Na Ryat
Fandom: Dune
Pairing: Stilgar x reader
Summary: (y/n) is sent to Arrakis alongside Duncan to befriend the Fremen. Takes place before and during the movie's story.
“Keep close.” Duncan had told her for the millionth time that day and the day before, and the day before that. It seemed to be his favourite phrase since the moment they had landed on Arrakis.
During the first few days after she had arrived on Arrakis with the soldier, she had no idea what was expected of her there. Everyone kept repeating how dangerous the planet and the Fremen were. Yet there she stood on the golden sand, smelling the spice for the first time in her life. It had caught her off guard and she started coughing, which earned her a laugh from her companion. She understood what Duncan’s mission here was – learn the Fremen’s ways, earn their trust, get to know them. But all her lady told her to do on the planet was to “keep her eyes open.” Lady Jessica always had her particular ways of getting information. But when she was asked why send one of her handmaidens to the hostile and dangerous planet, she simply answered that women see things differently, and that she wanted another opinion – a woman’s one. And nobody would question death of one of a hundred handmaidens if something fatal would happen. But then Lady Jessica chose her – someone who had been by her side for almost fifteen years, someone who she claimed as one of her closest handmaidens. Surely, she would care if she lost someone like her? Lady Jessica trusted Duncan with the handmaiden’s life. “This is ridiculous. I’ll be lucky to survive myself…” Duncan protested when she told him the news. “No offense, you know you are my friend, but why would the lady send you there, of all places? I don’t think she had ever sent you away from her before.” He said, thinking with a frown. “I’ll do my best not to be a burden. You know I can hold my ground in a fight.” She said, unsure of the lady’s decision herself. He sighed but nodded. Most of the lady’s staff was trained to fight, it was necessary to be able to protect her and even themselves. That led to many tiring hours training with the war master himself. Most of the higher palace staff knew each other, some were even friends. Her thoughts were swimming as the spice invaded her lungs. Duncan patted her back roughly and she immediately straightened her spine, trying to seem ready for her mission.
It was the tall Naib himself who held a crysknife against her neck, right at the pulse point under her chin. She felt the sting of the blade before she even noticed the strikingly blue eyes furiously starring into hers. She did her best to remain calm, she knew this might happen. The Fremen walked the sand dunes quietly and often unseen, so it was no surprise they managed to catch the duo off guard. She couldn’t see Duncan, but she heard him trying to say something in Chakobsa. She was trying to think of something to do or to say, to survive this interaction, but seeing the blue of a Fremen’s eyes for the first time seemed almost too captivating to her. She only saw the eyes and the eyebrows of the man who was about to slit her throat without hesitation. Yet she saw no evil in those eyes, only fury, that perhaps wasn’t even aimed at her personally, but on all outsiders, on all colonisers of Arrakis. Her calm face and interested expression forced the man to action. He pushed the blade a little deeper, and she could feel that a little blood was drawn. He said something in Chakobsa that she couldn’t understand. “Suhl.” She said calmly. Peace. It was the only word that she could think of in this situation. “We both come in peace.” She said, trying to piece together a whole sentence. The tall man only huffed in amusement, and his grip on the blade did not falter. But there was also confusion in his eyes that she noticed. From what she understood about the Fremen, they didn’t kill without a reason, without a cause. And here she stood, a strange woman out of her element, who didn’t pose a threat, who didn’t even draw her weapon in defence. He suddenly put down his blade, and motioned to the men around to do the same, all while still looking at her, studying her. She did the same.
That was two months ago. Meanwhile she had lived among the Fremen with Duncan for several weeks. The man that almost ended her life and left her with a memory of their first meeting in a form of a small scar under her left jaw kept close to the duo during the time. Stilgar was a passionate man, a warrior, a leader. He taught them about the Fremen life, about their struggles with the spice harvesters, about their hatred for the whole empire for using the planet as if the people living there were nothing. Duncan learned about their fighting skills, and she wandered the sietch in search of information about their everyday life. Stilgar was almost always with them, they were his responsibility after all. Many evenings were spent talking, getting to know each other’s ways of thinking, trying to understand each other’s worldviews. Stilgar was a patient listener but he was also a man who had spent his whole life fighting for the freedom of his people, and he didn’t trust easily. Yet she couldn’t help but think that after a few weeks he was starting to trust them.
