Work Text:
Paul is seventeen when he presents as an omega. It is a late presentation, and it comes as a shock to everyone. There has not been a male omega in many generations. The alphas who serve his father become even more overprotective, if possible. The Bene Gesserit, on the other hand, move with the swiftness of a striking snake.
“The Reverend Mother intends to pay us a visit,” Jessica says over a breakfast like any other a few weeks after Paul’s presentation.
Leto tenses, and his gaze darts over to Paul, who blinks at his mother curiously. Leto takes a bite of his scrambled eggs. “Did she say why?” he asks with false casualness.
“No,” Jessica says simply. She takes a sip of her juice. “She’ll be here tomorrow.”
A flurry of preparations ensue, and all too soon the next day arrives. Paul watches the Reverend Mother descend from her ship with interest. The woman is austere and forbidding, and Paul feels a great deal of apprehension. He isn’t so young that he doesn’t recognize that this visit is of great importance. The greeting ceremony goes on without a fault, and then the Reverend Mother walks over to where Jessica and Paul stand. “So this is your boy, Jessica,” she says.
“Yes, Reverend Mother.” Jessica gestures Paul forward.
Paul bows politely. “A pleasure to meet you.”
The Reverend Mother considers him, and he feels a prickle of unease crawl up his spine. “We’ll see about that.”
Jessica steps forward, almost as if to shield Paul from harm. “I thought we might have some tea in the garden. It’s a fine day out.”
The Reverend Mother turns to Jessica, and Paul feels as though he’s escaped from under a great weight. “Very well,” she says. “Bring your son.”
After a short break to change out of their ceremonial garb, Jessica knocks at Paul’s door. Paul takes a last look in the mirror, attempts fruitlessly to tuck away an errant curl, and goes to let her in.
Jessica takes his measure and reaches out to cup his cheek. “Whatever happens,” she begins, and then she trails off uncharacteristically.
Paul places his hand over hers. “We’ll face it,” he says, and he tries to sound more sure than he is.
A slight smile flits over her face, there one moment and gone the next. They stay that way a second longer, and then Jessica’s hand falls. She nods briskly and says, “Let’s go.”
The Reverend Mother and Jessica begin the tea by discussing small trivialities about Bene Gesserit life and Paul’s upbringing, but once the Reverend Mother takes her last sip of tea and sets down her cup, the time for pleasantries has passed. “I come bearing a decree from the emperor,” she says, and Jessica stills. Paul’s hands clench into fists in his lap, but he uses his training to remain outwardly calm.
“Oh?” Jessica prods delicately.
“The emperor has made a marriage match for Paul,” the Reverend Mother says.
Jessica pauses, then asks, “To whom is Paul betrothed?”
“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” the Reverend Mother says with implacable finality.
Jessica pales, and her eyes flutter shut in pained acceptance. Paul doesn’t move, doesn’t do much of anything except attempt to absorb the news. A second passes, and then Jessica regains a steely composure. “I see.”
“It is fate,” the Reverend Mother says. Jessica looks at Paul with sad eyes before bowing her head in acceptance.
The Reverend Mother leaves for her rooms after that, having delivered her message. The moment she is out of sight, Jessica takes one of Paul’s clenched fists into her hand. They sit there silently for a time, and Paul pretends not to notice when a stray tear falls from his mother’s eye.
Finally, Jessica takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes, and stands. “I must tell your father.”
“Ok,” Paul says. He feels numb.
“You’re free to do what you wish for the rest of the day.” It’s a reprieve Paul might have celebrated to hear just a day ago, but now he would rather have something to do, some duty to fulfill, as opposed to sitting in silence.
Paul realizes after a beat that his mother is waiting for a response. “Thank you, Mother,” he says.
She nods before turning to leave. Paul watches her walk stiffly away, then looks around himself. The garden is just beginning to bloom in a sign of early spring. Will he still be here to see this garden bloom next year? Or will his life have changed completely by then? Where will he live? What will he do? How will he feel? Who will he become? The questions overwhelm him, and he breathes steadily, in and out, again and again, in an attempt to calm his nerves.
The Reverend Mother stays for another day before leaving to begin work on the marriage contract. Negotiations begin with her on Caladan but continue long after she is gone. Paul attends the meetings, but he is mostly a spectator to the Baron’s posturing for power and his parents’ stubborn insistence upon his safety and well-being. Eventually, it is agreed that Paul and Feyd-Rautha will meet on neutral ground every three months until they come of age at eighteen. The emperor offers his home planet as the first location, and the first meeting is scheduled in a month.
Paul spends that month learning what he can of the Harkonnens, though he suspects his teachers are conflicted about what to tell him. His mother tells of their fraught relations with the Bene Gesserit, his father speaks of the many dishonorable acts they have committed against the Atreides over the generations, and Gurney is silent on the subject, though he takes over Paul’s sword training from Duncan and teaches him the dirtiest moves Paul has ever learned.
