XV: Shifts in the Sand
Feyd held my face. "My sweetness. I like to take my time with you. The time is what I do not have." It was an awful feeling to be denied. I was swallowing back the disgusting feeling in my throat when he placed a gentle kiss against my cheek. "Would you join me for dinner tonight? We can try to have a meal, just us again. Every course, and when you are satisfied, I'll have you for dessert."
My disappointment showed faster than I could control it. My face fell.
Feyd ate the expression up with greed, smirking and kissing me once more. "I yearn for you, too."
"Then don't deny me," I said.
"The captain will be here any minute."
I swallowed. "You're leaving?"
"Only for a little while."
"You said we have to be together for everything. A strong front."
His head tilted. The loosening of his hands against my face made my cheeks warm as his touch dipped down to my arms. His thumbs caressed my skin.
"I would prefer to have you close," he revealed.
"Then we should be together," I murmured. His caress paused as he lifted his gaze to mine. The flickering of understanding lit through the darkness of his pitch black iris'.
"Don't leave me here," fell from my lips like a plead.
Feyd went very serious at the drop of a hat. "I would not leave you anywhere."
"So you'll take me with you? I don't care that it is boring. I'll be good. I swear."
He agreed to let me accompany him. I was relieved to not be left in the dark with his absence. We walked out to the landing bay that I saw the first time I came to Carthag. It was ready for the venture. Men and thopters thrummed the atmosphere alive. Feyd said it was a scouting expedition. He wished to be there when his unit investigated the area they'd been told Fremen resided in.
Captain Rurik was not too pleased I was in attendance. He had to move soldiers from Feyd's thopter to other ones since the na-Baron refused any others presence while I flew.
The man wore a tired expression. "We'll see if the witch is right."
I asked Feyd if the captain meant me. It made me uncomfortable to think Feyd had spun lies about my abilities to give him some perceived advantage in his leadership. I did not know the first thing about being a witch nor what they could truly do.
My abilities to control the emotions regarding Feyd were out of control. I had no business having any more.
"He means the one who was here before us," Feyd corrected. "When we were still ruled by the Emperor on this planet."
"And the witch said she knew where the Fremen were?"
"A witch does not always speak in truths."
The thopter flew through the desert air. It was a deepening night on the planet. Screens showed a weird greenish grey color to what was outside the windows.
Feyd again flew the aircraft single handedly. His focus was intense on the controls.
"What does that mean?"
His fingers tapped more controls. The motions of the thopter evened out in the night air. It was surreal to be flying through pure darkness into these haunted lands.
We all knew what lurked out in these dunes. Yet, we flew blindly.
"They speak in riddles. They can make you do things, forget things, want things you never did. Their abilities are magic. The Emperor has made it commonplace to allow them power over people they should not."
"I'd never met one before," I said. "But when I did, I knew she was different. Powerful."
"Lady Fenring, yes." He sighed. "That is the witch who leads us into the desert now."
A strange ice laced through his tone that caught me offguard. My body responded in a surge of awareness. The back of my neck was struck with an intense prickling. I felt every bead of sweat formed atop my flesh.
"Do you not trust the information?"
"I do not trust her," he said. After he tapped a last few buttons, he relaxed his hands at the controls. "She does not serve me."
"Not like your witch does," I finished.
That was what he meant.
His eyes scanned the windows ahead of us. He adjusted the filter that turned it more green and grainy.
"She told me to send you to the Bene Gesserit school."
Me? Why me?
"Anyone may become one of them? You do not have to be born special to learn their abilities."
"You can buy ones already trained as a witch. Or send in a daughter or sister or prospect to have them trained. They take any woman sent in."
He had never mentioned it before. My lack of education was a commonplace miscommunication, but he did not complain to have my stupidity changed. Had I missed a cue that he wanted me smarter?
"Is that what na-Baron wishes of me? Should I attend this place to learn magic?"
"No," he said very firmly. "Our allegiance is to each other. Not the Bene Gesserit. You are needed here with me."
Leaving his side would warrant many changes. One of whom being myself. Who I was without him, I did not know. He made me with his own hands. Every piece of me was fed luxury, savage and gory.
Bene Gesserit could be refined ladies. I was not refined.
Then there was the prospect of actually missing him that I zipped from my thoughts before it latched too deeply.
Voices droned on the radio in the cab. They spoke of the coordinates.