On several occasions it was just the two of them, he asked her questions about her people’s plans, and she tried to answer as sincerely as she could. She could see that Stilgar appreciated that. Duncan was a soldier, who obeyed orders without a fault. But her only order for Arakkis was to keep her eyes open. And that’s what she did. Studied the people, talked to those that were willing to have a conversation with her, never trying to lie to them, never trying to hide the real reason she was there. She felt that Stilgar appreciated her honesty.
One evening she watched a group of elderly women preparing food, young children running about, sometimes trying to help around, and she couldn’t help to think about how familiar the scene seemed. The warmth of the sun-heated walls around, the smell of spice and cooking amplified by the fires, the occasional laugh coming from the group of people, the happy yelps of children running around. She recognized some of the little ones – Droass and Meni were among them. They were siblings, Meni being the older one. She was the one to ask her why her eyes were so strangely blue – not fully, but only a little. She chuckled at the memory. This was their home. A home just like any other, despite the circumstances surrounding them every second of their lives. They were all people, different, yet exactly the same as her. “You think of joining the cooking crew, ryat?” came a deep accented voice from behind her. She turned around to see Stilgar approaching her. She stood in the doorway, hidden from the view of the people she was watching. She smiled at him. She had noticed how calm he always seemed inside the sietch, among his people. “I don’t think they would welcome my input.” She said, turning back to the group. “Why? Your Chakobsa is good enough.” He said, coming closer. “Shukran.” She said with a smile. It was a rare occasion, but he returned the gesture and her knees suddenly felt weak. “But I’m afraid that my cooking includes too much water and vegetables for your people’s liking.” She said with a chuckle. Stilgar only nodded. He was a man of few words, which was another thing that she had noticed quickly about him. His expressions were often hard to read, but sometimes she could see through him. It was his eyes that usually betrayed the stoic mask. “I was simply thinking about how peaceful this all seems.” She said, gesturing towards the cooking area. “Just people preparing food, children running around, laughter, talking…” she trailed off. “It seems so mundane, yet it’s so, so important.” She added. There was silence after that. She turned around to face the Naib, waiting if he had something to say. He watched her with curious eyes. “Are all your people so attentive?” He asked quietly. She smiled lightly. She understood what he meant. “They try to be.” She said after a moment. “The duke is a fair man. He would never want to exploit your people the way the Harkonnens do. I suppose we are here to show you that. But I also know how little my or their,” she gestured towards the Fremen people, “worldview and opinions matter, when the decisions of the empire are in play.” She said. Stilgar nodded. The smile disappeared from his face. “You and Duncan Idaho will always be welcome in the sietch; you have my word on that. But I cannot speak for your duke and the others.” He said looking her straight in the eyes. His stare was intense, she had to blink a few times. She never imagined to receive such a promise from the Fremen leader himself. His eyes shifted to the red scar under her chin and back to her eyes. “Thank you, Stilgar. It’s an honour.” She said sincerely. He nodded.
