summary: Feyd can no longer live with only a portion of his wife and strives to find who she truly is || word count: 948 || masterlist
once again, I have been peer pressured (someone very politely requested) and I am being forced (I wrote this in a peak of artistic inspiration) to publish a third part to voiceless and articulate. Enjoy!
REQUESTED: I've read all your Feyd stories and I love them! Would you please consider doing a continuation of "Articulate" where Feyd is so desperate to win over his wife that he asks her new friends for advice? Thank you.
Ever since you’d postponed your day with him, Feyd had been unable to think of anything else. He couldn’t imagine what else you spent your days doing, what was more important to you than him. As he began craving your presence, he noticed just how much time you spent out of your chambers, elsewhere.
He approached you one evening when you were getting ready for bed. “Y/N?” He stopped calling you ‘Wife’ when he noticed the subtle flinch that accompanied its use. “Where do you spend your days? You always return with such happiness.” He meant nothing by it, a simple observation that you always glowed a little brighter afterwards.
You hesitated before answering, hearing horror stories of what Feyd has done to servants. “I- My handmaiden and some of the other maids, they spend their days teaching me things about our house, about Geidi Prime. I enjoy their company.” You admitted.
Feyd frowned. “Your handmaiden? You’ve been hiding away with your handmaiden all this time?”
“Do not speak of her with such disdain! She is my friend. You will do her no harm or I will never forgive you.”
“What?”
You mistook his confusion for insult. “You heard me-“
“You misunderstand, my love.” That title was a new one. “I am simply surprised. I worried you had filled your time with another lover. That I would not be so kind towards.”
The endearment that slipped from his lips did not escape unnoticed by you and you felt your heart fluttering slightly within your chest. The careless and childish hopes from the beginning on your marriage had the nerve to peek their heads towards daylight and it took all your might to push them back down. He was just a possessive man, claiming what was already his. He could not love you, not the way you wanted him to.
“Oh. No! I would never- I would never take a lover Feyd. I am not a traitor.”
“I- I was not trying to imply-“ It was the first time you had ever heard Feyd be uncertain in anything, stumbling over his words.
He reached out to you and you let him slip your hand into his. His body was mere inches from yours as he stood silently, staring down at you.
“I’m sorry.” It was a murmur of an apology you never thought he was even capable of. “Please tell your handmaiden… thank you from me, for taking care of you.”
Your eyes soften as you take a small step so you’re truly in each other’s space. “I shall pass along your message. Goodnight husband.” There’s a softness behind your words that Feyd hasn’t heard in a while and he’s very grateful for its return.
In the days following your discussion, you and Feyd had minimised some of the distance between you, but not all. There was space Feyd couldn’t cross alone, no matter how much he wanted to. He needed help, aid from someone who knew you far better than he did.
Reluctantly, Feyd made his way down to the servants quarters. He stops silently outside the door, suddenly nervous to enter.
He knocked and your handmaiden opened the door, paling at the sight of the Na-Baron. “My Lord Feyd.” She bowed before him, slipping out into the hallway. “How can I assist you?” Despite your assurance that your husband would never hurt her, your handmaiden still had fear when stood in front of Feyd.
Feyd seemed unsure of himself now that he was stood in front of someone about to ask for their help. “I wish to help my wife.”
“Is the Na-Baroness unwell?”
“She is fine.” Feyd said shortly. “But our marriage…” He does not wish to continue and your handmaiden knows it.
Slyly, she looks him up and down with a knowing look. “It’s called love. She feels it too.”
“She-“ Feyd stopped himself. “She loves me?”
“And you love her. She’s just hesitant to give you all of herself.”
He took a moment to breathe, his head spinning from the realisation that his wife loved him. “I love her…”
“Then tell her that.” Your handmaiden pressed. “Tell her she is loved.”
Heeding your handmaiden’s words, Feyd approached the evening much differently than he normally would. He greeted you as he entered your chambers, a small smile across his face as he offered to help you change and you, surprised, allowed him to.
He couldn’t stop the giddy feeling his heart had when you leant into him as he pulled the pins from your hair. You let yourself lean in, praying that life had finally dealt you the perfect hand.
Beyond either os your notices, you handmaiden had slipped into your chambers, aiming to help you get ready for the evening. But upon seeing your gentle embrace with Feyd, a knowing smile spread across her lips and she turned on her heel to slip back out again. Her shoe brushed against the floor for just a second and you glanced up at her.
Silently, a conversation passes. A frown, a smile, a nod. A look towards Feyd, a glance you made in his direction. He’s aware of all that is going but blissfully choosing to ignore it, his eyes almost slipping shut as he runs his hand down your back and letting it settle at your waist.
No words are exchanged as the evening progresses, but the light touches continue and you never find yourself out of Feyd’s space for more than a second. It isn’t until you’re in bed and wrapped in his arms that you speak.
“Goodnight my love.”
Feyd smiles against you and murmurs the same sentiment back, finally slipping into sleep.
Rather than doing anything, the characters talk in language which is so beautiful that it is difficult to resist. The words create an imaginary landscape of perfection, a soft dream of warm evenings with chuckling streams and dappled sunlight playing through the leaves of a forest.
