It had been two weeks since that last, wrenching phone call ( Read more... )

Ghanima had returned to her suite after class, not yet willing to go down to the board of the missing to add Algren and Tyler to the roll ( Read more... )

She had gone out on to her balcony to watch the sun rise, letting the first rays seep into her skin. Now, more than ever, Ghanima missed Dune. Missed the cleansing heat of the sun and sands. This weak sun was not her ideal choice, but it would do. It warmed her, soothed her, and steeled her resolve in what she must do.

( That had been hours ago. Years. Centuries. )

Ghanima had meditated.

She had counseled herself to patience, to trusting in the Golden Path and Leto, and in the bright minds and indomitable wills of Fandom. This too would pass, brought low like all other challengers to this place.

She had been wrong.

Ghanima had listened to the message fifty, perhaps sixty, times since last night, ( Read more... )

There was something waiting. Ghanima could feel it, hovering at the edges of her prescience like the air before a coriolis storm. Just beyond the dunes, if she cared to look.

Except that would take all the fun out of it. Infinite surprises, as she and Leto craved, and Ghanima resisted the urge to pick up her Dune Tarot. Instead she channeled ( Read more... )

"I didn't celebrate last year, you know ( Read more... )

Ghanima had hid, sensibly, when the change hit this time. She was not ashamed of being male, but looking like Leto could be awkward this time around, and she did not want to make any of the students uncomfortable.

Then Irulan had handwavily spent the night, until they were both back to their true Selves. It had been nice to have company, and ( Read more... )

Sometimes, it was very nice to have a standing account with the pizza delivery people. It insured good service and excellent food, and they knew how to get to her suite in record time. It gave Ghanima time to unpack from Special Agent Cooper's wedding instead of trying to fuss in the kitchen, especially since cooking was not one of her favorite ( Read more... )

Sunday, Ghanima had learned, was a day for lazing about and doing absolutely nothing whatsoever. Even if she hadn't yet finished class for Monday, she refused to get out of bed before noon.

Which is why she continued to ignore her ringing telephone. If it was important, she'd know. That was the joy of being a mild precognitive ( Read more... )

It would, perhaps, shock her students to know that Lady Ghanima always ate her ice cream straight out of the carton.

Ghani, however, was Fremen, and possessed a Fremen hatred of waste. Using extra plates and bowls just seemed silly, when she had a perfectly good container right here. One that she could balance easily against her knees as she read ( Read more... )