Feyd flicked a light that blared a stream of lights onto the desert sand. The windows changed from the green grainy to the hazy desert air.
I remained quiet as Feyd worked. They searched the area around the set of coordinates in hopes that there was something around. He did not look convinced. His face was set and tense.
It was a mistake to break a concentration on a matter that was as important as this.
My fingers played with the fabric of my dress or pulled against the harness buckled against my torso. Anything to distract myself.
I began to wonder why I had insisted on accompanying him to work. It was so boring. But, it was time with Feyd near.
My body knew how to relax in place whenever he was in sight. It did not struggle to remain rigid and alert. Every little noise did not capture my attention when he was here. He was a safety that I knew to trust. In a demented way, he was a comfort.
I let myself succumb to the safety. I tucked my feet below me and curled into a small ball, resting my cheek against my kneecap. The bouncing of the flight became rhythmic. My eyes fell heavier. They were a weight to force open.
Some time with them closed lulled me to sleep.
I was only aware of the noises of the thopter as it flew. Feyd's voice into the headset would stir me at first, but eventually it was unnoticeable.
The nap was nice. But it was disturbed when Feyd lifted me into his arms. "We are home, Mintha."
I blinked awareness throughout my lashes. Water filled my vision in its resistance.
The cool touch of his armor caressed my cheek.
"Are you hungry?"
My stomach did feel a little upset. Had I eaten?
"I'm tired," I murmured.
"Could you awaken? I have work to do."
I groaned. "Just a little while longer?"
Feyd said nothing more.
I awoke with a sudden awareness that I was not alone.
It was a time later. My body was still tired, but it was groggy like I'd been asleep for a long time.
Feyd brought me back to his chambers. It smelled like the sharp sting of his musk. My body was covered in slick sheets that he preferred.
I stretched my legs out below me. My face snuggled deeper into the pillow but it did not move. It was rather hard. And so warm.
My brow flexed as I peeked an my eye open.
Feyd's chambers, like I expected.
However what I did not expect was the sight of two long legs stretched out atop the mattress that were not mine.
My eyes ventured above and saw Feyd holding pages of a written communication. One hand petted the edges of my hair, toying with the strands.
I was sleeping against his thigh!
My body groaned. It burned every where. The souring of my stomach was strong with a particular ability to grumble audibly.
"You tire too easily. You've been asleep for two hours," Feyd relayed.
I groaned. "I can tell. I'm starved."
"Have you eaten at all today?"
"Um."
"Mintha," he growled.
"You said to come see you the instant I was ready." I sat up. "You did command that, did you not?"
He did not like the reply. The pages were snapped down to the bed.
"You're supposed to take care of yourself."
The frustration in his words was unwarranted as I was the one suffering with hunger, not him.
"I forgot." I shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"A lady of my house does. Her health is as paramount as my own."
I blinked. "I did not realize you thought so, na-Baron."
Feyd gave me a funny look but said nothing more. He only had me freshen up. There was no time to await Vishti to dress me properly. I used his bathing room to ready myself.
My body was too groggy to care that I looked disoriented. I needed food. Now.
I noticed the shadow outside the door. I lingered to see how long it would take before he freaked out in concern for my health. To my surprise, he remained quiet. He did not remove himself from the doorway though.
My hands finally pushed the button open.
"Ready," I said.
He looked me over but restrained from asking. He simply led the way through the chambers out into the corridor.
My stomach began to actually hurt. I held it as I walked.
"Are you well?" He asked.
"Forgoing breakfast was unwise," I admitted below my breath.
My body was in total revolt.
Feyd pulled us faster, stomping harder as he moved.
We were sat across a long narrow table like the night before. We were at its middle, a short distance away from one another. The decorations were the same. A lovely cloth was spread over the table. Three glasses surrounded our plates. The utensils shined under the glow of the candelabra light.
Feyd snapped his fingers. Servants were ushered inside the room with the meal quickly, to Feyd's booming insistence.
I popped things inside my mouth straight from the platters. It helped ease my discomfort quickly.
Wine and water were poured into my glass. I reached for the wine when he swatted my hands away from the drink. My mouth frowned. He took the wine over to his side. Glutton.
"Not until you eat," he said.
Eat? Like he was some kind of guardian.
The man fucked me with no protection, bit through the muscles of my back and took many more risks in concern of my health. His sudden interest in it was irritating. I was a grown person! If I drank too much, it was my fault.
