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synthneon2025-02-23 09:21 pm
spicetrance) wrote in synthneon2025-02-23 09:21 pm
Entry tags:
skies of rust || ❝ d'you breathe the name of your saviour in your hour of need. ❞
'Cause without your love my life
Ain't nothing but this carnival of rust
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.
no subject
Perhaps all I need to do is get him to see it.
She does not resist when she feels him roll onto his back, pulling her down with him. She would gladly give over control to him, at least in these moments when it is only them in the privacy of a tent or other shelter. She would gladly allow him to lead her as he sees fit, because that is how much she trusts him. ]
Then I love Muad'Dib as much as I love Paul. [ There is a tone of resolve in her words, as well as a tone indicating her feelings for him. ] Whether you are one of the Fremen or whether you are simply yourself, I love you regardless.
The only role that I want is to be someone who stands with you and walks with you and holds your hand if you need someone to do that too.
[ When sleep finally takes them both, Bastila does her best to move even closer to Paul, and even closer into his hold. Perhaps their shared heat is uncomfortable for them both, but all she wants is to be as close to him as she can.
And when morning comes and they both awaken, events seem to unfold rather quickly, and Bastila finds herself in a position of others deciding her fate. If she is worried about it, she does her best to not appear bothered. Of course, she does not wish to appear arrogant nor overconfident, but neither does she want to be perceived as scared.
Even when the Fremen shout at her upon their arrival, she does her best to rein in her own emotions, lest she make an unattractive display of herself. Inwardly, she feels ripples of anger, but shouting back would hardly win her any favors, and so she forces herself to remain silent. Paul might feel her fingers curl and her muscles tensing in her arm, but that is the only reaction she allows.
Eventually, when Paul leads them both to his inherited home and he gives her instructions to take what she needs of his clothes, she raises her eyebrows. It is not that she does not wish to borrow his clothes, but the suggestion still surprises her on some level. Before she moves to do as he has told her, she asks: ]
What happens if these Elders decide I should not be here? [ She doubts that even dressing as one of them will do much for her cause then. ]
no subject
He moves in front of her easily, the thin scarf shuffling at his feet. Paul leans down in front of her. Eyebrows raise slightly to make his point as he says it: ] Then, they should be prepared for Maud'dib to scourn them and refuse to aid them.
[ A hand raises to brush the strands of hair away from her face. Fingertips glide over her skin. ] He doesn't take lightly to the idea of his family being rebuked.
[ The statement and conversation would be more nuanced than the statement. Stilgar would not take kindly to the idea of Paul putting his foot down on this matter. However, Bastila is family, and always has been. They took him and his mother (and sister) in. If they won't respect the fact that another member of his family had done all she needed to in order to survive? Then, things may need to be evaluated.
His hand then cups the side of her face and he takes a step closer to her. A gentle smile is given. He plans to protect her as he protects his mother. As a family. He is Fremen... mostly. One challenge still remains, but, he is certain that will be placed second to the fact there is now someone who worked with the Harkonnens within their sietch. ]
I'm going to protect you, Basi. You don't need my help to fight--my mother made sure of that. But, it's my job as the leader of our house to protect those within it politically as best as I can.
no subject
But then Paul makes that statement and surprise shifts into something of worry. ]
Doing that would hardly aid you, Paul. You need the Fremen for your cause, because you need people with you to reach your aims. The last thing I intend is to be the reason your cause fails.
[ Of course she knows that Paul requires allies, and the Fremen are the ones he has chosen. Or was it the Fremen who chose him? Perhaps the path that Paul is on led him to the Fremen, so it was inevitable that they would work together.
If that is the case, that is even more reason for Bastila to not stand in the way. ]
I appreciate that, Paul, but if protecting me means jeopardizing your relations with the Fremen, then that is the last thing you should do. I understand your position as this house's leader, but there are things more important, aren't there?
[ Some things do trump familial connections, such as Paul's overarching goals. A part of Bastila would just as soon rely on Paul's protection, but the part of her that can recognize the importance of plans and allies recoils from that idea of simply letting Paul fulfill the role of protector, as to her, Paul's long term goals are of greater importance. ]
no subject
Politics.
The hand cupping the side of her face turns. Thumb brushes over her cheekbone.
There is still so much to tell you. ]
I'm not going to lose anymore of my family--or my court. We've lost enough. [ He will need to find a way to prove to the Fremen that she is on their side. Irreplaceable. That he sees her as valuable to their combined cause as he does his mother. Although, in respects, his mother had been forced and proved her place without him. ] They can at least understand that much. They've lost family to the Harkonnens too.
[ He pauses, pressing his lips together. Another step forward. His frame doesn't quite cover her nor does he tower above her. They are near the same height. His position, however, does make certain that any at the door could not see her. ]
Not that you'd really need my protection. [ A bit of a smile crosses his face for the briefest of moments. ] You're more skilled in fighting in Prana-bindu than I am.
[ He tilts his head down, merely a breath away from placing his forehead to hers. Nothing closer. She could easily twist him around and place him at a disadvantage if she feels forced or in a corner. She, out of everyone he has ever met, seems to be the one with the most choice afforded to her.
Why?
The shuffling of feet and moved sand behind them. Paul glances to the side with his eyebrows slightly raised. He knows the steps and to who they belong. A breath escapes him. She still finds a way to interrupt even unknowingly. ]
"Paul!" [ the familiar voice suddenly rings through the small stone cut quarters. ] "Stilgar says you are to ride your first worm within the upcoming days. Had you planned on telling me this?"
