Notes:
I do not own the novel Dune (shocker, I know)
This was a school project, so bear with it.
Some events contridict what happens in the actual Dune prequels, but having not read them I don't care. This is what I would have had happen.
Comment and enjoy!!
The Weaving of a Destiny
Chapter One:
Young Vladimir Harkonnen straightened in his chair, rearranging the embossed silk of his robe. How he was dreading the formal dinner party tonight! All those people…being expected to make "small talk"…it was not his way. For all his lavish tastes and extravagant likes in entertainment, he was very much a private man. Wasn't that the way he had been taught? That showing your true self was a sign of weakness?
"Please, na-Baron, your father will not be pleased to see your robes wrinkled by your slouching."
The ringing voice of Vodir, his father's Mentat, pierced through his brain. Vladimir didn't understand however his father, Baron Harkonnen, got along with Vodir. While his father was a cold, haughty, and rash man with an uncontrollable temper, the Mentat, though calculating, always had a thoughtful air about him and was the one, however small, source of kindness in the na-Baron's life.
"You're the intelligent one here Vodir, so perhaps you could explain to me why I must constantly be subjected to this public display of utter fraud and incompetence."
Though it might have been a trick of the light, Vladimir thought he saw a faint smile rise to the Mentat's face. "You already know the reason, na-Baron. To keep up appearances and reassure that your people are confident in your future leadership."
"My people? I don't have any people." The very thought appalled him. Shouldn't he have a choice whether or not he had the troubles of an entire group simply thrust upon him? He swore under his breath so that Vodir wouldn't hear…he thought it a dirty habit. Perhaps it was.
"Begging your pardon, na-Baron, but it won't always be that way. Now, you really should get ready. You do remember what happened last time you were late to one of these 'public displays of utter fraud and incompetence', I presume?"
It was Vladimir's turn to smirk. "I remember." And it was a bitter memory, to be sure.
"Well, I'm sure we wouldn't want that to happen again. You know the saying, 'the only reason to remember the holes of a road is to be able to avoid them in the future'."
Vladimir groaned. "No! Not more 'sayings', Mentat. You're starting to sound like a Bene Gesserit witch."
"Funny thing you should mention the Bene Gesserit. I hear there will be a group of them at the dinner tonight."
Bile built up in Vladimir's throat. He had heard enough stories of the Bene Gesserit witches to make him despise their very presence. Why had his father invited them? Though a power-hungry old man, the Baron had no great love for these witches either. What had prompted him to do such a thing?