"You are so protective," I grumbled. "I did not think you were the type to bother yourself with others."
The warm bread filled my mouth with a fluffy melting that I adored. I tasted the seasonings they imparted on the dough. More. I needed more.
I reached for another piece.
"I am not. Only you."
"And why is that?" I sipped from the rim of my cool water glass. It was actually cool as it slid down into my warm body. The weight in my stomach calmed the churning upset I'd entered the Great Hall with. "I am nothing."
"You are not nothing."
"By every definition I am nothing."
"Not to me." He rasped. "Eat, now. You look pale."
"Will you tell me why," I asked.
He clicked his tongue. "If you eat a full meal."
"Fine." I tore a piece of meat with my teeth.
Feyd settled in his seat, satisfied I was not going to fight him, and began to help himself to his own meal.
His side of the table was showed a selection of rare bloody pieces of meat. I watched him slice the meat as juices bled from the tissue. There was one plate that especially disturbed me.
I would recognize the black blood from anywhere.
My eyes jumped back to the beautiful bounty of cooked foods before me. The beans and breads and roasted vegetables and dehydrated meats. It all fitted to my tastes.
"Have you tried to recover more of your memories?" He asked.
I swallowed a mouthful of sticky roasted jerky. "No. I had not considered it."
"What exactly do you remember: faces, names?"
"Not exactly," I said. I wiped the corners of my mouth with the cloth napkin. "There is one memory that is brightest. It is just a snippet, but I can see it well."
His head tilted. "What is it?"
It felt a silly thing to recall. A small moment with nothing to be gained by the young heir. He was a serious man of grown appetites.
There was no place for girlish joy for a man so stern.
"Nothing really. It's just silly."
"Tell me." He pressed.
My body shifted. It was not all bad to share details. Maybe there were pieces he might find endearing. Perhaps, allow emotions untouched by his poisonous bloodlust to emerge for me.
"From when I was a young child." When he said nothing to add, I continued, "I am sitting on the lap of my grandmother looking at a sky of blue and purple lights. It is so bright, but I know it is night. An entire dark sky streaked with these vibrant hues like a river stretched through air." Aloud, I did hear how insignificant it was. It was not a memory. It was a picture. A single picture. I shrugged. "That's it. That is the only thing I see for sure. Except that my grandmother is dead. I know that too."
Feyd was serious in the silence. He did not smirk or taunt me with his humor. "Memories are a fickle thing. They come back at times you don't expect." The tone in his voice was striking. Regret, remorse, sorrow?
"You speak as though it is from experience."
His dark eyes snapped to mine. There was a flash of anger but it calmed. "It is."
"I'm sorry," fell from my mouth.
He swallowed thick gulps of his cup. It was a very clear point of tension in him. He did not elaborate on things, and I did not ask for specifics.
It was better to let foulness lie.
"Forward is the only way. There is no back. So I do not think on it."
"I do not believe it is something we control," I countered on a rattled breath. I did not like to speak out on personal matters like this. "There are things I try to forget but can't. No matter how hard I try. The memories, they come back. They haunt me."
"Nothing should haunt you, Mintha. There is no force strong enough to hurt you now."
I shook my head. "It is not a question of safety."
"Then what is it," he snipped.
How could he ever know the guilt, the weight of surviving when others like him were slain? He was an heir. His entire life was blessed with luxury and favor.
A person from that would never see from eyes beneath them.
"Faces. So many faces," I answered softly.
"You survived. They didn't. It is the order of the world. Do not feel guilt."
"I do not recall the faces to torture myself. My mind remembers them all the same. It flashes through my thoughts while I feel something good, look in someone's eyes, feel an emotion that might be pleasant. The faces still come." I sniffed, very aware of the emotion bottled at the back of my throat. "They are there to not let me forget why I am who I am, and how I came this way. They help me see what awaits beyond the fleeting. Maybe that's why you have them, too. To remind you of what is outside the moment."
Feyd said nothing. His face, blank and hollow.
He stared for many long moments, lost in the distance by the look of his eyes, before he returned to the present.
"I remember the first time I saw you," he replied. The distance blinked away in an instant. There was a lively glint at the corner of them now. "In those stinking dank dungeons below the castle. Do you remember them?"
"With every fiber of my being."
That place was something I would recall in detail until my final breath.