[ A familiar annoyed look crosses his face for Bastila to see. Eyes briefly move towards the ceiling. ] I had once Stil decided on when it would happen. Or, maybe I wouldn't have, if you decided to use the knowledge to push your agenda. [ Paul straightens and turns his head to their guest. His hand falls away from Bastila's face. ] We can discuss it later. We have a guest, mother.
[ The Lady Jessica freezes in an instant at the tone her son uses. She stands straighter. Hands fold together in practiced and trained posture. Blue tinged eyes fall to who the figure behind the young man she had raised. Except, all composure fails her the moment that Paul steps away to reveal the once ward of House Atreides. The tattoos and wrapping that dress her head and face may have changed how the lady looks, but she is still very much the once concubine of Duke Leto Atreides. ]
no subject
It is not a dance Bastila wishes to be a part of, but fate or destiny or both has decided she is part of it, along with Paul and Jessica. ]
We are not going to lose you, either. [ They can hardly afford to lose any of them, and as far as she is concerned, they all survive together or not at all. And if Paul goes, well, she imagines Jessica may not be long in following him, although in some ways, Jessica is the strongest of them all. ] We'll survive together, or make the Harkonnens regret thinking they could best House Atreides.
[ Because, really, that is who their enemy is at the moment. The Fremen are not an enemy, just a group of people who does not seem to trust strangers, and Bastila can hardly fault them for that.
Her gaze zeroes in on his when he steps forward. She knows what she wants to do, now before they are interrupted by anyone. Who knows when they will have a moment alone together? Even if another moment presents itself, there is something she wants to do right now, and she won't be stopped from doing it. ]
Maybe not, and you can hold your own as well, but that does not mean we can't protect each other. Watch each other's backs. [ She had no intention of doing anything different, anyway. ] And I would not downplay your own abilities in combat. Gurney and Duncan taught you well. Combine that with Prana-bindu and no one is going to take you by surprise.
[ He is even closer now, and she could kiss him if she wanted to. She wants to, and driven by that want, she leans forward slightly, hands moving to curl around him, when... at the last second, a voice cuts through the relative silence.
Jessica.
Bastila straightens up, but she does not pull back too far from Paul, turning slightly as Jessica approaches them both. This is one of those moments where she wishes she could simply slide out of view down a hallway and leave Paul and Jessica to talk or argue or whatever it is they are about to do.
But here, there is no room to do that, and so she stays where she is but tries to appear as though she is not listening or eavesdropping. That is, until Paul brings attention to the fact that Bastila is there.
At first, she finds herself startled not only by the blue eyes but the tattoos that were not there the last time that Bastila saw Paul's mother. Clearly she has changed considerably since then, but even with the changes, she is unmistakably the Lady Jessica.
Bastila is quick to dip into a brief curtsy of respect, but before she does so, she scoots forward just slightly and brushes a light kiss against Paul's cheek. It is not the deep gesture she meant to give, but with Jessica's arrival, adjustments had to be made. With that done, then she moves to show proper respect to Paul's mother, concealing a slight smile as she does so. ]
no subject
He would have met her in that kiss if not for his mother. The woman who seems to have a singular talent in making certain he and Bastila never crossed certain lines. Lines he fully intends to cross now that the politics and machinations have put him at the forefront of the board. One that seems ready to cross as her lips brush against his cheek. His attention focuses entirely on her the moment she does. All his attention--including where his mind might seem ready to wander the moment spice enters his body.
His mother had always said Bastila had the capability of capturing him instantly.
Lady Jessica drops her hands at her side at the formal show of respect. Within a moment, she is in front of Bastila. All pretenses of manners and customs by court and Bene Gesserits are dropped. She gently cups Bastila's face in her hands before pulling her into a firm embrace. Firm, but loose, as the signs of her pregnancy are apparent for all to see. ]
"You're alive," [ Jessica breathes a sound of relief and also pride. A hand rests on the back of her would be daughter's head. ] "I had always told the Reverend Mother that you were capable of using your witts to survive. Even if you are covered head to toe in Harkonnen dress..."
[ Paul feels a scowl tug at his face at the mention of the Supreme Reverend Mother.
Jessica pulls back to take Bastila's hands in her own. Then, she glances down at her signs of pregnancy. Blue-in-blue eyes land on Bastila's in the familiar mentorship and yet motherly way. ]
"She's also glad that you've survived. That something of our family remains a family."
[ Paul shakes his head and begins to pull his scarf and gloves off. He should see to getting things arranged for Bastila while the women talk. ]
no subject
The moment that Jessica steps in front of her, all of Bastila's formalities drop to the side as well. There is no need for them, not among family. If they were being observed by others not in the family, of course she would hold onto the customs and expectations, but there is no need to now.
Once Jessica is closer, Bastila looks at her closely too, as if seeing her for the first time. She might not appear different in a physical sense, at least not yet, but there still is something about her that has changed. ]
I had to survive, because- because I just felt like there was more I still could do.
[ She looks down at the Harkonnen attire she still wears, and she glares at it as if it offends her to see it. But then Jessica continues speaking as she takes hold of her hands, and she looks back at her with a question in her eyes. ]
You're not- are you talking about... How are you able to talk to her before she's even here?