“I’m afraid we will be leaving tomorrow.” She then said suddenly, realizing her reason for wandering around the sietch that evening. “The duke, his family and all the crew form Caladan are supposed to come in a couple of days and my presence is required at the palace. My lady demands it.” She said, looking at the ground. Stilgar only hummed in response. “Tomorrow, I will escort you, then.” He said matter-of-factly. “There’s no need…” She wanted to protest. “I will.” He said calmly but sternly in a way that didn’t leave room for argument. She nodded, suddenly sensing the familiar warm feeling bloom in her chest. She had felt it many times during her time in the sietch and among the Fremen, and always in the presence of the Naib. She tried her hardest to supress it deep down inside herself. Yet his eyes always awoke that fire inside her. She knew that her time near the man was limited and that it was useless to keep her hopes up. She needed to stay grounded, thinking about her duties. Yet her hand often found its way to the small scar Stilgar’s crysknife left on her neck. “Thank you, Stilgar. For everything.” She said sincerely, unsure of what to do next. She had to admit that she was looking forward to a nice bath, and several full glasses of water, yet she was reluctant to leave so early. To leave him so early? The question flashed quickly in her mind, and she shook her head slightly to get rid of it. “Come with me. I have something for you.” The tall man said and she obeyed without question. He led her to one of the small meeting rooms, which she guessed by the pillows scattered around in a circle. Stilgar sat down and patted the pillow on his right, silently telling her to sit next to him. She did as she was asked. “I want you to have this.” Stilgar said as he reached inside one of his pockets and put its content into her palm. Their skin made contact for a brief second and she felt her heart jump. “What is it?” She asked looking over a small steel brooch. “Na ryat.” He said. “It means a fig in your language. For Fremen it is a symbol of prosperity, of blessing. The actual fruit used to be offered to guests as a sign of friendship.” He explained while looking her in the eyes. “I hope it will apply to all your people, but I want you to have it.” She tried to keep the eye contact, but her eyes often wandered to the small gift she’d just received. “I don’t know what to say, Stilgar. I cannot tell you how much this means to me.” She said quietly and bowed her head in gratitude as she would in front of a noble, holding the gift close to her heart. He returned the gesture, still looking at her. Was his expression fond? “That’s why you keep calling me that - ryat?” She asked with a light smile. “My people do not trust outsiders. Especially those from noble houses, who come to us offering water. It smells of something more than a simple offering of good intentions. It smells of further plans, and I am sure you and Duncan Idaho know that as well.” Stilgar explained. She nodded, knowing that her duke surely had a certain strategy in mind. Before she could speak, Stilgar continued. “Yet you had managed to get your way. The children follow you around, women started smiling at you, you’ve even managed to make Chani smile, and that is no small feat.” Stilgar said and she couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “And what about you, Stilgar? Am I your akshaaha?” she asked and her eyes met his again, her heart beating fast. “Aywa.” He said with a light sigh. She let out a breath. “It will hurt my heart to see you go so soon.” He said quietly and reached one of his large hands to gently caress his fingers over the scar he had given her. Her face flushed red, but she gently clasped his hand in her own palm, prolonging the touch. “I’m sure we will see each other again, Stilgar.” She said quietly, not letting go. The warmth that radiated from him was almost intoxicating. He hummed in agreement.
Seeing him again, inside the palace, seemed almost surreal. Even though his rugged looks didn’t seem to belong to the place, the way he spoke assured everyone that his confidence did not falter before the duke. (Y/n) nodded at him in greetings, but she wasn’t sure he would reciprocate the gesture. To her surprise Stilgar nodded at her in return. His eyes resting on the small brooch on her chest for a second. Duncan looked at her in surprise. Not even he was worthy of the Naib’s greeting.
“What was that about?” Duncan asked as soon as they were dismissed from the great hall. “What do you mean?” She asked, looking up at the soldier. “What do I mean? I mean the fact that you were the only person in the room that Stilgar acknowledged more than was absolutely necessary.” He said. She remained quiet, unsure herself, absentmindedly touching the brooch. “And that’s another thing. I’ve seen you wearing that all the time since we returned from the sietch.” He pressed on. She sighed, not really in annoyance, but simply because she felt that the last evening in the sietch was strangely intimate to her. “Stilgar gifted me this before we left the sietch, as a sign of friendship, as hope for future prosperity among our people.” She explained shortly. “Shouldn’t he gift that to the Duke himself if he’s concerned about the people, as you say?” Duncan grinned at her mischievously. “Well,…” She wanted to give some sort of an answer that would seem rational and noble, but Duncan spoke over her. “Well…” He echoed. “I think you’ve awoken certain affections in the Naib.” He laughed.
...
The scene repeated itself almost perfectly. His blade at her pulse point. The moment Stilgar noticed the blue eyes looking up at him, less in fear, but rather in sadness and hope, he immediately pulled the knife away, pulling down the cloth that concealed her face. “You are alive.” He said quietly in Chakobsa, as if he didn’t believe it himself. She only nodded, unable to say anything. Everything had happened too fast, and she still had no idea how she managed to escape the palace.
