[ Can two paths belonging to two people intersect and intertwine? Could destiny or fate or any similar idea be bringing Bastila and Paul together? Perhaps it is a silly romantic idea that Bastila feels deep inside herself, but perhaps it really is the outcome that she wants. Will it happen? Maybe, and maybe not.
She wonders if Paul sees them on that path in his visions, or if all he sees is the path leading both of them further apart. Her hands clench into fists for a moment as a sudden urge to curse that path arises; she wants to reject that path while reaching out to grab hold of the path that brings them closer together. It's the path she wants.
A contented sigh escapes her as Paul begins to move his fingers through her hair. This feels right and comforting and it feels like something they have done for years. Perhaps when he tires of touching her hair, she will return the favor and begin tending to his own hair. She never dared be so forthright in front of Jessica or Leto, but in the moments that were just her and Paul, she found the urge rising to just touch him, if he allowed her to and if she was bold enough to go through with the action.
Sometimes she was and sometimes she was not, and the times that she was not, she wished that she could just act without worrying about what people thought about her. What does Paul think about me? She would ask herself and be unable to come up with an answer. ]
Well, whether they can be stopped or not, I will be right here if you need someone to hold your hand.
[ Even if he does not reach back, I will not leave him to deal with this alone. ]
What if your father had not gone to Arrakis? What if he had refused the charge and stayed where he was? I- As much as I agree with you, and as much as I wish that your father were still with us... [ What if one of us had died instead of him? Not Paul, and not Lady Jessica. Absolutely not the Lord Duke.
Bastila knows that she is hardly a replacement for Leto, and her death in his stead would mean next to nothing in the grand scheme. But a part of her wishes she could have taken his place so that he could be here with Paul instead.
She senses and sees Paul slip back into visions or memories or both, and she simply waits, lying beside him waiting for him to return from whatever it is that he is seeing. Perhaps this is simply how it will be between them: Paul will have visions and dreams and Bastila will sit with him and hold his hand and wait for the visions to recede once more.
At least this time, whatever memories Paul is seeing seem to be less harrowing than the visions he had had before. That is a small relief and Bastila finds herself releasing a breath she had not known she was holding in.
After a moment, Paul seems to leave the memories behind, returning to the present and this moment with her. She moves to squeeze his hand but he finds she beats her to it: he pulls her in closer and wraps an arm around her, upon which she settles into his hold as if she belongs there. Fits there. This is where they belong: together, if not exactly in this specific place. ]
I should have been. I do not know why I was allowed to live, when so many others did not. But Paul, I will not have you thinking that any of this was your fault. Even if I had not survived, it would not have been your doing, nor would I allow you to blame yourself.
I would follow you to the ends of the earth if I had to, and I would do it again without a second's thought. How could I not be here with you, with your family? If Arrakis was to be our end, I would rather be here with you than living safely on Caladan or elsewhere.
[ Still, she greatly feels the losses that have happened; Paul's father, his teachers, so many people who meant something to both of them. They should all still be here. They should all still be alive. ]
I would have mourned for all of you, and I did, in my own way, but- the Harkonnens were watching. I did mourn, but I could not let you go, not even once. Not even for a second. They said that you were dead, that your parents were dead. Parents, servants, teachers... anyone who had ever even come close to the Atreides was dead. And I would be too, if I did not do exactly as I was told.
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She wonders if Paul sees them on that path in his visions, or if all he sees is the path leading both of them further apart. Her hands clench into fists for a moment as a sudden urge to curse that path arises; she wants to reject that path while reaching out to grab hold of the path that brings them closer together. It's the path she wants.
A contented sigh escapes her as Paul begins to move his fingers through her hair. This feels right and comforting and it feels like something they have done for years. Perhaps when he tires of touching her hair, she will return the favor and begin tending to his own hair. She never dared be so forthright in front of Jessica or Leto, but in the moments that were just her and Paul, she found the urge rising to just touch him, if he allowed her to and if she was bold enough to go through with the action.
Sometimes she was and sometimes she was not, and the times that she was not, she wished that she could just act without worrying about what people thought about her. What does Paul think about me? She would ask herself and be unable to come up with an answer. ]
Well, whether they can be stopped or not, I will be right here if you need someone to hold your hand.
[ Even if he does not reach back, I will not leave him to deal with this alone. ]
What if your father had not gone to Arrakis? What if he had refused the charge and stayed where he was? I- As much as I agree with you, and as much as I wish that your father were still with us... [ What if one of us had died instead of him? Not Paul, and not Lady Jessica. Absolutely not the Lord Duke.
Bastila knows that she is hardly a replacement for Leto, and her death in his stead would mean next to nothing in the grand scheme. But a part of her wishes she could have taken his place so that he could be here with Paul instead.
She senses and sees Paul slip back into visions or memories or both, and she simply waits, lying beside him waiting for him to return from whatever it is that he is seeing. Perhaps this is simply how it will be between them: Paul will have visions and dreams and Bastila will sit with him and hold his hand and wait for the visions to recede once more.
At least this time, whatever memories Paul is seeing seem to be less harrowing than the visions he had had before. That is a small relief and Bastila finds herself releasing a breath she had not known she was holding in.
After a moment, Paul seems to leave the memories behind, returning to the present and this moment with her. She moves to squeeze his hand but he finds she beats her to it: he pulls her in closer and wraps an arm around her, upon which she settles into his hold as if she belongs there. Fits there. This is where they belong: together, if not exactly in this specific place. ]
I should have been. I do not know why I was allowed to live, when so many others did not. But Paul, I will not have you thinking that any of this was your fault. Even if I had not survived, it would not have been your doing, nor would I allow you to blame yourself.
I would follow you to the ends of the earth if I had to, and I would do it again without a second's thought. How could I not be here with you, with your family? If Arrakis was to be our end, I would rather be here with you than living safely on Caladan or elsewhere.
[ Still, she greatly feels the losses that have happened; Paul's father, his teachers, so many people who meant something to both of them. They should all still be here. They should all still be alive. ]
I would have mourned for all of you, and I did, in my own way, but- the Harkonnens were watching. I did mourn, but I could not let you go, not even once. Not even for a second. They said that you were dead, that your parents were dead. Parents, servants, teachers... anyone who had ever even come close to the Atreides was dead. And I would be too, if I did not do exactly as I was told.
But they could not stop me from thinking.