Chapter Text
“I’m sorry what?” You choked, your glass of water falling from your hand. A servant in your peripherals rushed to pick it up.
The room was spinning, you were sure your head had fallen off your body and was twirling on the dinner table.
“The Harkonnen’s have offered an opportunity for an alliance. You are to wed the youngest nephew of the Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.” Your father’s eyes were stuck to his plate, picking at the green vegetables of tonight's feast with his fork.
So you had heard him right the first time.
Your brother, Paul, scoffed loudly as he shook his head. “You have got to be kidding.”
Your father glanced at him, though he had yet to look at you.
“How- I mean, when did this happen?” You stood, your chair scraping against the tile floor loudly. Your hands were clenched, shaking with rage. How dare they pawn you off like cattle?
“Y/n, please..” Lady Jessica made a calming gesture with her hand, but it only infuriated you more.
“When did this happen?!” You shouted, making your father grip his fork so tight his knuckles turned white.
“The Baron extended a letter of invitation to a council meeting. While I was there, he informed me of his intentions to create an alliance with Feyd-Rautha and you. If it comforts you at all, the Na-Baron was just as surprised as you are now.” He looked at you guiltily. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad for him when he was talking about marrying you into a family of murderers.
And, yes, you were sure the fearsome Feyd-Rautha was very worried about having a wife. If only for the reason that marriage would require his fidelity. He’d have to get rid of his concubines if he wanted to stay in your father’s good favor. Then again, when did he really care about the impressions he made on people.
You snarled and started walking out of the dining hall. To hell with all of them, shipping you off to a Harkonnen.
You stopped at the door, however, as you figured you should know the details of your situation. Taking a breath, you turned back to your meek father and demanded to know what they were doing to proceed in the betrothal.
“Well, we’ve been invited to stay on Giedi Prime for a week, then the Na-Baron and you will discuss. If all is well, you get married and there will be strained peace.” He glanced at Lady Jessica before continuing. “If it goes awry, there may be a full out war.”
You inhaled sharply. A war. You had always considered the prospect. But to have it so near and so possible, took your breath away.
If you married, you’d be a prisoner to the Harkonnen’s. If you didn’t, you’d most likely end up dead.
You thought back to your training with Duncan. That could come in handy if you were to get into a fight with your to-be husband.
“Ok, I will go see him.”
Lady Jessica seemed to relax at that.
“But!” You hold up your hand and your father squints at you. “I make no promises of a wedding.” You sound confident to your own ears, but you know you don’t really have a choice.
There is another thing on your mind.
The traditional marriage dances. One you perform for your fiance's family, another for your to-be husband himself and one with Feyd-Rautha. You shivered at the thought.
You had always been a graceful dancer, but to show your passion to the people yours had long been at odds with felt wrong . Terrible, even.
–
Feyd was livid. His uncle had betrothed him to a Princess of Atreides. He nearly stabbed the already-dying man in the neck when he casually threw it out at a council meeting the Duke happened to attend.
He was shaking with rage as he paced his room, already having thrown the majority of his knives into a wall or a nearby servant.
Marriage . He snarled at the thought. Feyd-Rautha was not meant to marry, he was meant to fight. That’s what his uncle had taught him since he came here, why was it so different now that he was of age? It really shouldn’t be, he was not so different than he was a year ago, at 17.
His three darlings slithered into the room.
He would have to kill them if they went through with this. Fidelity was expected in alliance marriages, as aggravating as that might be. It wasn’t an official law, and his uncle wouldn’t mind if he kept a concubine or two, but the Atreides are conservative when it came to sex. Plus, his new wife was all for him, while his darlings had slept around in their previous lives. Though, he supposed, there was no guarantee that she was a virgin. Maybe his potential new wife will be worth the trouble.
“Feyd, what troubles you?” One slithered around him, feeling up and down his chest. He doesn’t know which is which. They all look the same to him and he hasn’t given them names.
