"Are you sure about this?" Otheym asks, falling into careful step beside her as they make the short sand walk down to the collection of guards waiting for the last of the 'rebels' to arrive for a summons from the new God Emperor.
"It's my duty to our people." Chani reminds but is grateful for his hand's warm grip when she slips a little in the uneven sand. A small misstep in attempted countering for the added bulk of her growing belly beneath the covering of her stillsuit.
"I wasn't talking about that." Otheym reminds, flicking a glance around to ensure they weren't being overheard as they mingle among the others in their troop with a low warning, "If he suspects," as his hand raises to rest briefly against the noticeable swelling in Chani's abdomen.
Chani silences him with a glare but allows his hand to rest a little longer against her stomach before he wisely drops it back to his side. "that's why we came to our arrangement." She reminded, dropping her voice even lower now as they fell back in an attempt to disappear just a little longer in the gathered groups now shaking the sand from their shoulders and reaching slowly to unfasten the breathing masks of their stillsuits as they began to chatter among themselves as a few of the guards sent to watch them break away to turn the makers back into the sands.
Otheym nods in answer with a low "I don't need a reminder." allowing for her to reach up and shake some remaining sand from his short, cropped hair. The scuffed starting of his beard was a hopeless cause despite the cover of the filter mask, but she did her best to brush the sand away from that, too.
"Otheym." Chani sighed guilt, returning in the break of her voice at the warrior, now nuzzling his cheek against her gloved palm before allowing her to lower her hand.
He quiets her with a finger to her lips. "I stand by my agreement." He remembers rubbing the pad of his finger along her sand-dried lips before moving his hand to cup along her jaw as they pause momentarily, allowing more of their fellows to wander ahead of them as they steal just a little more privacy among the masses of the gathered tribes. "We've both lost much to this unneeded war, and it's only in its infancy if you'll pardon the usage."
Chani bowed her head, leaning into his muscular frame for a short pause to regain control of herself. At least she spilled unneeded water in the twisting heartache this conversation was brewing inside of her.
Otheym, too, lowers his head, whispering more into her hair as she snuggles into him, chasing the grounding steadiness he offered.
"I don't need the false promise of earning the softness of your touch, Chani, nor the possibility of one day knowing of your desiring me as mate to sustain me when I know such a day will never be." The soft-spoken warrior tells her, "I've had that kind of love in my life already, just as you have."
Chani quietly hating the way she knew he was right. She still calls out for her lost Usul during those cold nights just as she hears Otheym pleading for Dhuri on the sleeping mat across from hers in their shared tent.
They had tried briefly to find some peace in the other's more intimate touches until they both realized such attempts were useless, given how deeply they craved the company of their former companions.
And that was well before Chani had realized she carried Usul's child in her belly.
The ruse itself had been Otheym's idea. A way to keep the whispers of Chani's arrival among his tribe less noticeable as much as possible. Not that it had worked much, given how widely known the newly ascended emperor hunted for her.
The impressive warrior fending off many challenges in those early days when her growing belly had meant that Chani was soon unable to fight for herself and that hadn't stopped the continued arguments of handing Chani over in trade for the emporium leaving the few remaining 'free' tribes alone in future after Paul had taken more complete power among the great houses beyond Dune.
"All I know is if you so wish it, I will gladly take your child as my own even when they aren't of my body." Otheym pledges in his low timber, "I will protect them and you for as long as I'm able or until you no longer wish me beside you."
Again, Chani feels moister wetting her eyes at the words tickling against her ear as she hugs herself closer to her fellow fedaykin. In an attempt to hold back the careless loss, she turns to him, pressing her sand-cracked lips against his beard-dusted cheek.
Then Otheym was twisting away from her, his knife hand lashing out with a warning slashing to the robed figure that had so quietly snuck up on them, but Chani instinctively met his attack with the side blocking of her own blade, turning her back to whoever it was attempting to listen in on their more private conversation.
Blade now locked with blade, Otheym looked from Chani's glaring eyes towards the one she'd so quickly spun to defend and back again unsure how to continue until the hurried but muted sounds of guard steps among the shuffling of fremen boots had the two fedaykin turning instead to the threat of battle as palace guards with Gurney Halleck leading them begin to close in around them.
"Hold."
Chani's next breath caught fast in her throat at the commanded order from beneath the hood of the one she'd been unthinkingly defending.
She doesn't turn at the whisper sounds of the hood being thrown back across the shoulders nor when Paul gives a much harsher "I said hold, Gurney-man" when it looked like the sun hardened teaching man wouldn't be called back so easily with the threat of weapons so close to the emperor he'd sworn so loyally to protect. "She'll not harm me."
Chani cursed how right his words were, so much so that for a half second, she considered turning just enough to sheath her blade into Paul's shoulder before the burn of a carried projectile weapon could be aimed at her.
Otheym seemed to be having that same thought, too, as he angled himself more to cover her from the gang of royal lackeys, still glaring them down in attempted intimidation.
She hates too when she so quickly leans into the cupping touch Paul makes against her jaw at the murmured "Chani" he gives in greeting when she scraps enough courage to face him. "Sihaya, you've come home to me." his other hand slowly, deliberately pushed down her blade hand.
The tingling burn of the signet ring against her skin caused Chani to pull away with a low hiss at the touch when every fiber of her wanted to press closer as her knife-free hands lifted to strike yet again across the Lisan al Gaib's cheek. The ringing slap seems to echo in the now deathly quiet courtyard as all eyes turn to watch.
Paul seemed to be ready for her this time with a low, rumbling chuckle as his fingers closed fast around her wrist. He held her arm in place; his eyes flickered between her glaring eyes, and her mouth pressed into an angered line. The curled smile he gives her sends her stomach rolling in revulsion, reminding her too clearly of Feyd-Rautha as he brushes his lips against her fingers before letting go of her hand.
"See to comforts and proper requirements for stillsuit relaxation for all our honored guests," Mahdi instructs, and Chani is surprised at how upset she became when she notices the fact the God Emperor wasn't wearing his stillsuit but more relaxed clothes fitted for the practice floor with the slacked pants and an open-colored training shirt to meet them beneath his hooded robe.
"Already growing water soft."
She hears more than a few of her fellow tribe members whisper as Paul turns away from her to lead a stone-faced Gurney back towards the long staircase leading up to the Arrakeen stronghold.