“This woman is under my protection, as was promised before her last departure.” Stilgar said to his group of fighters who were starting to get unruly, arguing about her, Paul’s, and lady Jessica’s fates. Apparently, your lady’s status meant nothing here, and the fact she was considered a witch didn’t help her case. (Y/n) tried to protest, seeing that Paul would take his mother’s place in the fight. Stilgar looked at her as if what was happening was absolutely normal. “I promised you would be welcome at the sietch. I did not promise that to them.” Stilgar said pointing at your lady and her son. He trusted her, not her people. Not her lady and her son. Understandable. She meant nothing to the Harkkonens, to their plans, she didn’t mean that much to anyone, therefore she wasn’t a threat. But those two on the other hand... “I ought to stand in her place. I’m just a…” she started speaking in Chakobsa, but Stilgar interrupted her. “You are under my protection. Unless you want me to fight my own men, do as you’re told.” Stilgar said sharply, clearly on edge from the whole situation. She took a step back, bowing her head down in submission. She was used to that – doing what she was told. She had been basically a servant for most of her life. But despite the circumstances and the seriousness of the whole situation, not to mention that Stilgar thought about her safety, it still stung a little. Once again, she felt like a commoner surrounded by nobles. A Naib was as much a noble as one on Arrakis could be.
The first few days in the sietch were horrible. It was nothing like before, when she had visited the Fremen with Duncan. The Fremen felt uneasy with their presence. The rumours of Paul being the Lisan-al-Ghaib were heard more often. Lady Jessica didn’t seem to need her most of the time. “Things change.” The lady simply said to her. After a month, she felt like a burden. Most people recognized her face from before, but now looked at her with distrust. As if it was her fault the Harkkonens returned with a vengeance. The only reason, her body’s water hadn’t been collected yet, was because of Stilgar’s firm decision that she was under his protection. Her lady was about to become the reverend mother and Paul was considered valuable enough to keep around and train. But her? She often wandered around the sietch, trying to find a place she wouldn’t be seen as a monster. This night her feet dragged her towards the meeting place, where Stilgar gifted her the brooch. The brooch she still wore under her stillsuit, and at this moment on her tunic. She rarely saw the man during the last couple of weeks, as the Harkonnens were still trying to find and attack anything that moved in the vicinity of the spice fields and Stilgar was needed outside the sietch. But every time their paths met, Stilgar made sure to greet her, sometimes with a simple bow or nod, other times with a squeeze of her shoulder. She peeked inside the space, and upon seeing it empty, she walked in, sitting in the furthest corner from the entrance. She wouldn’t cry. No, she ordered herself. No, you are in a Fremen sietch. You cannot cry. No matter how much you want to. That would seal your fate as a waste of water. So, she just sat there, trying to release her emotions in a different way than crying. Breathing usually helped, but before she could concentrate on her inhales and exhales, she heard footsteps nearing the entrance of the room.
She thought the footsteps sounded familiar. The person entered and seemed startled by her presence. Before she could say anything or get up and leave, the person spoke. “Ryat. What are you doing here?” Stilgar’s voice was quiet, maybe a little tired. Upon hearing his voice, she immediately touched the spot where her brooch was fastened to the cloth. She bowed her head down. “I’m sorry, Stilgar, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She said in an apological voice. He wore a simple tunic, as was usual when one’s stillsuit was being cleaned and the person needed some fresh air and rest. “I’m just surprised to see you here this late. I thought you would be asleep by now.” He said. She realized she must have stayed in the room for much longer than she realized. “I suppose I just lost track of time.” She said, faking a small smile. “But I’m glad to see you’ve returned.” She added in Chakobsa, looking up at him. He smiled. “We haven’t lost a single fighter this time. It was a good run.” He said looking up for a second, as if thanking some higher power for their survival. Then he looked back at her and his smile faded slightly. “That’s wonderful news, Stilgar.” She said, her faux smile still plastered on her face. “What is that face?” Stilgar asked suddenly, coming closer to her and getting down on his knees, to see her expression better. She looked at him, raising her brows in question. “I know your smile. This is not it.” He said, looking her over. She couldn’t hold his intense stare, and bowed her head down. He immediately hooked his finger under her chin bringing her head up again. Her head was swimming. It was such an intimate gesture, so soft, full of worry.