Another came up behind him. “We can help if you need to blow off some steam ..” She giggled in his ear and he was not opposed to the proposal, especially as the third crawled through his legs and started loosening his pants.
He growled as they all started to taste him in one way or another.
He wasn’t married yet, so let him enjoy himself.
–
It was time. Your heart was in your throat.
The ship had landed on Giedi Prime, and you got up from your statue-like sitting position. You decided to go with something colorful, a red dress with a leather corset secured around your middle. You refused a veil, worried it would keep you from holding your head high. Your curled hair hung out from the sides of your updo, and as the ship opened, it appeared gray in the black Giedi Prime sunlight.
You licked your lips once, they were stained red, like your dress. You wore the symbol of your house on your chest and on a diadem sat over the styled hair on your head. If you were about to be the only one with hair on a whole planet, you were going to brag about it.
As you stepped out, the lack of color surprised you. You supposed it shouldn't, given the research you'd done, but the atmosphere was just so shocking.
The walk to the throne room seemed shorter than you anticipated. You walked behind your father, surrounded by Atreidian guards. Your breaths suddenly felt heavy and your grip tightened on your brother’s arm.
The guard pushed the large doors open.
The throne room was dark and eerie. The Baron loomed above you all, studying you from his immovable position on the throne.
“Duke Leto!” The gravelly voice almost made you flinch as it echoed through the halls. “So glad you’ve come to join us, we’ve been looking forward to your arrival.” It was a lie said through his teeth, and it was obvious how he knew everyone could tell.
There were two pale figures standing on either side of him. One slender and muscular, watching you pointedly with his head tilted down and a clenched jaw. His eyes narrowed when they found yours. Another bulkier, but seemed to carry less animosity that the other did. His eyes were on the floor.
Your father bowed. “Yes, I’m glad we could make it.” Your father was also lying, as you heard him complaining about it the whole way here. And who would want to come to Giedi Prime for a vacation?
A short silence rang through the small space until your father spoke again. “This is my firstborn, Prince Paul Atreides.” Your father gestured behind him to your brother.
Paul stepped forward, letting go of your arm and bowed shallowly, keeping his face neutral. He stepped back, next to you again.
“And, my daughter, Princess Y/n Atreides.” You stepped forward carefully, picking up your skirts and curtsying just as shallow as your brother had. You didn’t step back when you stood up, though, waiting to be introduced to your potential future-husband.
“This is my second nephew and heir, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.” The long title turned to mush in your brain as the more slender of the two stepped forward at his uncle’s words. His blue eyes locked onto yours. A bit of color in a colorless world.
He walked down the steps, stopping at the platform you were on. He approached you slowly and bowed lower than you had, never breaking eye contact with you. Then, he stood back up and took your hand in his. When did your palms start to sweat?
He pressed a cold kiss to your knuckles and you tried not to flinch away. “Pleasure.” He whispered, his voice was deep and gravelly, similar to his uncle’s in a way that made you want to pull away from him.
He gave you a black smile and you forced your lips to twitch upwards as well. “Pleasure’s all mine.” You responded, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating so loudly.
He grunted and stepped back, drinking you in once more with his eyes.
“Time for the feast!” The Baron declared.
Your eyes locked with your betrothed once more before he turned and headed to the dining area.
–
You were sitting next to Feyd, of course you were. You were most likely going to be married, after all. His eyes weren’t on you, rather choosing to glare in his Uncle’s direction. You took this as silent rejection and couldn’t help but feel slightly self conscious at the prospect of him despising marriage with you so much. Granted, you were strangers, but you thought you looked pleasing enough.
The Baron sat at the head of the table, your father next to him. Feyd and you were a little further down, sat in front of the main courses.
When you looked at Feyd, you examined his face. When you looked at his face, rather than his bald head, you noticed his face was quite decently structured. He had a sculpted brow, leading down to glaring eyes, his nose was slender, but strong and, most notably, he had big, impossibly pouty lips. They looked slightly pink, as if he bitten them out of habit.
