After generations of pillaging and destroying their ecosystem, you are assigned by the Emperor to work on with the Harkonnens to improve their planetâs agriculture as Imperial Ecologist. However, Giedi Prime is far from welcoming, and you must fight to survive the horrors you endure at the hands of the Harkonnens. When you catch the eye of the Baronâs youngest nephew, and most prized possession, you step into a world complicated by politics and revenge.
Tags: Unbeta'd, AFAB Reader, multiple OCs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, enemy to friends to lovers/enemy lovers, slow burn, fake science, blood, violence, gore, body horror, cannibalism, uncle/nephew incest (implied), eventual smut, etc.
A/N: Iâve never read the books, so this is a combination of the Villeneuve films, the Dune Wiki, and a heavy dose of just making shit up lol. I try my best to make Reader as nondescript as possible, but there are mentions of having periods and body hair in later chapters. As a warning up front, this will not have a Happily Ever After ending, but maybe more like Happy For Now?
Please mind the tags; this is very dark, but that comes with the territory.
Chapter One: Like Meat (Spoiled)
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When you first arrived at Giedi Prime, nothing could have adequately prepared you for the shock the harsh environment brought.Â
Approaching the planet, dark, heavy clouds of pollution choked its atmosphere, seen even from your descent into the atmosphere. Any hope youâd had on your mission here began to wither as you saw the goliath manufacturing plants and landfills that scarred the horizon on all sides. Even the advanced Sardakaur technology on this ship couldnât soften the harsh winds. Could this be the reason why they accepted youâ a last-ditch effort to salvage whatever was left of this godforsaken planetâŠ?
When you landed, you rose unsteadily to your feet and grabbed your luggage. Two large bags and one satchel tied at your waist. The rest unloaded off the ship, full of your tools and plants. Your entire life packed away, always ready for the next move. An escort accompanied you off ship, the rest staying inside. Not that you would blame them; if it was not required of you, you would not leave, either.
warning: Harkonnens are are their own warning, reader is from house Ginaz, possessive behaviour, kissing, fluff, knife use, blood, no use of Y/n
Summary: With the marriage plan, the ceremonies on both their home planets were a necessity. What was a joyful gathering with entertainment and tradition on her home planet of Ginaz seemed a completely different affair when she arrived on Giedi Prime to become one with her husbandâs house.
Word count: 1759
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The formation of an alliance through marriage was something that had always happened.
Two powerful houses, a marriage, an alliance that secured bloodlines in exchange for power and alliances.
That was all there was to it, yet the fact that it was the House of Harkonnen had unsettled her upon receiving the news.
A powerful house, with influence and connections; a house whose members were full of treachery and sinister strategies.
Yet a house that also had an heir, unmarried and eligible for marriage: the Baronâs nephew â Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.
A marriage she could not refuse; not with the power that came with it, she could not ignore her fatherâs command.
âThe Harkonnens have strength, their own honourâŠeven someone like Feyd will look after youâ Her motherâs words on the evening she had learnt of the marriage offered little comfort.
Feyd was feared, deadly, a formidable fighter against whom she had no defence.
âI pray I do not live long enough to witness his betrayalâ she replied, her words tinged with mistrust and hurt, knowing that as the sole child and the hope of her house, marriage was her only option.
Yet the gentle touch of her mother, who held her hand, offered no relief; the look in her fatherâs eyes - perhaps something like an apology - remained, yet he remained stubborn.
A wedding ceremony was soon to take place on Ginaz.
Ginaz, her home planet, was covered almost entirely by water, a calm, open expanse of blue that could sometimes become turbulent, dotted with small yet numerous landmasses.
A home she loved, having known nothing else until the Harkonnen spaceships landed on the largest expanse.
She could see him from afar; the Baron was hard to miss in his dark robes, which barely concealed his massive frame, not hovering above them but high enough to appear imposing.
âBaron, it is a delight to welcome you to Ginazâ her father greeted the bald man; both made a slight bow.
âLikewise, Duke. If I may say so, your daughter will make an excellent bride for my nephewâ the smile he offered them rather unsettled her; there was a certain familiarity in it, yet just as much of the unknown and his own plans.