Paul attempts to learn of Giedi Prime and the Harkonnen lineage. He is most curious about the mechanics of the black sun, and largely studies that topic. He attempts to learn of the gladiatorial fights that are popular on the planet, but finds the footage disturbing. So he immerses himself in a study of the ecology, or lack thereof, on the planet. Perhaps he can be of use in that way, once he is married. He would like to restore a balance to Giedi Prime’s nature. It would be a worthy project. Paul tries to think of that possible aspect of his marriage and not the part where he will be married to Feyd-Rautha.
Too soon, the time comes to travel to the first meeting. Duncan is going with him to command his contingent of guards, and a small staff comes along as well. Paul and Jessica go over his wardrobe on the evening before his departure, and then Paul reads, or attempts to read, with his parents in his father’s study. Paul senses that his parents are drawing out the evening to delay parting with him, but eventually they must go to sleep. Leto hugs Paul tightly, and then Jessica kisses him on the cheek before they part ways to rest.
Paul stares up at the ceiling for hours before sleep takes him, and then he dreams nonsensical dreams. He wakes to the light of early dawn and is grateful, though perplexed, that he hasn’t had a vision of the Harkonnens at all.
The trip to the emperor’s home planet is long and uneventful, and it gives Paul plenty of time to worry. When they arrive, Paul is overwhelmed by the ostentatious décor and abundant plant life. He goes through the motions of greeting the emperor’s household, and then it’s time for the meeting.
Paul is ushered into what seems to be the main garden of the palace and told to wait for Feyd-Rautha’s arrival. Paul stands by the central fountain and wonders if this is some sort of power play on Feyd-Rautha’s part to make him wait. He resolves to reserve judgement until he knows this person, his mysterious fiancée, better. He trails his fingers through the water and senses the approach of two men long before they appear. He watches the path they approach on, and he waits until Feyd-Rautha appears.
The first impression Paul has of Feyd-Rautha is that of perpetual motion. Feyd-Rautha stalks toward him like a predator and circles the fountain where Paul stands, as if to get the measure of Paul. Feyd-Rautha is hairless, as Paul had read he’d be, and despite expecting it, it still manages to surprise him. It lends an alien cast to Feyd-Rautha’s features, a look of something different from the norm. Feyd-Rautha finishes his circuit and stops to lean against the gatepost opposite Paul. He watches Paul in silence, as if waiting to see what Paul will do.
Paul casts about for something to say, and what he comes up with is, “How was your journey here?”
Feyd-Rautha huffs a half laugh that Paul suspects is scornful, but he replies with, “Long and boring.” Feyd-Rautha’s voice is deep and a little rough, and Paul decides it suits him.
“Do you dislike space travel?” Paul asks. It’s an innocuous enough question, but he has to begin getting to know his fiancée somehow.
“Yes.” Feyd-Rautha seems amused, but he answered the question, so Paul takes that as a positive sign.
“I don’t mind it, as long as I have enough to keep my mind occupied,” Paul says.
Feyd-Rautha cocks his head. “And what occupies your mind, Paul Atreides?”
“You, mostly,” Paul says in a bout of unintentional honesty. He feels his ears and neck heat with embarrassment and resolves not to say any more.
Feyd-Rautha grins, showing more teeth than Paul thinks is necessary. “Really.”
“Aren’t you wondering about our marriage, too?” Paul asks. “How it will be, how we will treat each other, where we will live, all of that?”
Feyd-Rautha’s grin turns sardonic. “I spend most of my time thinking about how to stay alive.”
Paul blinks, taken aback. He supposes that shouldn’t surprise him, knowing what he does about the Harkonnens. Silence reigns for a long moment before Paul breaks it. “Maybe that will change.”
Feyd-Rautha considers Paul with a piercing gaze. “Maybe.”
Paul feels hopeful at Feyd-Rautha’s response. Maybe this marriage won’t have to be as horrible as his friends and family seem to think. “Should we make an effort to learn about each other, since we traveled all this way to meet?” Paul asks hopefully.
“Very well,” Feyd-Rautha replies. “Tell me of life on Caladan.”
Feyd-Rautha could not have picked a subject more suited to Paul. Paul spends the rest of their visit together waxing poetic about the ecosystem of his home planet with Feyd-Rautha interjecting a question here and there. It doesn’t occur to him until he is well on his way back home that Feyd-Rautha said nothing about Giedi Prime.
Paul’s loved ones greet him with concerned glances, but Paul feels less apprehensive than before. Feyd-Rautha had been courteous enough toward him, nothing like the stories he’d heard. If things continue this way, he feels that he has a good chance at an agreeable marriage, at least. He resolves to ask Feyd-Rautha more questions about himself the next time they meet, and he turns over in his mind ideas for what those questions might be in the ensuing months.
