaline, you weren't to be an after fuck, late to your own party, no matter how good it felt, no matter how the thick veins on his thick forearms pounded and he soothingly stroked up your arched spine. "Ready?"

"NO!" You shouted, finding him in the mirror, wriggling like some worm on a line, "stop, I don't want this now. I mean it, don't, or I'll scream."

"What?" His reflection was stunned, lips popped open, void—dark eyes narrowing violently. "I—but," he frowned, hard, shaking his head, "but I know you do." And his intrusive fingers swept up the damp material of your sticky underwear, holding the tips up to the light. They were wet. "Why do you say this?"

Couldn't fucking understand you, what did you actually want?! Fighting back as if he was a creep in an alleyway, Rautha let you toss onto your back as he sat still nude beside you, one hand wrapped around your throat for good measure.

That dick was too close to your mouth, you turned your head GODDAMN, cheeks on fire.

"No woman has ever refused me," he was INSULTED, burning up at the rejection, nose twitching, thumb on your pulse. "There's a billion women that would kill to be under me."

"Consider this a first," you pulled at his wrist, about to laugh at his STAGGERED ego. "Let me go."

Feyd scoffed, this must have been a game. A ruse. Some Atreides trick to twist his head, a witches plot, "it won't hurt for long," that must have been the reason, it was too big for a beginner, maybe you was afraid he'd tear you, "I said I'd be kind," his voice was utterly boyish as he shrugged, "and I will, I'll have you slow." He glanced down at his dick between his thighs, somewhat shy, "there's things we can do before, too."

"You WONT HAVE ME AT ALL," breathing heavy, awful ache between your legs stilll throbbing, he still wasn't getting it.

"Just the tip until you relax."
"ARE YOU DEAF?!"

"Oh." He pouted, "I see," sulking, such a childish reaction, as if you'd slapped his hand, and he withered, growing into an entitled wasp, utterly mean, hand on your throat tangling with your hair to march you to the bed and summersault you right on it. "I could still do it."

Oh yeah HERE WE GO. And you could use the voice to make him punch his own balls. "Try it." Seriously, "you don't want to go there."

He smacked away the pillow you threw at his head, realising you were hunting for the right pitch. "You're my property, my wife, there's no laws against bedding your own wife on Giedi."

"I'm Na—Baroness," you growled back, taking up some defensive position, "cross that line and we can never go back, Feyd. Or are all Harkonnens absolute beasts?"

Prude, prideful, miserable, stuck—up Atreides, "you refuse me?" He hissed, "you reject this?" And Feyd Rautha Harkonnen looked lost, VULNERABLE, looking to the floor with a sad huff of his nose. "You don't want me?"

Obviously it was never a question as he flung out his arm in a command for silence, throwing on only a pair of pants before storming out of the door.