Forked Golden Path

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned those wonderful books and the movies that have colored my dreams for well over a decade I don't. This story is taking from the books, movie and both mini series'. I do however own the faction of women who are against the Bene Gesserit and if you ever want to use them all you have but to do is ask. Oh yeah, when it's in italics that means someone is using the Weirding Way.

Back story Summary: Leto II is on the 'Golden Path'. His sister Ghanima won't marry Farad'n because of politics and she has yet to marry off her brother. She is however falling for him. (Farad'n).

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"She's summoned the Worma're." The voice was little more than a whisper.

A single flashlight illuminated the sand. The two who met there in secret dared not to bring to life any of the main lamps, for fear of being discovered. One stood on one side of the line that divided their planet and one on the other. With each word, they shortened the life of the traveler.

"Why?"

"She suspects something and thinks her brilliant friend will come to her aid. It's truly sad what people with no hope will do. The worms will die… This has been foretold. We just have to make sure that the Worma're don't interfere and alter that assured future."

"Then… we have to stop the Worma're bitch."

There was a momentary pause. "Are you suggesting…?"

The hooded head nodded. The silence seemed to stretch out until it was broken by an ominous murmur. "One more makes no difference. We have to take whatever steps that are necessary to fulfill our goal. No other can alter our plans."

A chilling gust of wind began to blow. Seeming to deaden the land and with it went the two's courage.

"Did you feel that? It seemed…unnatural. Maybe we shouldn't – "

Cold hands clasped cold hands in the giving of reassurance. A voice replied soothingly,

"Just a draft from the coldness that grips my half of the world. It changes nothing. The Worma're has to die."

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Leto II ran effortlessly across the sands, and laughing at the freedom he seldom felt. It was only here, in the desert that had taken his family and embraced them throughout the unfolding of their legacy, that he felt truly at home.

Ghanima remained more and more at the palace rarely traveling outside its walls choosing to spend a large portion of her time with her politically betrothed. Leto felt like he was more and more losing his sister to her pull of her own heart, and after all that they had been through he wasn't sure if sacrificing his humanity and his sister both would break him. They had always been close. Closer than any other could imagine. Two separate bodies, but always of the same mind for so long… Until his destiny had changed that. He figured it was only natural that Ghani would feel it as well, and would seek out the human companionship of another… Something that he could no longer supply with the level that he had once done… He knew she felt him pulling away as well. Seeking solace more and more within the sands of Arakiss.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he abandoned his conflicting thoughts before they could become any worse, and looked up as a gray streak far off to the west plummeted like a rock from the sky. When it hit, the ground red spread faster than blood at a Freman raiding party. Frowning slightly, he changed directions to see what happened.

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By the time he arrived, the worms had left nothing but the ship. It was obviously a passenger ship but the passengers were absent. Two pairs of foot prints left the ship but ended abruptly by a worm hole. Praying absently for their obviously lost souls, he looked back to the ship and found that he didn't recognize it. The craftsmanship was beautiful and indestructible. Then a question began to nag at him.

Why did it crash?

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The sands of our old home run red with the blood of our people, my child.

The stately woman watched as green eyes looked out from beneath black silk. She could feel the smile that sat on her face. A small laugh escaped the black silk.

This is not a time to laugh my child. Our people will die if the worms die. You must go to Dune and make sure that the spice flows.

Mother, give me a day to prepare and I will leave for Dune in our fastest ship. But do not try to force me to go. It is not our way.

 She stood and the silk fell around her form in flowing waves, as if it had a mind of its own.

Shandre'la knew he was watching her… could sense him near, but she didn't care. The people in the square stood behind a thick cage and watched as she preformed for them. Thoughts of her mother's words almost had her decapitated and the audience ate it up. Somewhere in this crowd was Leto II and she was going to find him. Her eyes searched the crowd purposely and her body was pure poetry in motion, completely swathed in the light-weight black cloth so no one could visually see any portion of her body, other than her eyes. She took it seriously. Her pitch-black hair was plastered to her damp neck and face from the heat, body tight, and muscles clenching and releasing to a soundless rhythm as she went through her workout with fierce determination. There was no point in doing it if you didn't do it for real. Her feet and hands dodged flying Blades that moved with deadly precision. Twelve flew in the air at her but none made contact with her skin. The sharp sounds of the volatile weapons slinging into the stone and mortar of the walls echoed throughout the room. She let out her pent-up breath when the last hit the wall with a sense of finality and a familiar rush of elation filled her at having accomplished… well... one of her goals, at least.

