MERCURIAL ( paul atreides.. )

002. By Knowledge, Disarmed..

Table arrangements have held their prominence throughout time, expanding inward from the meaning behind the seats around it to the delicate positions of the cutlery, otherwise already a silvery masterpiece in House Atreides. There were two occasions of celebration that night -the gift of Arrakis thrusted upon them by the Emperor, and the gift of chance, Mercury's visit when Paul needed a friend the most-, hence the abundance of baskets in the middle, between plates and traversing bridges between those who should be seated. Heavy with fruit, with salads and whatnot, those baskets were a symbol of abundance, of what they gave back in worship for their good fortune, even if to some none of two occasions seemed anything more than bad omens. 

There were at least three clear dishes that starred the famed Ehyan potato though and that was yet another try of Duke Leto's to abide by the noble politeness he has been taught since the first breath he took into a world whose words he could distinguish and understand. Sometimes, something as little as a vegetable thrown into a dish could make someone feel at home and he know, beyond anything else that his biggest regret was that Mercury was raised in two places at once because of his and her father's deals and arrangements. Of course, she never disliked Caladan and she made good friends with Paul, but now, more than before, with a leave on the horizon, Leto considered the heaviness of leaving ancestral lands behind. It was no easy thing, no matter how high he held his duty, no matter how low legacy dragged him in the hours he spent alone. 

But neither Mercury nor Paul were there yet, so that left Leto alone with his Bene Gesserit concubine, Lady Jessica. Not a day passed without him being entranced of her and his own stupidity to care more about politics and schemes of wider range than listening to his heart and marrying her, the mother of his son, when they still got all the time in the world. He felt a rope around his neck with the prospect of this forced migration to Arrakis, even if he tried to make the best out of it; they were lies though, each thought about the power of the desert appealing to him, each thought about perhaps wanting to own the Spice Production and the riches that came with it. He desired none of those which laid further than across the table, further than the graveyard hill. 

While Leto looked at her, Jessica looked at the door.

"They're not here yet." Her voice shivered through the atmosphere ruled by the ripples of light. Candles, spread across the room, were but a flickering companion, forever anticipating the tension it was there to cause. She was quite the imposing woman, but then again, all the Bene Gesserit were resplendent, paradigms to the high regards owed to the blood spilled in the name of omnipresent knowledge. Jessica was part of that select assembly of women whose Voice was not only heard, but always listened; a marvelous offering to the greatest of all wars and Leto was lucky enough for her to have fallen in love with him, because falling to his knees for her was something undoubtedly predictable. 

She was also stern; Lady Jessica had an allure of stone, because though statues are built to near-perfection, bring homage to the vision of human superiority, they are cold and unforgiving. It was the price of being unshakable and hard to break, Leto learned and accepted about her.

Large windows stared down over the two empty seats and on the other side, Caladan became a humming planet, steadily asleep under a starless night. It was that darkness she stared away from which made her tone get crippled by fear and raging need to protect. Because what is a mother, really? Is she not that beast which shatters and breaks, anything from bugs to flies, to people and their mindless actions, just to protect her child? 

"Do you remember being their age?" Leto replied with a question of his own. Jessica did not appreciate the melody playing in his tone for it mocked her concerns, throwing them in the wind for silly squabbles to share at such dinners. While he smiled, Jessica leant her head forward and kept back the rage of her glare, now pointed at the subject of her love, by sighing instead. She was being polite. She was holding back, but it was not scarce she considered Paul had too much of the duke's side in him, so Leto was acclimated comfortably to ignoring her judgmental phases.