Their next visit together, they have agreed, through diplomatic proxies, to meet for tea in one of the emperor’s summer palaces. Naturally, they both bring poison testers, and intricate plans are made to ensure Paul’s safety. By the time Paul has run the gamut of safety measures and enters the gazebo where the tea service is set up, he is more than ready for refreshment.
Feyd-Rautha waits for him, looking out over the garden, and acknowledges him with a nod. “Hello,” Paul says as he sits and pours a cup of tea. He sips at his drink and watches Feyd-Rautha consider his surroundings before asking, “What do you think of the emperor’s gardens?”
“I have little basis for comparison, so I haven’t formed an opinion,” Feyd-Rautha says.
“Do you not have gardens on Giedi Prime?” Paul asks.
“No. We’re more utilitarian,” Feyd-Rautha says with a wry smile.
“Do you not enjoy beautiful things?”
Feyd-Rautha gives Paul a slow once over. “I didn’t say that.” Paul furrows his brow, confused by Feyd-Rautha’s response, but Feyd-Rautha continues, “There is a particular beauty in deadly things that I admire, for instance.”
Paul thinks of the elegance of a well-executed sword strike and nods. “I understand.”
Feyd-Rautha pulls out a chair and sits opposite Paul. “What do you consider beautiful?”
With that question, Paul is off again, talking of sunsets and thunderstorms and his parents’ love for each other, and yet again he fails to ask more questions of Feyd-Rautha.
In the months that follow, Paul goes through his first heat. It is uncomfortable and embarrassing, and afterwards Paul is left with a longing for something more that he can’t quite define. He finds himself taking long walks out on the cliffs by the sea and looking out over the water, thinking of nothing and feeling an odd bitter sweetness. He supposes he’s adjusting to his newfound nature as an omega. Being an omega doesn’t seem to change much, except that it does in a million little ways, in how protective everyone is over him, and in how he feels as though he lacks something, though he doesn’t know what.
The next palace where Feyd-Rautha and Paul meet has a famous labyrinth on the grounds. When Paul suggests that they explore it, Feyd-Rautha shrugs and agrees. Paul takes the lead through the winding pathways, enjoying the puzzle, and it’s not long before he rounds a corner to find a dead end. He takes a step back into Feyd-Rautha and stumbles. Feyd-Rautha steadies him, and for a moment they stand frozen facing each other. “My mistake,” Paul says softly. When he breathes in, he smells iron and spice, and something about it soothes him.
“Hmm,” Feyd-Rautha responds, staring down at him. A shadow shifts behind him, and Paul’s eyes flick to it. He sees a black clad man lunge forward with a raised blade, and he reacts without thinking.
“STOP,” he says with the Voice, and both Feyd-Rautha and the assassin freeze. Paul doesn’t know how long he can hold the killer at bay, so out of desperation, he covers Feyd-Rautha’s ears and says, “DIE.”
The assassin drops to the ground, convulses, and falls still. Paul’s hands fall from Feyd-Rautha’s ears, and he looks into Feyd-Rautha’s eyes, expecting something like fear, or anger, perhaps. But Feyd-Rautha just glances at the dead assassin and then stares intently at Paul. A smile starts to form at the corners of his mouth. “You used the Voice on him.”
“We’re lucky I found the right pitch,” Paul says. “I’m still learning it.”
“What other skills are you still learning?” Feyd-Rautha asks. Paul shrugs, feeling inexplicably shy, and Feyd-Rautha’s smile turns into a grin. “Beautiful and deadly, my favorite combination,” he says.
Paul feels his face heat, and he looks at the assassin, grateful for the distraction and finding it difficult to continue meeting Feyd-Rautha’s eyes. “We should report the attack to our guards and start an investigation.”
Feyd-Rautha seems to hesitate for a second before stepping back to allow Paul to pass. “Very well.”
When Duncan learns of the attack, he is furious and quickly whisks Paul back to Caladan, where the Atreides and Harkonnen security forces grudgingly cooperate in a full-scale investigation. The culprit turns out to be a noble who fears the increased influence a Harkonnen and Atreides marriage might bring. While the Atreides forces begin to arrange for a trial before the emperor, Harkonnen forces act with swift brutality to kill the noble and his family.
Paul isn’t sure how he feels about it. On the one hand, the threat is gone and a clear message is sent. On the other, it probably wasn’t necessary to kill the whole family, and a trial would have been better. He wrestles with the dissonance for a few weeks but ultimately decides that the Harkonnens have a right to their anger and justice, the same as the Atreides do. The attempt was on both Paul and Feyd-Rautha’s lives, after all. Worse things have been done in the name of revenge.
