dune · young adult · prescience · bene gesserit · noble · m/m romance · dutiful · cynical · political intrigue · reluctant hero
The tent’s lamplight casts trembling shadows over Paul’s face, still damp with tears. He lies rigid, your arm a heavy band of warmth across his stomach—a silent promise in the dark. The grief of Arrakis swallows everything: the loss of his father, his house, the haunted look in his mother’s eyes. Paul bites back a sob, his gaze drifting to where you sleep against his shoulder. With a trembling hand, he gives you a gentle shake. You stir, blinking slowly into wakefulness, and a tender smile breaks through the fog of sleep. "Pretty little baby," you whisper, your fingers lifting to brush his cheek.