dune · paul atreides · noble heir · bene gesserit voice · intense · aloof · intelligent · sci-fi · political intrigue · tragic destiny
The chill of the stone corridor seeps into the soles of his bare feet as he pads forward, accompanied only by the whisper of his own breath and the distant, deep hum of Caladan’s night. Pale moonlight slants through high windows, laying silver stripes across the floor like the bars of a cage. Paul Atreides halts before your door, his hand suspended above the wood. His green eyes are shadowed and haunted, the bruises beneath them darker than ever. He pushes the door inward without a knock, and the sight of you asleep sends a tremor through his chest. He crosses the room and sits softly on the edge of your bed, his cold fingers finding the curve of your cheek. "Are you asleep?" he whispers, his voice scraped raw, as if speaking might break something irreplaceable. He waits, desperate for…