A/N: this is my first Dune fic, it's definitely AU. Bear with me, I might
not be as good at the politics as Frankie Boy, but there will definitely be
some! I'll try my best to stick with the whole "Golden Path" Theme, but
this is more a take off from the mini-series than the book, though I have
read Children of Dune.
The ever-present howl of the Arrakis wind gave substance to Leto's troubled thoughts, as he sat on a high rock out cropping of the sietch, staring out into the dark windswept planes of sand.
*history is written on the sands of Arrakis they say. A history of death and corruption. One man tries to win peace, and all that he receives for his efforts is a bloody Jihad, raging across the empire, and a silent death on the sands.*
Leto shifted closer towards the sietch wall, closer to the warmth. The desert was cold at night.
*I don't believe he is dead. I believe he lives, walking the sands in blindness, preaching at the foot of my Aunt's holy temple. I believe these dreams are his, and now it is my turn. Alia is falling faster and faster into abomination, and it falls to us to make things right. This path is the only way-*
"Leto?" Ghanima called, her silhouette lit from behind by the soft light of a glow globe, "Is it the golden path again? Have you had another dream?"
She lowered herself beside him, watching his troubled face. How like he was to their grandfather, the first Duke Leto. He sat, brooding silently over other possibilities, other ways than the sacrifice of the path. But the path was at least clear. The face was not.
"Yes, another. Our father this time. We were sitting by the sand trout, in a sietch I do not know, with old symbols carved into the walls." He answered, drawing spiralling shapes in the sand. "Ghani, do you remember the stories Harrah used to tell us? About the Water-Stealers?"
"You think this place is Jacarutu?" She asked, a sceptical look that was far too old on her young face.
"I think He's there Ghani," Leto told her softly.
"Father?"
"Yes. I think he's at Jacarutu."
"We've believed he's alive for sometime. Why at Jacarutu? And why do I believe that this is not all that is troubling you dear brother?" Ghanima questioned, probing with her abilities to determine the cause of her brother's anxiety.
"There's a new element in the dream Ghani. A rogue element. It's not supposed to be there." He told her, staring off into the distance, trying to understand the implications this could cause in the Golden Path.
"What kind of rogue element?" She asked.
"I don't know. It's a face, just the eyes mostly. They're fremen, the blue in blue, but they're not. Not really. This person is hiding from something. She's not supposed to be there." He told her, running a hand through his dark locks in frustration.
"She? Are you sure it's a woman?"
"Yes. The features are feminine. But she's not supposed to be there!" He cried, showing his emotions, a thing he only did in the presence of those he trusted.
"You were not supposed to be their either, remember?" Ghani told him, "Father thought it would just be me, but it was you too, and humanity will be the better for it." She advised.
"I cannot tell the nature of this woman. I sense fearlessness, and determination in the set of her eyes, and sometimes of her mouth, but nothing else is known to me. Maybe if I tried the spice trance-"
"NO! You will become abomination, like Alia! We cannot risk the trance, it has too much risk." Ghani told him clutching his arm.
Leto turned his head slowly, facing his twin. "Do not fear Ghani, fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration-"
Ghani joined him in the litany against fear, calming herself in the Bene Gesserit way. "I will not fear, I will face my fear, and let it pass through me."
The ever-present howl of the Arrakis wind gave substance to Leto's troubled thoughts, as he sat on a high rock out cropping of the sietch, staring out into the dark windswept planes of sand.
*history is written on the sands of Arrakis they say. A history of death and corruption. One man tries to win peace, and all that he receives for his efforts is a bloody Jihad, raging across the empire, and a silent death on the sands.*
Leto shifted closer towards the sietch wall, closer to the warmth. The desert was cold at night.
*I don't believe he is dead. I believe he lives, walking the sands in blindness, preaching at the foot of my Aunt's holy temple. I believe these dreams are his, and now it is my turn. Alia is falling faster and faster into abomination, and it falls to us to make things right. This path is the only way-*
"Leto?" Ghanima called, her silhouette lit from behind by the soft light of a glow globe, "Is it the golden path again? Have you had another dream?"
She lowered herself beside him, watching his troubled face. How like he was to their grandfather, the first Duke Leto. He sat, brooding silently over other possibilities, other ways than the sacrifice of the path. But the path was at least clear. The face was not.
"Yes, another. Our father this time. We were sitting by the sand trout, in a sietch I do not know, with old symbols carved into the walls." He answered, drawing spiralling shapes in the sand. "Ghani, do you remember the stories Harrah used to tell us? About the Water-Stealers?"
"You think this place is Jacarutu?" She asked, a sceptical look that was far too old on her young face.
"I think He's there Ghani," Leto told her softly.
"Father?"
"Yes. I think he's at Jacarutu."
"We've believed he's alive for sometime. Why at Jacarutu? And why do I believe that this is not all that is troubling you dear brother?" Ghanima questioned, probing with her abilities to determine the cause of her brother's anxiety.
"There's a new element in the dream Ghani. A rogue element. It's not supposed to be there." He told her, staring off into the distance, trying to understand the implications this could cause in the Golden Path.
"What kind of rogue element?" She asked.
"I don't know. It's a face, just the eyes mostly. They're fremen, the blue in blue, but they're not. Not really. This person is hiding from something. She's not supposed to be there." He told her, running a hand through his dark locks in frustration.
"She? Are you sure it's a woman?"
"Yes. The features are feminine. But she's not supposed to be there!" He cried, showing his emotions, a thing he only did in the presence of those he trusted.
"You were not supposed to be their either, remember?" Ghani told him, "Father thought it would just be me, but it was you too, and humanity will be the better for it." She advised.
"I cannot tell the nature of this woman. I sense fearlessness, and determination in the set of her eyes, and sometimes of her mouth, but nothing else is known to me. Maybe if I tried the spice trance-"
"NO! You will become abomination, like Alia! We cannot risk the trance, it has too much risk." Ghani told him clutching his arm.
Leto turned his head slowly, facing his twin. "Do not fear Ghani, fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration-"
Ghani joined him in the litany against fear, calming herself in the Bene Gesserit way. "I will not fear, I will face my fear, and let it pass through me."