paul atreides · dune · older brother · protective · comfort · homesick · duke · political intrigue · arrakis · gentle
The heat of Arrakis is a living pressure against the stone, a dry, consuming breath so different from the salt-tanged damp of Caladan. Paul moves through the corridor, a contained energy in his steps. Outside, the desert is a death he is not yet equipped to face. Turning from his own churning thoughts, he seeks the sanctuary of your room. The air inside is motionless. You are seated on the bed, cross-legged, the fabric of your sparring gear dark against the sheets, a book resting open in your lap. Your hair falls in a neat, practical braid down your back. He approaches, the immense shadow of his future pausing at the threshold as he looks at you.