Paul begins to dream of Feyd-Rautha, of the slope of his shoulders and the strength in his limbs, and he wonders if soon he will have visions involving him, too. He almost looks forward to it, almost waits eagerly to find out how they will turn out together, as much as a vision might tell him that, at least.
His first vision of Feyd-Rautha comes without fanfare, on an otherwise unremarkable night. The two of them are standing in a room in formal wear, and Feyd-Rautha reaches out to brush Paul’s hair out of his face. His eyes are a compelling mixture of burning heat and focus, and Paul wants to keep looking into them, but then the vision fades.
The visions arrive with more frequency after that. In one, Paul and Feyd-Rautha laugh together over some unknown joke. In another, they walk side by side down a corridor with hands brushing. Once, Paul sees them kissing, and another time, his hands dance along the muscles of Feyd-Rautha’s abdomen. Paul isn’t sure he is ready to see these things, isn’t sure how to react or what to think. He sometimes feels guilty that he has this knowledge of Feyd-Rautha when Feyd-Rautha has no similar knowledge of him. He wonders when these visions will come to pass, how long before they are at ease with each other, if indeed that is what these visions are showing.
Their next meeting is at an ice festival on a frozen planet. Paul smiles when he sees Feyd-Rautha, and Feyd-Rautha seems taken aback before he returns the smile with a quirk of his lips. Paul feels awkward as he looks up at Feyd-Rautha, knowing what he does now. “Do you have snow on Giedi Prime?" He blurts out, eager to fill the silence.
“Some,” Feyd-Rautha replies. “At high elevations.”
“We have cold winters on Caladan, but the sea never freezes,” Paul says.
Feyd-Rautha nods and gestures for Paul to set the pace on the path ahead. Ice sculptures line the walk, and Paul admires the craftsmanship. At the end of the path is an elaborate sculpture of a couple dancing. Paul stops to look at it, then turns to Feyd-Rautha to comment on the sculpture to find that Feyd-Rautha is staring at him with that same burning hunger in his eyes that Paul saw in his vision.
Paul takes a step closer to Feyd-Rautha, and when Feyd-Rautha’s only reaction is to grow very still, Paul feels bold enough to take another step, and another, until they are toe to toe. Feyd-Rautha looks at Paul as though only Paul can supply what he desperately needs, and without further thought, Paul leans forward to kiss Feyd-Rautha softly.
The kiss doesn’t remain innocent for long. Feyd-Rautha curls a hand around the nape of Paul’s neck and licks into Paul’s mouth, and Paul feels a heat grow in the pit of his stomach that he has only rarely felt before, and only ever in the privacy of his own rooms at night. When they part, Paul breathes in the scent of Feyd-Rautha such that he can almost taste it, and Feyd-Rautha’s eyes flick down to Paul’s lips and become, if possible, hungrier.
“I don’t think our marriage will be such a bad thing,” Paul says quietly, almost to himself.
Feyd-Rautha’s hand slips from Paul’s hair back down to his side, and he takes a deliberate step back with a ravenous smile. “Agreed.” He nods at the way back to their ships. “Shall I escort you back?” Paul nods, and if their shoulders brush on their way along the path, neither mention it.
Their fourth meeting marks a year since their engagement, and it’s the last before their marriage. The next few months are full of wedding preparations, and by the time the day arrives, Paul never wants to see another seating chart again for the rest of his life. The ceremony is long and tedious, except for the part where Feyd-Rautha doesn’t stop looking at Paul, and Paul can’t stop looking back.
When they are finally alone, the first thing Paul does is unbutton his stuffy uniform jacket. He slows as he notices Feyd-Rautha watching him. Paul tilts his head and smiles quizzically. “What?” he asks.
Feyd-Rautha huffs a laugh and stalks forward like the lazy jungle cats Paul studied on long afternoons in the library. “You really don’t know,” he murmurs as he reaches up and brushes Paul’s hair out of his face. “No matter. I will show you,” he growls before claiming Paul’s lips in a fierce kiss.
They pull each other’s clothes off in a flurry of activity, and Paul sets about learning what makes Feyd-Rautha groan with pleasure. Feyd-Rautha is skilled in his attentions toward Paul, and soon they are both gasping in ecstasy.
Their climax is nothing like Paul has experienced before, and he hums with satisfaction once they have calmed to lie together. Paul shifts to rest his head on Feyd-Rautha’s shoulder, and Feyd-Rautha allows it. Paul examines Feyd-Rautha’s profile and likes what he sees in the peaceful lines of Feyd-Rautha’s face. “We will be happy together,” he says softly to Feyd-Rautha in the blissful quiet.
“Is that a fact?” Feyd-Rautha murmurs in his gravelly voice.
“I have seen it,” Paul says with certainty.
Feyd-Rautha turns on his side and engulfs Paul in his arms. “Who am I to argue with fate?”