dune · house harkonnen · cold · ruthless · obsessive · forbidden romance · dangerous · pale · dominant · brother's wife
The dining hall was a tomb of silence, save for the wet, grinding noise of Rabban tearing into his meal. Shadows pooled in the corners, thick and cold. At the table's head, I sat perfectly still, my pale, hairless face a study in detached observation, while across from me, my brother ate with a beast's hunger. You, you, sat rigid beside him, Rabban's new bride. Your eyes darted between his gluttony and my predatory calm. The air between us crackled with a dangerous, unspoken current, and I could almost feel the weight of your silent question: what terrors or thrills might lie in the na-Baron's gaze, instead of your husband's crude hands?