She fought her hardest not to cry. She couldn’t, absolutely not in front of him. “Ryat, has something happened?” He asked, his voice worried. “No, no.” She said quickly, but sighed. If she couldn’t talk to Stilgar, who would she talk to here? “It’s just everything that had happened is catching up with me, I suppose. I’ve never seen so much death and destruction in my whole life. If it wasn’t for Duncan, I’d be among the hundreds of corpses littering the palace.” She said, noticing how Stilgar winced at her words. “Lady Jessica doesn’t need me anymore, and she’s changed, I can see it, I can feel it… And I feel like a traitor among the same people I felt so comfortable with before. And I cannot even blame them for the distrustful and angry looks they throw my way.” Her voice trembled, but she still managed to hold her tears back. Stilgar looked at the ground for a moment, and she knew he knew. He knew all of it, he was the Naib, he could see the way his people behaved, and just like her, he knew he couldn’t really blame them. “I feel so alone.” She said quietly after a while. “I feel like a waste of water.” She said in Chakobsa and suddenly saw Stilgar’s eyes go wide. It was an insult to call someone that, not to mention saying it about oneself. “No, no, no. Ryat, my dear (Y/n), you’re not a waste. You’ve shown my people there are outsiders who keep our wellbeing close to their heart, who care. What happened after is not your fault. They know it, but it’s easy to blame those who remain.” Stilgar spoke softly but urgently, trying to persuade her of his words. Hearing him say her real name for what felt like the first time, sent shivers down her spine. “And you’re not alone.” He said in Chakobsa after a second, once again cradling her face in one of his palms. She kept looking him in the eye, closing her own only for a second to melt into his touch. “I just want to be useful, Stilgar. I’m here for you, for your people and I’ll do anything to prove that.” She said, looking him in the eye, while his hand still remained on her cheek. “Join us tomorrow morning. Me and Paul. Your young master says you are a skilled fighter, that you were also trained by your house’s warmaster.” Stilgar said, withdrawing his hand from her face only to grasp one of her hands. His touch was so pleasantly warm. “You would train me?” She asked, surprised. “It would be my honour.” He said with a hint of a smile. She smiled at him in return, glad for the opportunity to prove her worth. Gurney Halleck did train her, as she was one of lady Jessica’s closest maids, it was required to be skilled in combat, no matter the fact the lady could take most offenders singlehandedly on her own.
“That is your smile.” He said, content to see her less stressed. She felt herself blush at his words. “Your eyes are already tinted by the spice; you now look like one of us.” He said leaning a little closer. Her heart started beating erratically, and she watched his every move. “My people will soon realize that you are one of us.” He was so close when he said those words. “I tied my fate with your people the moment I stepped into the sietch all those moons ago.” She whispered, watching the Naib intently. It felt he was still leaning closer to her. The last time she saw the blue of his eyes this close, he held a knife to her throat. She could stare into his eyes forever, she could easily get lost in them, drown in them. “And I tied mine with yours when I gifted you the brooch.” He said and she could feel his breath on her skin. He was so close to her. Her heart was pounding as if it was trying to find a way out of her chest. The smell of sweetened spice and one of those aromatic oils the Fremen used, dulled everything else around her. “Stilgar… I…” She wanted to say something to such a confession, but before she could, he leaned even closer, closing the gap between them. His lips gently landed on hers and as she let out a soft, satisfied sigh, Stilgar grabbed her by her waist, pulling her closer to him. She felt herself getting lost in his taste and deepened the kiss, letting her hands wander to his messy hair. Stilgar groaned at that. Her whole upper body was now pressed against his kneeling form and Stilgar’s hands started to wander around her body, which earned him a soft moan escaping from her throat. Both of them would probably continue, but they knew how inappropriate it would be to get caught like this – they were still in a common space, anyone could walk by – and they parted ways, but only slightly, they could still feel each other’s breath on their faces. She opened her eyes and continued to stare into his. He let out a shaky breath and caressed her hair. “So beautiful…” He whispered and swiped his thumb across her cheek gently. “I am not asking anything from you, my dear (Y/n).” He said, looking down at the ground, as if he was suddenly unsure of his actions. “But you have bewitched me like no woman before, and I couldn’t go any longer without you knowing that.” He confessed quietly. She put both of her hands on his cheeks, lifted up his head, so he was looking at her properly again. “Stilgar, there hasn’t been anyone else than you on my mind these past months.” She said with a smile and felt herself blush. “And I will be happily yours if that’s what you wish from this.”
Chakobsa translations:
Suhl – peace
Shukran – thank you
Ryat – a fig
Akshaaha – friend
Aywa - yes