Feyd smacked his lips after a sip of his wine. He watched the red liquid swirl within his glass.
"I'd been there after a…well, a meeting with my uncle. I went down there to blow off steam, stab a person or two."
My blood turned very cold. I tensed in my seat, gripping the arm rests on either side to keep me in place.
These were topics we did not brush on for a reason. They did not deserve the light of day.
The foulness that lived in the castle cascaded down from the top, not the other way around.
Feyd's stare turned intense. It met mine and refused to release me from the torment of the emotion it loosened.
We did not talk on the past for a reason.
It was unspoken but still very much real.
"I was fascinated by you. First moment, and I knew. I knew what you were," he said, "but that frightened me. I used to hate things that scared me. I would only check on you when I couldn't get your face out of my mind. I'd fuck like crazy to forget it. Never worked. I returned to the dungeon to watch you." I waited for him to stop talking but he refused. "It became a drug I couldn't shake. You were the only…person, thing, whatever that I was afraid of. And everything you did was so fascinating. I fantasized about you millions of times. What it felt like to run my dagger straight through your belly. Fucking you with my long blade. You have no idea how much I thought of you."
No swallow gave reprieve to the drying in my throat.
I opened my mouth to stop him- please stop now!- but he was faster than I.
"When I couldn't take it anymore, I opened the door."
My head shook. "You don't have to-."
"You had been there for so long. You were a carcass. The blood flowed, the bones lived, but there was no life. I cut you in between your fingers, some of the most painful cuts to endure, and there was no response. The worst pain a person could stand and nothing."
Feyd paused. He wouldn't continue until I leveled my eyes at his face again. "I was too late. I deserved that, for being a coward. It took me too long to realize that it is worth the punishment to take what you want when you can. The dungeons had killed you. Not in body, but in mind. I almost walked out. But not until I knew what it felt like to touch your skin."
A soft smile curled the very edges of his lips as he recalled that memory.
I knew it, too.
My first kiss.
The first time I tasted the Harkonnen poison.
"There was life in that kiss. You were alive. And you revived from the taste of me."
Feyd let his voice die.
I sat gasping for air and holding my breath at the same time. My body did not know what to feel.
"I don't understand, na-Baron."
He smacked his lips from his wine once more. "What?"
"Wh-what was I? How did I frighten you?"
My mind reeled. He said it himself. I was a shell of a human. The threat of my existence was only that I would die before I could be used as a pincushion for amusement.
I leaned back against my seat, opting for deep breathing and sweating profusely.
What I had known as solid ground was wobbly. What I'd known about Feyd, too, quaked inside my mind.
That is not how I remembered it. That was not the reasoning I grew to understand.
His chair scratched the floor as he pushed it away from the table. Instead of storming off as he did the night before, he rounded the side to confront me directly.
"You." He pulled my chin up to look at him high above me. "You are the only thing in the Imperium that I will bow to. I knew it then. I know it now. I submit to no man, throne, emperor or god, but I'll submit to you, my lady." He kissed me gently. "My sweetness." His tongue slipped between my lips. "My Mintha." He whispered the name against my lips. I felt every motion of his swollen lips at my mouth as it moved lovingly upon my name.
I swallowed.
"Really?" I asked.
The hold of my chin dropped as he lowered his hand. "Yes."
"Prove it," burst from my mouth quicker than the thought occurred. It came out as a ravenous command. When he did not rile to anger, I pressed my luck further. "Kneel."
Feyd dropped to his knees.
I blinked, not believing my eyes.
"Have you had your fill?" He asked.
I nodded. His submission was freaking me out too much. It needed to stop.
Stop all of this.
Let me think.
He smiled. "Then, my sweetness, are you ready for dessert?"
His hands creaked the wooden armrest of the chair as he yanked it around to face him. Still on his knees, he leaned forward to kiss me.
"Na-Baron -."
"Let me please you," he pleaded as if he sensed my hesitation. "Tell me what you want. I'll do it."
Yes, he kneeled when I said to. But there was no proof that he did not want to do that in the first place. He was so tall. Perhaps his legs felt better in that position.
I questioned whether to believe he was there to do as I wanted, or just to meet his own end of sexual gratification. Every sexual meeting we had ended with his cumming, too. My climax only sped his.
If he was true, he would do something that did not glorify him in the slightest.