Now it was time to see if she had accomplished the other. And as it was, it was the only one that mattered within this moment upon her. Not yet another one of her victories over the dangerous dance with the Blades, which, despite the extreme rarity of one being able to fend off 12 at one time on this planet, it was a common enough practice for her. But if it served its purpose like she believed it would, then it would have proved itself to have been more than worth her time.

The audience cheered in awe of the show, as she calmly watched her companion and friend come in the cage and picked up the now dormant Blades and the currency the crowd had thrown in. Ever since Alia had killed herself, prosperity had returned to Dune. People crowded the streets and they needed entertaining. Since the plane had crashed in the proverbial Mecca of planets Shandre'la and her maid Marisa took advantage of it.

Her green eyes turned slightly as it was drawn towards a cloaked man she spotted walking through the thick throng of people. There was something undeniably enticing about the way he moved through a crowd.

A sort of effortless prowess, a hidden agenda, as if he were merely socializing, but in actuality, he was avoiding being at the center of attention if at all possible. No one talked to him because to them he was a shadow, but Shandre'la knew different. She saw him for what he was. Not what he was pretending to be. The only way he made a pass through a crowd was if there was something he wanted on the other side, and the only way to attain this thing was to bite the bullet and part the proverbial Sea.

She'd noticed all this about him, and as he made his way through the crowd toward her, she half-wished she didn't know him. Her dreams were centered around the moment they would meet as was the curse of being pre-born. It made his meet-and-greet song-and-dance seem a little less magical, but not by much. It was a dance, to be honest... For such a man, he was unspeakably graceful, lithe... Any casual observer would have thought he'd be exhausted by the time he emerged, but she knew differently. This was his life.

Initiating a surprising movement, she bowed to him, the black silk of her veils rippling and the crowd watched in wonder as she slowly uncovered her face. Green eyes met sapphire blue ones with a steady hint of challenge.

"It's nice to finally meet you Leto II."

The crowd collectively gasped and stepped hastily away from their duke. She watched with unnoticeable amusement as a man who thought he could never be surprised ate crow pie. She knew he couldn't read her, but it was taxing for her to use her powers to keep her mind shielded from his perusal. Her people were dieing and she needed his help. And she was already running out of time.

He looked at her warily and asked the question that was on all minds.

"Are you Bene Gesserit?"

Instantly, her emerald green eyes hardened till they glittered like hard gems, and she couldn't suppress her reflexive hostility towards him. To assume that she was one of the most hated of enemies of her people was more than just insulting, it was horrifying. Words flew to her lips before she could censure them.

"The Bene Gesserit believe he who controls the spice controls the universe. My people are of the spice and I've come to warn you that the Golden Path you now travel on is forked and will lead your sister to her death and you to insanity."

Before she had a chance to see what his response was to her warning, yet another pair of sapphire blue eyes flashed within her vision upon the sudden and dangerous movement of one within the crowd, and she reacted instinctively. Fist shooting up to wrap around the hilt of a wicked looking dagger that had been flung at her with deadly precision. Aimed at her heart.

"The Worma're are back! No one wants you here. You're worm killers!"

Her hardened emerald eyes lifted from where they gazed contemplatively upon the quivering point of the blade just a few inches away from the calm beat of her heart… But they met her would-be assassin with glittering hatred and determination. His fate sealed within those eyes.

It never even occurred to the fool to make a run for it.

"Your water you give freely for your forked tongue. We kill no worms."

Flipping back around the blade caught within her hand, she forcefully flicked her wrist. Sending it back to its master faster than most of the eyes within the crowd could see.

When they finally did see the blade again, it was protruding the bloody mess of its owner's forehead. His body crumpled on the sand that was quickly beginning to stain with crimson.

Shandre'la cursed her temper and stared in horror as a Freman died by her hand. Rightfully so, but still… She wasn't a killer, and would never be comfortable with the death of another upon her hands.

Marisa had come to stand behind her throughout the entire incident, and looked over at one of her own people. Empathy and concern reflected in her gaze.

"My lady, it's alright."

"No…" Shandre'la murmured in response. Sadness reflected in her tone and briefly within her eyes. "It's not."

Her gaze left the corpse and turned back to Leto, whose own gaze had never even left hers.

She swallowed against the knowledge that even though he was unable to 'read' her, her moral conflict had been all too easily witnessed.

But she didn't blink, didn't turn away. Her eyes became cool and impersonal once more. Even against the intensity she saw within his glowing indigo one.

Remembering why she was here, she spoke again. This time with a little bit more formality. Her mother's words once again echoing within her head.

"Dune was not the first to bear the worms."

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