The Baron stepped aside slightly, revealing a young man of imposing stature, equally pale, hairless, younger, yet strong.
âMy nephew, Feyd Rautha, your husbandâ he introduced, and the two approached each other; just a few steps separated them as they stood face to face, her curtsy meeting his bow.
âI look forward to a shared futureâ her words rehearsed, everything meticulously prepared, from her dress to her jewellery.
His hand, resting upon hers, was surprisingly warm; she had imagined him to be cold.
His grip was firm as his dark eyes seemed to study her, âOur future, my wifeâ Feyd said.
A shiver ran through her body as he kissed the back of her hand - a gesture unbecoming of someone of his reputation - just as the two families began to move.
Yet Feyd did not let go of her hand; he seemed to want to keep her close as his gaze kept returning to her.
A gaze she could not resist.
A touch she had to return as they stood before the statues of their ancestors at the start of the ceremony, her heart full of excitement as the ancient words came over her lips - words Feyd did not understand as he continued to look at her.
âThis fabric symbolises the union of our houses and heartsâ an explanation that made him understand as the fabric, woven from fine gold and silver threads, was draped over both their hands.
His grip had not loosened; his gaze remained tense as he observed her and their surroundings whilst the relatives watched as the two knelt before the statues, asking their ancestors for permission.
âI will look after and protect my wife with everything I haveâ he repeated the words, insignificant to a man like him, sounding strange as they rose and kissed each other.
A kiss in which she felt the twitch of his fingers, the suppression of a reflex as if he wanted to pull her closer, closer to him, never letting her go.
A hold she would actually have returned, his warmth almost pleasant as she was seemingly shown the gentler side of the warrior.
Afterwards, the satisfied clapping of her and his family rang out as one part of the wedding was completed.
The celebration was a welcome change, with food, drink and conversation; family and relatives congratulating them, caring for them, hours in which nothing but contentment reignedâŠyet Feyds gaze still rested on her.
On the bride.
The other part would take place in his homeland, their new home, and for a moment she had forgotten that he was a Harkonnen, that she had to go to Giedi Prime.
For a moment she had let herself be captivated by him, for a moment she had felt affection for him.
To love Feyd.
~~~~~~~~~~
His home, the Baronâs planet, Giedi Prime, was everything Ginaz was not.
Dark, indifferent to the weak, barren, full of metal, death and oppression.
The light was so bright it seemed unnatural; blackness all around and everywhere, and nowhere could she find even a glimpse of nature that resembled her familiar home.
Alone without her parents, and with part of the wedding already over, she would have had to settle into life on Giedi Prime soon enough; the Baron had insisted she come alone.
Yet with a wedding of such influence, her father would never have said no.
The first thing she noticed was how cold Giedi Prime was - not an icy cold, nor a frosty one, but a shadowy chill as she stepped out of the shuttle.
White and black, shadows, it was all somewhat peculiar as she saw the small group on the landing dock.
Feyd was already waiting for her when he held out his hand for her to take.
âWelcome to Giedi Prime, wifeâ his greeting was brief, his smile narrow as he walked with her across the landing dock into the interior of the grand palace building.
âYour planet does justice to your house, no place for the unworthyâ her words seemed to amuse him, at least, as he tilted his head for a moment as though he had never regarded his planet as dangerous.
The small groupâs footsteps echoed through the high corridors; his dark fabric, his clothing, stood in contrast to her white.
It seemed a stroke of bad luck to meet an innocent as they both entered a large hall; the great door closed behind them as they appeared to have reached the dining room.
At least, that is what it seemed, for there on the long table lay all manner of dishes, and at the head sat the Baron.
He was already awaiting his nephew and his wife.
âWelcome, my dears, please do take a seat; the ceremony is about to beginâ his inviting gesture caused the fabric draped over his body to shift slightly as Feyd let go of her for the first time when they both sat down.
The plate before her was empty; the food on the table was expensive, imported goods, a fortuneâs worth of which the Baron was helping himself to generously.
Feyd, on the other hand, reached for a piece of fruit; she watched him open his mouth, his black teeth biting into the soft flesh, sweet juice coating his lips and now dripping down his chin.
