(A.N) Let me first say that from here on out I have the most amazing editor in the world helping me. Her name is Rachel Peters (Sapphira) and let me tell you people the woman works wonders. The story wouldn't be what it was today without her help.

Chapter Two

Shandre'la had been 'escorted' – and none to gently – to the Palace. To be honest, she truthfully did not blame them as they had just had another uprising on Arakis and it was with extreme caution and cloaked weapons that they accepted one not of their own.

 Women dressed in clothes that revealed more expanses of bare, toned, and lightly oiled flesh than they concealed scrutinized openly and some not too kindly, her and Marisa, who were swathed strangely in gray. People who in her opinion should be nowhere near the thrown shot glares of what they believed was intimidating hostility at her, and Shandre'la had a mind to laugh at them until she glanced over at Leto. Obviously still trying to read her.

"Is this how you treat an emissary from another planet? I thought Dune was the center of the universes. Even upon the surface of my homeworld we obviously understand what better hospitality is."

Peasants and others like them gasped, stunned that she would speak thus, but Leto didn't bat an eyelash.

"And where exactly do you come from?"

She adjusted her hood once more so that it remained upon her head and then looked up and pointedly past him. If he wanted to be rude, then she would very well do the same, and something told her that she would be far superior at than him.

Where do you come from?

Marisa snickered as Leto tried to inflict the Weirding Way on her mistress. It was like a inept child trying to pick the brain of an experienced adult. Shandre'la raised her hand in silent command and Marisa immediately ceased her amused laughter. Putting her hand back down, Shandre'la's robes fluttered around her like a dream of black silk. She turned to Leto and even though he couldn't see her smile, she did. And he knew it.

"Where I come from makes no difference, for when I came it was doomed. Why am I here, is the question you should have asked me. But since you didn't I will answer it for you. I come to deliver a message."

Ghanima spoke up for the first time. Making herself known as she sat upon the ancient thrown with Farad'n standing dutifully by her side. "We take no messages from masked women. Benne Gesserit witches run rampant on our sands as if they now possess them."

"One day they shall if your family – No…" Shandre'la turned to Leto who now stood on the other side of the thrown. Meeting his gaze so strongly with the emerald intensity of her own that she saw his flicker slightly in response. "If you do not change the path you have embarked upon. It will only lead to death."

"And how do you know this? His path saved us all. Why should we listen to you?"

Shandre'la turned to look at the one who had spoken and stopped on Farad'n. Her eyes grew hard. She had no love for the Benne Gesserit's or the old Royal family. Their families shared an unpleasant history and they would always have old scores to settle with one another.

Her lips twisted sardonically. "The royal dog speaks. But one must learn when to pull the leash and when to let their pets run free."

Leto's voice whipped forcefully through her mind. Answer the question, woman. The guards prodded her painfully in the back with their weapons. She let out a breath in exasperation.

"Alright, but only because you asked nicely, Leto." Her words and voice were sarcastic. "Dune was not the first to bear the worms." She locked eyes with Leto as she said this. He nodded for her to continue but she remained quiet.

"If you want to make this harder we can make it harder." Ghanima motioned for the guards and then they prodded her in the back again.             This time with enough force to bruise her skin, even through the cloth. Marisa warily stepped back a fraction, knowing Shandre'la's temper was as fierce as her tongue. It just took longer to retract. She stood back and out of her mistress's way. Waiting for what she knew all too well was about to happen.

The foolish guard went to prod her again – this time with a blow hard enough to send Shandre'la to the floor – and found himself on the said ground at the wrong end of his weapon.

"You hit me once, and I forgave you. You hit me a second time, and I allowed it. But touch me again and you will die." Her voice grew colder and she slipped into a strange and unfamiliar form of the Weirding Way. She looked up to the thrown again. Eyes blazing and words dripping with disdain. "As I said, Ghanima… You need to train your pets better than you have."

Releasing her hand, the spear clattered on the precious inlaid stone beneath her feet, and she took a step forward – towards the raised dais where Ghanima was perched – and right into Leto, who suddenly shimmered through the space separating them faster than the eye could see. Blocking her path with the line of his own body pressing into hers from just a few inches away. She didn't flinch back because she knew he was coming. She would always know.

"Why are you here?" His voice had darkened slightly and he almost aggressively took a step forward. She took a step back. Not allowing the subtle distance between them to be closed, even though something clenched deep within her in reaction to his nearness that had nothing to do with fear, and everything to do with why she had come this far to stand exactly where she stood in the first place.

"As I said before…Arakis wasn't the first to bear the worms, or your family the first to set foot upon the Golden Path. A hundred years ago on a planet called Sun'calador in the galaxy of Moran, the Golden Path was originally forged by my ancestor. While my families powers were at its peak a hundred years ago, we never feasted in the spice because we were of the spice. Our lives were short and so went time. Our world was torn in half by that Path and now half of our world is forever water while the other is sand. A mockery of the deserts that once flowed across the entire surface. Our people, in order to survive, searched for another planet. Dune was our choice. We sent our workers here to watch over the worms and protect them."

Shandre'la paused for a brief moment and took in a deep breath.  "Now… here I stand.  The last of a Royal Line of waning powers to tell you to remove yourself from the Golden Path before it is too late, and before what happened to my homeworld and its people – my people – happens to yours."

Leto shook his head slightly and took another step towards her. Shandre'la retreated.

"You didn't answer me. Why are you here?"

Step. Retreat. Step. Retreat. It was as if the two of them were locked within some form of strange dance, and that right there was probably more of the truth then she wanted to admit. For indeed, something had just begun.

"You spoke to me of your history, but why are you really here?" He took another step. But this time, Shandre'la had had enough and stepped up to meet him. Closing the distance till they stood with barely a shadow between them. Close enough that if she focused just a little bit, she could feel the heat from his skin, even through her robes, and she could hear the pulse of his heart.

She didn't focus… but the knowledge was still there. And she wondered briefly, wildly, if it was the same way for him.

If his sapphire gaze was anything to go on, then she would never know. But he didn't step away.

Her slender hands came up and she slipped the hood back. Allowing it to fall back against the space between her shoulder blades relishing in a thick, frothing cascade her silken mass of black curls that fell down the line of her back. Smelling of the desert sands and the uniqueness that was all her own. Her slightly defiant, highly passionate green eyes never turned away… Never broke from his own. They were two strong individuals. Both leaders. Both rulers in their own rights. Neither would be submissive to the other. Neither would ever admit defeat.

She spoke aloud, and although everyone around them watching could hear her words, they were only for him.

"I came to Dune for one reason. I came to find what I've dreamt of my whole life. A creature of the desert." Shandre'la ran her hand gently along his sandtrout skin and smiled slightly. Her movements were partially hidden by the closeness of their bodies. Leto's electric eyes flickered again with unreadable thoughts and emotions. He didn't tense, didn't pull away, but there was a sudden stillness to him that spoke to her louder than any words ever could.

And although that stillness was meant to intimidate, Shandre'la was not the least bit afraid of him, and that knowledge was reflected quite plainly within her emerald gaze. 

It appeared as if they both had finally met their match.

"I've come to offer a divergence of your Path and a way to a better future. I've come to take my husband and you are he."

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