Dune fic
Title: “At Night”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG, I guess
Timeline: Part I: ‘Dune’; Part II: ‘The Children Of Dune’
Summary: Muad’Dib’s is the destiny chosen not by him but by higher powers. Does he really want it? Can he really take it? Please R&R!
Disclaimer: Property of Frank Herbert. But the little song at the end belongs to me.
A/N: This is my first Dune fanfiction apart from a couple of poems. Be merciful!
Special Thanx: to my wonderful beta Lady Domino (go read her fics right now!)
Dedication: This is a Christmas present for my sweet friend Marilena. I hope you love it! I’m sorry I couldn’t manage a LotR story (I know you’re mad about Haldir, but I can’t pretend to be as good as Tolkien, sorryyyyy!) but you’re the only one who shares my love for Dune (after all, that’s how we met, isn’t it? *hint*) Enjoy! Merry Christmas!
AT NIGHT
I see the world drawing to its end bit by bit, and my head explodes under the pressure of those visions. Green on black, the Jihad spills into the Known Universe, breaking it to pieces, dividing and uniting it once again under the iron fist of Muad’Dib’s crusade.
Muad’Dib…
I loathe that name. It is everything I love and hate inside myself. They don’t know that about me. They will never understand the nature of the visions that haunt me. They don’t know that at night when everyone in the sietch slumbers I look at myself with the mind’s eye and I can’t see Muad’Dib. I recognize the 15-year-old Paul Atreides from the far-away planet of Caladan; ‘a planet’ that keeps spinning in outer space, so fresh and green because of its blissful woods and cool oceans.
All that I have is sand, its bitter taste in my mouth, its scorching whiteness under the sun of Arrakis. I am the Sun of Arrakis.
I remember it used to rain heavily on Caladan and I used to run away into the woods and play in the rain. I never valued the cost of water but moisture gives power, it gives freedom and life here, in this hell of sand.
A single tear streams down my cheek. I erase it quickly. Chani is asleep, my lovely Sihaya, so she won’t see this. The Fremen don’t let water go to waste. I am one of them.
Paul Atreides is dead. Don’t speak this name, oh, you cruel wind cruel wind from farther regions!
At night I let myself be afraid of what’s coming. At night I muse and try to tell right from wrong only to realize that it is not up to me to decide. At night I mourn the death of my father, at night I pray to gods other than Shai-hulud, at night I sing other songs, at night I recall my childhood and tell myself I am no god to lead those men to their goal. But only at night.
Chani stirs in her sleep.
“Usul”, she calls softly. I sit by her side, I stroke her hair lightly. Her elf-like face, pallid in the light of desert moon, is turned to me. She blinks and asks quietly: “What troubles you, my love?”
“Nothing”, I lie. She thinks I have found peace in these lands. “Sleep tight. Tomorrow we start another battle”.
I hardly catch my breath. The same deadly circle every day. One battle is won, the other follows closely. I plant a kiss upon my Sihaya’s closed eye-lids. She lets a smile unfold on her lips.
II
The winds of Arrakis blow softly over the dunes. The sand streams down, bringing the memory of the oceans out, still as alive and strong in my head as in the last days of my youth. I lost it. I left it on Caladan, I know that now. I was never a child on Arrakis.
Twelve years of war have left their mark on my soul. I feel dead, and gone, and superficial. There is new life inside my beloved Chani that is slowly driving her to the edge. The risk of losing her is a bloody imprint upon my soul yet there is nothing I can do about it.
One battle ends, another begins…
I ask myself if there is something we have lost when I let my army of loyal Fedaykin take over the planet. We dreamt so much about it. A man should never have his dreams fulfilled.
A storm is born deep in the desert. It’s speeding towards us as it threatens to take away all that I hold dear to my heart. Here’s to the gratitude of this planet!
The Stone Burner has destroyed my eye-sight but it didn’t make me blind. I see more clearly now than I ever have. I bathe in the brightness of my visions. The path is laid before me. I have seen it so many times that I can hardly ever forget it no matter how hard I try to scratch it out of my mind. Two women. Plots within plots. A child that will burn the candle that is my love.
I look in the mirror. I cannot see the reflection with my eyes for they are gone for good, but I can picture myself very clearly. I haven’t changed much save for a faint net of wrinkles that covers the face of a man of about thirty. I smile sadly. The man in the mirror is no longer a friend of mine. He is not the one whom I can trust.
The children are born. The children… I never saw children.
I must go now. I must wash the blood off my hands.
Return to the desert, come home, brothers, home!
Let’s feast and let’s party to old Gurney’s songs.
We shall know no fear, we shall know no pain,
Amidst cruel sands, my friends, we shall dream of rain!
December 9-10, 2006