âOh, forgive me, your meal will be here any moment; it is prepared for every Harkonnen brideâ the Baron said, gesturing towards her empty plate, aware of her reserve regarding the various traditions she had been trying to learn.
She was the newest member of the Harkonnen family; she was Feydâs and he was hersâŠyet how much connection did she truly have to her new kin?
Moments later, the large double doors opened and a servant entered, wordlessly holding a small, finely crafted plate in his hands, upon which her meal was laid out and placed before her.
âIt is meant to nourish your body, bring you security and strengthen our bondâ Feyd explained, suddenly rising as she looked at the food before her; nausea washed over her.
A faint dizziness as she could make out the heart, despite the preparation, surrounded by dark fruits and white petals.
Trying to suppress the slight tremor as she took the cutlery in her hands, she flinched as Feydâs hand glided over hers.
âI know youâll enjoy it, my dearâ he almost chuckled, black teeth flashing as he took the knife from her hand.
She watched, clinging to the table, not allowed to say a word, watching as her husband walked over to the servant and, without hesitation, drew the sharp knife across the innocent manâs throat, hard and deep enough to cause profuse bleeding.
The Baron watched, amused, as Feyds caught as much blood as he could with his hand before her husband turned back to her âThank you for the sacrificeâ her words came out completely beside herself.
What else could she have said as Feydsâs blackened eyes were visibly agitated by the murder, whilst the gurgling, wretched sounds of the near-dead man were the only thing filling the room.
Blood, thick and dark red, which Feyds let drip down onto her food.
Her meal was laid out, ready, as her husband watched her; the blood on the knife, her hand stained with it, as she began to cut the meat.
The knife was sharp, easily splitting the heart; as she picked up a piece with her fork, Feydâs gaze lingered on her lips as she took the meat and blood into her mouth.
A metallic taste mingled with rich meat in her mouth...it tasted good.
Only when she had swallowed the bite and put down her cutlery did Feydâs fingers touch her lips; the blood smeared cold and sticky across her lips as she clung lightly to him.
âBlood of my blood, part of the Harkonnen House, you are mineâ he told her, there was a excitement in his black eyes as she began the kiss; the blood now covered his lips too.
She gripped Feyd more tightly; now that they belonged to each other, she would never let him go.
The two of them would belong to each other in blood for eternity.
Pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader
Summary: Feyd-Rautha recieved a defiant slave as a gift. Furious at being sold by her own House to settle debts, she fights him with every breath, battling against the unwanted pleasure he forces from her body.
Warnings: 18+, non-con/dub con, dubious consent, power imbalance, violence, breeding kink, explicit sexual content, smut.
Word Count: 2.7k
Note: Okay so I used to write a lot back in the day, but life and depression got in the way âïžso this is me trying again cause I have so much smut rolling around my head. Be gentle with me I havenât posted before đ Written with my irl best friend who I pay in coffee & biscuits. I bring the ideas and she makes them make sense. Blame both of us, weâre equally unwell.
The black sun of Giedi Prime hung above the arena spires, its filtered light bleeding through the narrow observation slits of the na-Baronâs private wing. The air in the citadel always carried that metallic bite of oil, blood and the low constant thrum of machinery grinding beneath the stone floors. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had just returned from the arena, still streaked with the sweat and faint crimson of victory when the delegation from the minor House arrived. A political courtesy call, they called it. Trade concessions wrapped in hollow smiles and gifts meant to curry favor with the rising na-Baron.
She stood at the edge of the advisers, wrists bound in thin alloy cuffs, dark fabric of her slave tunic clinging to her body from the journey. No name was given when the delegationâs lord offered her up as none was needed. She was not born into servitude. She had been handed over only weeks earlier as living collateral. Her minor House, already strained by failed quotas to the Harkonnen war machine, had defaulted one final time. Rather than face the Baronâs enforcers seizing their holdings or their sons for the arenas, they had offered her instead. A freeborn daughter of their bloodline, reduced to currency to balance the ledger. The fury of that humiliation still burned in her eyes. She did not carry herself like an obedient slave. She stood with the rigid posture of someone who had once walked halls of minor nobility, chin high even now, every line of her body screaming refusal.