The dais sat in the back of the room, dark, and lonely. It was a mighty seat at the head of the Great Hall with a height that looked down upon the space with condescension.
It was his god-given, appointed spot as a future Baron, possible emperor and who knew what else he could become once he tried. I had no doubt there was much he would succeed to.
If he allowed me to sit in that spot where he was entitled to, I'd have to believe his words.
If.
"There." I pointed at the throne seat. "I want to sit there."
He purred. All too eager he grabbed me from my seat and carried me to the throne. He fell to his knees at my feet, excited and pleading with his eyes.
My palms trembled as I adjusted myself in the seat. "Thank you."
"You look so pretty up there."
I flushed. My breasts fell heavier against my chest with each breath. Pretty?
Pretty in a throne. Perfect at the end of his cock, as he said.
Maybe I could play his little game.
The thrill of being sat in the seat of power with Feyd before me was not lost on me.
Any other that staggered close would be met with the tip of his blade, yet here he sat perched before me on his knees with my back settled in the noble position.
Power moved up through me. I felt its leeching claws up from the seat. A seat of power over the unfathomable.
"Do you think if I cum on this seat here, you'll ever be able to forget it?"
A tremble ascended his spine.
"Mintha -."
But I was in power here. Isn't that what he said he wanted?
"I'd tell them not to clean it either. My scent would fill your senses every time you sat in this seat. Would I be on your mind then, na-Baron?" My tongue ran along the bottom row of teeth. I adored the height his chest moved with every breath. "Take off your shirt."
His lips toyed at the corners, but he did not say a word. The black shirt was pulled over his head and tossed to the side.
The bulging muscles of his pale chest were so beautiful. Deep lines cut each section of muscle away into a symbol of perfection.
He grew larger under my observation. I noticed the swell in his trousers fight against the integrity of the fabric.
I stood. Boldness had filled me with overconfidence. Power. Its taste fully steeped.
The edge of my nail ran over his flesh as I circled him as a predator around her prey. Wicked thrill embraced the animal inside. I wanted this body for my own. It was under my control. This animal was mine for taming.
From behind his back, I bent close and placed my teeth against his neck. The sharp tips gently dragged down his exposed spine, certain not to break the skin.
Feyd's breath caught as I latched harder at the nape.
The one bite I'd given days before still showed in a bruise against his shoulder blade.
The tips of my fingernails dug into the wounds, opening the flesh to the air once more.
Feyd rasped a loud breath.
I bit harder as a shudder shook his body, pulling the tissue farther, and he physically groaned.
Pain excited him in undeniable ways.
My mouth released in surprise. "Did you just …"
"Yes," he rasped.
I stepped away, still surprised and sorta confused. How was it that easy? He faced many in battle, survived injuries of more devastating power and was covered in scars. Was every time a sexual experience for him?
Feyd turned around, an animalistic hunger to him, and locked his arms around my thighs. I was taken off guard. I fought against his assault to pull me down. He liked it.
We wrestled down to the ground. He, inevitably ended on top of me, crushing me atop edges of the dais steps with his immense weight. It fueled the fight for my hands. I refused to allow him control of them.
Feyd moved so quick. He managed to lock both of my wrists within his fingers - painfully - and held them at my waist as he wiggled his body lower on mine.
My mouth opened to declare that this was hardly considered submissive when I felt his tongue run along the inside of my leg up to my thighs.
The wet thick tongue connected with pussy as passionate lovers. It attacked my clit - however - as mortal enemies. He battered and bit my clit, sucking it between his lips with the might of the whole desert behind it.
A scream left my lips.
It only encouraged him.
I fought against his hold so that I might grasp something other than his hand, but they were too strong to break, even with both of my hands.
He feasted upon my soaking pussy. It brought ungodly screams from my throat that refused to be restrained.
My dress remained pulled down. It was only his head that bobbed up through the fabric, one arm holding mine together. I stared at the dancing and bobbing of him as he lapped my inner waters with greed. My pleasure moved with the motions of my dress.
It was an illusion that shattered at the sound of the doors opening.
My body went rigid. Feyd misread it as nearing climax.
"Na-Baron," I whispered. My hips wiggled back and forth to disrupt his tempo.
It was a challenge for him to overcome.
"Stop, stop."
Footsteps came closer.
"Na-Baron," I groaned. "There's someone-."
"Urgent message, na-Baron," the servant said loudly. "From the Baron."