You looked even farther downward and found he had a warrior’s physique. His lean shoulders were muscled and his arms were noticeably straining the tight leather of his suit. You tore your eyes as they started to stray to his lower abdomen and that’s when you realized he was watching you.
As your head snapped up, he caught your gaze with squinted eyes. He was taller than you by a good few inches, though with your heels, you had only been about an inch shorter than him standing up.
He raised a non-existent eyebrow at you and you tilted your head slightly. He was pretty. For a Harkonnen . His eyes flickered every now and again, betraying his attempt to hide his nervousness.
You stared at each other for a moment before he turned to his plate and started eating. He was obviously excited for this meal, you assumed it was in his honor, as it was his engagement in the Baron’s eyes.
You could tell he was holding back from eating fast, his hands shook slightly as he took the first bite of the strange meat placed before him. He swallowed it in one, barely chewing.
He looked up at you as he licked his fork. You snapped your gaze ahead of you, to your brother. He was eyeing your betrothed with a heavy glare.
“Ok?” He signed, reaching for his glass.
You nodded in response, starting on your own meal. You had heard rumors about the strangeness of the Harkonnens and braced yourself, as you figured Feyd-Rautha’s odd behavior was only the beginning.
“So, what is the schedule? We should begin traditions first thing after dinner.” Your father cleared his throat, addressing the Baron.
“Ah, yes, traditions.” He smiled widely, his black teeth glinting in the artificial light. You crinkled your nose in disgust. “Feyd came up with the idea of a gladiator fight as our part of the bargain.”
All eyes glanced at the Na-Baron. He was staring at his uncle, goblet full of a mystery liquid held up to his lips. He didn’t grace their glances with a verbal answer. Instead, he set the goblet down rather loudly, his lips turning up slightly.
“Yes.. a wonderful idea, my Lord Na-Baron.” Your father didn’t sound pleased, if anything, rather terrified as he addressed Feyd-Rautha. “Who will be fighting?”
You leaned in, curious as to who they thought could best entertain you.
“Why, Feyd himself, of course.” The Baron stated as if it was the obvious answer. The Na-Baron seemed to have expected this, not showing much interest in the topic of conversation anymore as he picked at his food.
There was silence.
You felt your palms begin to sweat. Feyd was going to compete in gladiator competitions? What if he died? There would be no truce and you might have to marry the brother who was a little harder on the eyes than Feyd was.
Your brother voiced your thoughts. “I mean no disrespect,” his voice was dripping with disrespect, “but, isn’t the risk too high for the Na-Baron to fight? He could die.” It was a valid point, but not one that should be made at a Harkonnen dinner.
Feyd raised a sardonic, bare eyebrow and leveled your brother with a dark glare that made you want to kick him. “I assure you, I’m more than capable of winning.” He licked his black teeth under the cover of pale lips.
Paul ground his teeth. “And surely you understand, I don’t doubt your abilities, but it is a risk we really should not take.” His knuckles were white where he gripped his own goblet. It was similar to Feyd’s but obviously not customized for the Na-Baron himself.
“Hardly a risk!” The Baron intervened in the two boys’ glaring session. “Feyd is the best fighter we have on Giedi Prime.” He clapped his chubby hands and gestured to his nephew proudly. It looked like a failed attempt at clapping him on the back because he was so far from the head of the table.
Now that made you raise an eyebrow. The best . Not one of the best. The best. On Giedi Prime. Quite the compliment. You turned your gaze to Feyd, who was smirking smugly, seemingly having lost interest in the meal he was previously excited for.
“A gladiator match it will be, then.” You spoke and all heads snapped in your direction. You pretended not to notice as you took a small sip from your own goblet. Whatever it was was tangy and left a sweet aftertaste in your mouth. They’d heard about your love for sugar, then. Your goblet was obviously made for a guest of honor, with gold folded into the black material.
“Yes, it will be.” The Baron’s voice was dark. It was almost as if he was worried you’d have the final say and had to confirm that he was the one to announce it. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.
Men and their egos .