Feyd noticed her immediately, not merely as another gift but because of the fight.
While his advisors droned through the formalities of the trade agreement, one of the delegationâs handlers, a thick-necked man  leaned in close to her ear. His breath was hot and sour as he whispered something lewd, fingers grazing the curve of her waist through the thin tunic in a testing grope, as if sampling the merchandise before it was officially transferred. âThe na-Baron likes them feistyâ he murmured. âYouâll learn to spread those legs quick enough once he breaks you.â
She wrenched away with a violent twist, cuffs rattling, elbow driving hard into his ribs.
âTouch me again and Iâll rip your throat out with my teethâ she snarled, voice raw and unfiltered, loud enough that it cut through the advisorsâ words. The handler stumbled back, cursing and she glared at him with pure, unfiltered rage. No cowering, no submission, only the feral defiance of someone who had just been sold by her own blood and refused to accept the transaction.
Feydâs pale eyes locked on her across the chamber. Something feral sparked in him. Hunger. The kind that demanded conquest. Not the passive trembling of a broken slave but this fire, this refusal to submit. It made his blood run hotter than any arena kill.
The delegationâs lord laughed nervously when he caught the na-Baronâs stare, dabbing at his forehead with a silk square. âAs I said, she is yours if you want her, my lord na-Baron. A gift to settle our remaining obligations. Sheâs been nothing but disruption since we acquired her-bloodied two handlers on the journey, spat venom at every command. Perhaps your⊠methods⊠will break her where ours failed.â
She was trouble, they made that clear in their explanations. Unruly. Defiant. A slave who had already bloodied two handlers and spat venom at every command. But Feydâs pale eyes had lingered on the way she held her chin high despite the chains, the way her gaze flicked to his across the chamber like a challenge rather than submission.
Feydâs lips curved into that slow, predatory smile. âLeave her.â
The doors hissed shut behind the delegation. Guards dragged her forward until she stood alone in the center of his sparse obsidian chamber, the low crimson sconces painting her skin in harsh shadows. She was breathing hard, chest rising and falling beneath the simple tunic, eyes blazing with pure, unfiltered rage. No fear. Not yet.
Feyd circled her once, boots silent on the stone, still half-dressed from the arena, black trousers slung low, pale torso bare and glistening. His shaved head caught the light like polished bone. He stopped in front of her, close enough that the heat of his body brushed hers.
âOn your kneesâ he said, voice low and guttural, that distinctive Harkonnen rasp carving through the air like a blade.
She didnât move. Instead, she looked at him as if she could claw his eyes out with bound hands. âFuck youâ she snarled, the words raw and unfiltered. âIâm not your toy.â
He grabbed her wrists effortlessly, one large hand locking around both cuffs, yanking her forward until her body slammed against his chest. The impact drove the air from her lungs. His free hand fisted in her hair painfully, tilting her head back so she had no choice but to meet those dark-icey eyes.
âYou are nowâ he murmured, almost gentle, but the edge in his tone promised violence. âEvery inch of you. And youâll learn to beg for what I give you.â
She twisted, knee driving toward his groin. He twisted with her, using her own momentum to spin her around and shove her face-down onto the wide stone platform draped in black furs. The cuffs clattered against the edge as he pinned her there with his weight, one knee between her thighs, his chest pressed to her back. His breath was hot against her ear.
âFight me if you wishâ he whispered, almost amused. âIt only makes me want you more.â
She bucked beneath him, cursing, hips writhing in a way that only ground her ass against the growing hardness in his trousers. He laughed low in his throat, a dark hungry sound, and ripped her tunic open with one brutal tug. Fabric tore like paper, exposing her bare skin to the cool air. She was naked beneath it, as slaves often were for easy use and the sight of her like this, pinned, furious and fighting made his cock throb painfully against her.
âGet off me!â she hissed, thrashing harder.
