[ The feeling of dreadful purpose communicates that fate has been decided for him. That he is bound for a path constructed for him to complete. A path he does not fully understand nor does he truly want to see. He wants to walk the path of his own decisions. The purpose that he has felt since he met the Supreme Reverend Mother that he wishes to reject with all his being. Still, he knows what he is and what he could become if the steps are taken.
Paul rolls to his back. He pulls her to rest against him once more. The wheeze remains in his breathing even as changed eyes turn upwards to the ceiling of the tent. A hand returns to her hair.
"All I need to be is yours."
Had my mother said something similar to my father before she decided to give him a son?
He wonders if the Sisterhood would have seen her desire to stay with him and exploited it. If he had impressed the Supreme Reverend Mother would things have been different?
No.
My father would still be dead. ]
Maud'dib and Paul Atreides are the same person. [ Eyes close again. ] To cultivate desert power and survive I have had to become a Freman... and my mother as well. You may need to as well.
[ A pause. ] Fulfill the roles you want to have because you want them, Basi. Not simply because someone else told you to.
[ Don't let her voice join those that chant my name like a prayer.
The two eventually fall asleep. Morning comes. Paul properly introduces Bastila to the Fremen. He explains the situation of her alignment to his house and how she had come to Arrakis. The Fremen demand a show of good faith before they let one of Harkonnen stench further. Stilgar agrees. They trust Maud'dib, but the trust does not extend simply because he speaks well of her. ]
"The Elders will decide her fate. Just as they did Maud'dib and the Reverend Mother." [ Stilgar clicks his tongue. A sigh before turning to the Fremen. ] "Maud'dib has vouched for her! She will be under his care until the elders at Sietch Tabr decide. I vouche for Maud'dib as I always have."
[ Paul pulls the glove down on a hand. Stilgar applies the crysknife to his wrist and then his own. It stings, but he makes certain to not let it known. A nod is given to Bastila to show that for now it is done. The armor is pulled into the rest of the belongings and then a worm is called. It seems they will not be staying the day.
The ride to the sietch is not as long as one suspects. Paul keeps Bastila close, a hand over hers, aware of the reaction the Fremen will have. They shout at her as they had him and his mother. Some bow to him and welcome him back. The whole moment feels surreal and a brief flash of deja vu.
He pushes through the crowd of people and walks to his yali. The home he had inherited after winning in the amtal against Jamis. He pulls open the entrance and motions for her to step in first. Then, him after. The lights emit a low glow. He stills. Eyes scan the living area before his shoulders relax. ]
Mother must be speaking with the Elders. [ A hand lifts. He pulls the nose plug out, then works to begin removing the gloves. The cut is long and obvious on the top of his wrist. Eyes raise and then he smiles at her. ] Through the main door is my room. Help yourself to what clothes you can find for now. It's be better for them to see you in Freman clothing.
no subject
[ The feeling of dreadful purpose communicates that fate has been decided for him. That he is bound for a path constructed for him to complete. A path he does not fully understand nor does he truly want to see. He wants to walk the path of his own decisions. The purpose that he has felt since he met the Supreme Reverend Mother that he wishes to reject with all his being. Still, he knows what he is and what he could become if the steps are taken.
Paul rolls to his back. He pulls her to rest against him once more. The wheeze remains in his breathing even as changed eyes turn upwards to the ceiling of the tent. A hand returns to her hair.
"All I need to be is yours."
Had my mother said something similar to my father before she decided to give him a son?
He wonders if the Sisterhood would have seen her desire to stay with him and exploited it. If he had impressed the Supreme Reverend Mother would things have been different?
No.
My father would still be dead. ]
Maud'dib and Paul Atreides are the same person. [ Eyes close again. ] To cultivate desert power and survive I have had to become a Freman... and my mother as well. You may need to as well.
[ A pause. ] Fulfill the roles you want to have because you want them, Basi. Not simply because someone else told you to.
[ Don't let her voice join those that chant my name like a prayer.
The two eventually fall asleep. Morning comes. Paul properly introduces Bastila to the Fremen. He explains the situation of her alignment to his house and how she had come to Arrakis. The Fremen demand a show of good faith before they let one of Harkonnen stench further. Stilgar agrees. They trust Maud'dib, but the trust does not extend simply because he speaks well of her. ]
"The Elders will decide her fate. Just as they did Maud'dib and the Reverend Mother." [ Stilgar clicks his tongue. A sigh before turning to the Fremen. ] "Maud'dib has vouched for her! She will be under his care until the elders at Sietch Tabr decide. I vouche for Maud'dib as I always have."
[ Paul pulls the glove down on a hand. Stilgar applies the crysknife to his wrist and then his own. It stings, but he makes certain to not let it known. A nod is given to Bastila to show that for now it is done. The armor is pulled into the rest of the belongings and then a worm is called. It seems they will not be staying the day.
The ride to the sietch is not as long as one suspects. Paul keeps Bastila close, a hand over hers, aware of the reaction the Fremen will have. They shout at her as they had him and his mother. Some bow to him and welcome him back. The whole moment feels surreal and a brief flash of deja vu.
He pushes through the crowd of people and walks to his yali. The home he had inherited after winning in the amtal against Jamis. He pulls open the entrance and motions for her to step in first. Then, him after. The lights emit a low glow. He stills. Eyes scan the living area before his shoulders relax. ]
Mother must be speaking with the Elders. [ A hand lifts. He pulls the nose plug out, then works to begin removing the gloves. The cut is long and obvious on the top of his wrist. Eyes raise and then he smiles at her. ] Through the main door is my room. Help yourself to what clothes you can find for now. It's be better for them to see you in Freman clothing.
I'll change after you.