Your father spoke again. “Then, the House of Atreides will honor us with 3 dances. One for the family, a private one for the betrothed,” Feyd’s face lit up at that, looking intrigued, “and one with both the Na-Baron and the Princess.” His face dropped. I guess he hadn’t been briefed on that. The dance with him was relatively simple, if he was graceful on the battlefield as his uncle bragged, he would be just fine on the dance floor.
“The gladiator match is just before sunset.” The Baron announced, then turned back to his full plate of food.
Dinner resumed, though the tense atmosphere hadn’t gone away.
You swore there were two eyes burrowing holes into your head, but when you looked at Feyd, he was staring into his goblet. It was the Baron who was staring at you.
Your stomach did a flip. You didn’t let it show on your face.
—
The stands in which you were told to sit were hot and sticky. You were sure that if you were wearing any other material than you were, your skirts would have stuck to the seat due to the humidity. You were sitting in a box near the Baron, esteemed guests as you were. However, you wished you were further, as you could hear the Baron talking to himself through the walls. Or maybe to a non-verbal servant, you weren’t quite sure.
You examined the pair of binoculars given to you. They were a small, simple pair, clearly for one-time use.
The announcements came on the loudspeaker.
“It is with great pride that I present the Na-Baron of the people, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen as our champion!”
The roar of the crowd was deafening. They loved him. It almost made you smile.
The doors opened and out strutted Feyd, dressed in full armor and wielding two knives. He thrusted one into the air and the cheers grew louder. He reached down and pressed a button, you assumed it was a shield.
“Challenging him today will be three traitors of Giedi Prime, welcome them as enemies!”
The crowd booed loudly as three new metal doors opened, the first opponent to come out was a tall, pale man, with a buzzed head and… a limp?
“Are they drugged?” You whispered to yourself, squinting through the binoculars. You supposed it made sense, as this was all for show.
The second man also had a limp, clearly dragging himself. They were both malnourished and obviously severely drugged. Was this really what they did to traitors?
The third man, however, walked in a straight line, directly at Feyd. It made you nervous and you clutched an armrest that turned out to be your brother’s arm. He glanced at you, but his attention was captured by the fight.
The first two soldiers were down within seconds. Feyd ruthlessly slit one’s throat and stabbed the other in the heart, all within a few turns of his body. Yeah, he’d have no problem keeping up with the dances. He attacked the third and your heart was in your throat.
Don’t let me get wed to a different Harkonnen.
The man was quick on his feet and successfully dodged Feyd’s first round of blows. Feyd paused, tilting his head. He was visibly confused.
Lady Jessica’s words echoed in your head. Plans within plans .
It made you angry for Feyd. He obviously didn’t agree to this.
You heard the Baron from the other side of the wall. “Show me who you really are.”
What the hell does that mean?
Feyd then took off his button-shield and… turned it off?
He turned off his shield. What is wrong with this family?
“There he is.” You hear the rumbling voice of the Baron.
What did he plan?
You leaned forward, still clutching your brother’s arm. Black figures with horns coming out of their heads circled the two fighting figures. That certainly would’ve thrown you off if you were battling someone.
The two swung and blocked and rolled. At multiple points, the black-clad soldiers tried to intervene, only to be screamed at by Feyd.
“ Back !”
You admired his want for a fair fight.
Well, as fair as you can get in Giedi Prime.
You looked down at your lap and said a prayer. You did not want to marry the Baron or the spare. Feyd was obviously a sociopath, but that’s better than a half-alive pervert or a beast.
When you looked back, you were sure whoever you just prayed to was spiting you. The knife was inches from Feyd’s face. He yelled at the soldiers to stay back yet again.
The next thing he did, he did so swiftly you almost missed it. He turned the blade, stabbing it into the traitor’s throat. He then pressed his forehead to the other man’s, a seemingly out-of-place display of respect.
He laid the body down. If you thought the cheers were deafening before, they were astronomically louder now. He stood, walking away and thrust his knife into the air once more.
Well at least no one will try to attack me while I’m with him.
Small victories.