He ignored her, one hand sliding down to cup her breast, thumb brushing the nipple until it tightened despite her rage. His fingers dipped between her thighs from behind. âYouâre already wetâ he observed, voice rough with satisfaction. âFighting me gets you soaked, doesnât it? Your body knows what your mouth wonât admit.â
She snarled and tried to twist again but he shoved her legs wider with his knee and pushed two thick fingers inside her without warning. The stretch was sudden, invasive and she gasped at the intrusion, walls clenching involuntarily around him. He pumped them slow and deep, curling just right, thumb finding her clit and circling with relentless precision.
âStop fighting itâ he growled against her neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. âFeel how your cunt grips me. Greedy little thing.â
She moaned despite herself, half fury and half unwilling pleasure and tried to buck him off again. It only drove his fingers deeper. Heat built in her core, traitorous but she refused to give in. When he added a third finger, stretching her wider, she cried out in pain and slammed her elbow back, catching him in the ribs. He grunted, more from surprise than pain, and yanked his hand free only to flip her onto her back in one fluid motion, hand firm around her neck as the other captured her bound hands in front of her.
Now she faced him, chest heaving, eyes wild. He stood between her spread thighs, letting go of her hands to lower his trousers enough so his cock sprang free heavy, thick, flushed dark at the tip and already leaking. The sight of it made her stomach tighten with a mix of fear and unwanted heat.
âYou think you can take control?â he asked, voice low and dangerous as he stroked himself once, twice. âTry it, then." He let go of himself to remove her hands roughly from the cuffs. "Show me what a slave thinks she can do to her master.â She lunged up the moment he released her wrists and he let her, curious as she shoved at his chest and twisted them, trying to push him down onto the furs. For a heartbeat she succeeded, straddling his hips, hand pressing down on his chest, the other gripping his neck tightly as if she could dominate from on top. Her hair fell around them like a curtain and she ground down against his cock, slick folds sliding along his length in a defiant tease.
âLike this?â she spat, rocking her hips with forced confidence. âYou want me to ride you like some obedient whore? Iâll make you beg first.â
Feydâs eyes darkened with something feral. His hands shot up, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise and in one powerful surge he flipped them again pinning her beneath him completely, wrists trapped again above her head in one of his large hands. His cock nudged her entrance, thick head parting her folds.
âNoâ he said simply, voice a rough command. âYou donât get to lead. Not here. Not ever.â
He thrust in, slow at first, but relentless inch by thick inch stretching her open. She was tight, resistant, and the burn made her cry out, back arching off the furs, her hands pushing at his shoulder. He didnât stop. He sank deeper, hips rolling forward until he bottomed out, balls pressed tight against her, buried to the hilt inside her clenching heat.
âFuck-too big-â she gasped, legs kicking uselessly.
âBreatheâ he ordered, forehead dropping to hers, eyes locked on hers with that obsessive intensity. âYouâre going to take every inch. Feel me stretching this tight cunt open? Thatâs me claiming whatâs mine now.â He stayed still for long seconds, letting her adjust, but his free hand slid between them to circle her clit with devastating slowness. âYouâre fighting it, but your body is milking me already. So wet. So fucking perfect.â
She tried to twist away again, cursing him but the drag of his cock and the relentless pressure on her clit sent sparks shooting through her nerves. Pleasure coiled low and unwilling in her belly. He began to move then, long deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive wall inside her. Each thrust ground his pelvis against her clit and no matter how she bucked or snarled, he held her pinned, dominating every movement.
âYouâre mineâ he rasped against her mouth, nipping her lower lip. âThis pussy is mine. Fight all you want, your cunt is sucking me deeper with every thrust. Good girl. Thatâs it⊠stop pretending you donât need this.â
The praise slipped through her defenses like oil on water. She hated it. She hated how it made her walls flutter around him. She tried one last time to seize control, wrapping her legs around his waist and attempting to roll them but he laughed darkly and hooked one of her knees over his elbow, folding her open wider. The new angle let him drive even deeper, the blunt head of his cock kissing her cervix with every powerful snap of his hips.
The wet slap of skin on skin filled the chamber, obscene and rhythmic. Her moans broke free despite her clenched teeth, raw unwilling sounds that only seemed to spur him on.
âCome for meâ he growled, voice thick with obsession. âI can feel you tightening. Donât fight it, love. Let it take you. Come on my cock like the good girl youâre going to be.â
She didnât want to. She fought the building wave with every ounce of defiance left in her, clenching her jaw, trying to think of anything but the thick drag of him inside her, the way his thumb never left her clit, the way his dark eyes bored into hers like he could see straight through to her soul. But the pleasure was relentless, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped.
Her orgasm crashed over her against her will, deep shattering, rolling through her in heavy waves that made her whole body seize. Her walls clamped down around him in rhythmic pulses, milking his cock as white-hot pleasure tore through every nerve. A raw cry tore from her throat, back arching violently off the furs. She came harder than she ever had, vision blurring, thighs trembling uncontrollably around him.
Feyd snarled in triumph, hips stuttering. âYes-fuck, thatâs my good girl. Look at you coming for me even while you hate it. So beautiful when you submit.â
He fucked her through every aftershock, never slowing, drawing it out until she was whimpering, oversensitive and still clenching helplessly. Only when the last tremor faded did he pull out slowly, watching with dark fascination as his cock glistened with her release and a trickle of her arousal leaked from her swollen entrance.
He flipped her onto her stomach before she could catch her breath, yanking her hips up until she was on her knees, chest pressed to the furs. She tried to crawl away, still defiant but he gripped her hips in an iron hold and mounted her from behind in one brutal thrust. The position suited his dominance perfectly, he could pin her completely, body curving over hers, teeth grazing her shoulder as he drove into her soaked pussy.
âAgainâ he growled against her ear, voice wrecked with lust and possession. âYouâre going to come one more time while I fuck you like the unruly little slave you were. And this time youâll say my title when you do.â
She tried to push back against him, to fight the angle that let him hit so deep but he only slammed forward harder, one hand sliding beneath her to circle her clit again while the other fisted in her hair, tugging her head back so he could bite at her neck. His thrusts were powerful, punishing, the wet slap of his hips against her ass echoing obscenely. Every stroke dragged his thick cock along that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes.
âYou feel that?â he rasped, never stopping. âMy cock owning this cunt. You fought me, you tried to take control, and look at you now, dripping down my balls, clenching like youâll die if I stop. Say it. Say youâre mine.â
She bit her lip bloody trying not to but the pleasure was building again, faster this time, the angle forcing him impossibly deeper. âI-fuck-you-â
He reached down and pushed two fingers alongside his cock, stretching her even fuller and the added fullness and burn broke her completely. The second orgasm ripped through her without mercy, deeper, longer, a blinding wave that made her sob into the furs as her walls spasmed violently around him. âMy lord-na-Baron-please-â
The submission in her voice undid him. Feyd roared, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard, flooding her with thick, hot pulses of his seed. She felt every spurt, every twitch deep inside, marking her from within. He stayed buried while they both shuddered through it, his chest pressed to her back, arms caging her completely.
When he finally pulled out, a heavy trickle of his cum leaked from her well-fucked pussy. He gathered it on three fingers and pushed it back inside her slowly, curling them to keep every drop deep where it belonged, stroking her fluttering walls until she whimpered from overstimulation.
âMineâ he murmured, voice low and satisfied as he collapsed beside her, pulling her limp body against his chest despite her weak attempt to shove him away. His hand stroked down her spine, possessive and almost tender now. âYou fought beautifully. But youâre broken for me now. And youâll come to crave it.â
She lay there, breath ragged, body still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure she hadnât wanted to feel. The citadelâs machinery hummed around them like a heartbeat. Defiance still flickered in her eyes, but it was quieter now, tempered by the heavy weight of his arm around her waist and the undeniable truth that he had won.
Outside, the black sun rose higher over Giedi Prime. Inside the obsidian chamber, the unruly slave had met her new master and in his arms, fighting had only led to the sweetest surrender.
9 snappy bits from your hand, each framed around the 9 delicious cliches mentioned below selected by Spicyreadsandcosyblankets
Grab the cliche from the pics below and add it to your post
Post with the speed that works for you.
Make it into 1 big story with 9 chapters, or 9 one-shots.
Interpret these cliches freely (is she wearing his t-shirt, or is she wielding his blade?)
Situate the fics around our desirable lord na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen
Add a link to this post for others to join as well
Join us in this challenge - let us know by replying to this post & tagging @psycheetamore and @houserautha. Or tag your favourite authors in the comments
The cliches (summarised - full cliches below):
1 He is a villain with backstory & razorsharp jawline
2 They are enemies, yet he has a nickname for her
3 He growled: who did this to you?
4 She gets wasted, and he takes care of her
5 He backed her up against the wall and leaned in...
6 He said 'fuck it' before kissing her
7 Only 1 bed while arriving at the inn - oooh noooo
8 She ends up wearing his t-shirt
9 Talked mind to mind
Keeping the Feyd-Rautha Fandom Alive - one post at the time!
Someone help me here đ€â€ïž Have read Cast from the shade ch. 2. Feyd and Zephyr have an incredible chemistry! When he pushes her to the wall, I want it so bad that someone continues with 5th and 6th clishe. And I wish it's like - he leans in while he backs her up the wall, his body already against hers. She can't resist anymore and looks at his lips involuntarily, and that's where I wish for something really steamy to happen before he says 'Fuck it' and kisses her...
warning: Feyd is his own warning, blood/injury, comfort, kissing, mutual feelings, possesive behavior, no use of Y/n
Summary: Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, cunning warrior, a sword of pain...her betrothed. To honor the alliance, he takes to the arena once more but is injured. How does someone like Feyd react when he receives care instead of pain and death for the first time?
Word count: 1593
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The black sun, dark, endless shadows that gave way only to the bright white light.
When she first landed on Giedi Prime, it was like a dream; she thought she was still asleep, but when she saw the Harkonnens - the Baron and his nephews - and heard a voice so commanding and harsh that it sounded sweet and rotten to her, it became clear to her that it was no dream.
Giedi Prime was real, just as real as her impending marriage.
An alliance with the Harkonnens, who had grown rich through spice mining and her house.
In return, her father would provide ships and planets.
Good blood would result from the marriage...though there was still at least some time left.
Now she was here, on the tribune, white stone beneath the sun, the servants stark, pale white, her dress holding firm as she took her place as guest and, at the same time, of honor - as future wife and baroness at Feydâs side.
âWill he accept me?â her question went unanswered; trained in the ways of the Sisterhood as the heir to her house.
She was certain of her dutyâŠyet her inner devotion to caring for others had led her to see him as the ideal match - supposedly - or the psychotic warrior.
But how did such bloodlust fit with something so carefully cautious?
Looking through her binoculars at the corpulent Baron, she saw, even from a distance, his smug expression.
âA duel in honor of the betrothal of our Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!â the announcement sent the spectators into a frenzy as, mere moments later, a figure stepped into the center of the arena.
Turning her gaze downward, she saw him, not for the first time, but now she could see his body: pale, almost white-gray muscles of strength, dark teeth as pitch-black as the eyes that scanned the crowd.
For a moment, he looked at his uncle, raised his dagger in a gesture of promise for a good fight before Feyd looked up at their box.
The bald man did not raise his sword; he stared at her with that amused, chaotic gaze, his tongue licking his lips - a pale thing between black teeth - before the gates opened and the fighters entered.
âEven a wild spirit seeks peace at some pointâ she muttered.
The older woman didnât spare her a glance; instead, she looked down as the fight began.
Three men from one house, muscular, dangerousâŠat least before they were incapacitated by drugs or so it seemed.
She knew the Harkonnen customs and practices, yet even Feyd had immediately recognized what his uncle had done. Instead of stepping back, however, he merely laughed.
âLook, woman, what Iâm doing for the alliance!â he shouted, ramming his dagger almost effortlessly into the stomach and chest of one of the men, quickly and slowly, so that the shields could be pierced.
He skillfully dodged the next manâs attack, rolled to the side, and swept the manâs legs out from under him.
As they wrestled back and forth on the ground, she moved forward slightly to see more - only to see Feyd, not the fight.
The one who was killing for her.
He leaped away from his attacker; blood had splattered lightly on him as heâd slit the manâs throat.
Cheers and shouts encouraged him, calling his name as only one attacker remained.
He made a mistake; he seemed to want to dodge when he noticed the last one, only to be kicked from behind, another roll, another dodge, Feyd stabbed the man, catching him in the leg.
The last one didnât seem to give up; he swung at Feyd himself, had grabbed the na-Baron by the collar, the Harkonnen couldnât break free and even as Feyd stabbed his attacker in the heart, the attackerâs dagger landed in his side, piercing the white skin.
Causing the young warrior to bleed and let out a screaming laugh as he victoriously pushed his opponent away.
âA glorious alliance in blood and death!â he shouted, not at her, but at the crowd as he let himself be celebrated; the Baron seemed satisfied.
She herself, in that moment of pain, had risen from her seat and clung to the stone of the tribune; she had almost believed she would lose him, her dutyâŠher betrothed.
A glance downward, however, and Feyd Rautha Harkonnen still stood victorious, bleeding as he was celebrated; he stepped slowly back into the interior, a gesture that mirrored her own, for she would now seek out her betrothed.
To show his pain that there might be a solution other than violence.
~~~~~~~~~~
Her steps were purposeful; despite her brief stay, she was familiar with the palaceâs layout, even though the guards and the servant at her side were merely a formality.
Instead, she stepped forward, ignoring the body still twitching slightly, stepped over it, and paid the doctor no mind, nor did she pay any attention to the smiling pets in the corner who were watching their ownerâs antics with interest.
âYouâve won, amused your uncle, fascinated meâŠspilled bloodâ she replied, her fingers slowly moving toward his side, but before she could touch him, he grabbed her wrist harshly, painfully tight.
It was Feyd who began to move now, releasing her wrist only as he walked around her, a hunter surveying his prey; though a hint of a smile played on his lips, she could still see the pain in his eyes.
âBlood, the pain, enjoy it, you couldnât give me anything betterâ his reply was insincere, amused, that of a young warrior who was unsure of her, who didnât know what she wanted.
Her knowing nod made him stop; her hand didnât reach for him but instead moved toward the bed.
âSit down, my future husband. Iâll give you something completely differentâ she said, sensing the hint of anticipation in the air as she hoped heâd jump at the chance, that the warrior would let his guard down.
Dark eyes gazed at her intimately one last time before he sat down on the bed; a hiss escaped him as pressure was applied to the wound, yet a smile appeared on his lips.
She, however, did not go to him immediately; she went to the dead man, whose body had stopped twitching, the life having drained from him.
She stepped over his body once more and took the medical supplies from the broken bowl.
Feydâs interested gaze rested on her as she returned to him; instead of sitting down beside him, she knelt beside him, knowingly stepping into the blood that had since spread across the bed.
She could feel his gaze upon her as he took in the sight, relishing it; his fingers clawed at his dark pants in a mix of pleasure and pain as she began to slowly close the stab wound.
âWhat does such devotion in blood show me?â he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
As she looked up at him, she could see that he was holding himself back, refraining from claiming her in the blood, from taking her before the wedding.
His body trembled slightly, his hands digging deeper into the fabric.
âIn all this brutal chaos, I show you nothing but careâ her answer made him pause; he knew he was pondering, trying to get used to this new thing that wasnât made of blood and death.
Only after she had closed the wound and looked up at him again did he suddenly grab her jaw and pull her roughly up toward him onto the bed, heedless of the blood that now stained him as well.
For a moment, her fear, an instinct, flashed through her, stirring him, but just as quickly, they both regained their composure as she lay beneath him, their gazes met, and his hand, cool against her warm skin, remained.
âCare, is that what you bring me, wife?â he asked, moving closer to her, feeling his tongue trace the curve of her neck, licking over her pulse, her own hand not stopping him.
âCare and everything you want, youâll see, gentleness is arousing,â she replied, placing her hand gently on his cheek, watching as such a touch confused him, almost making him flinch, until he gradually began to enjoy it.
They were both in danger of losing herself in that moment before Feyd pulled her into a passionate kiss.
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