My Caladanian Rain [A Paul Atreides Story]

2100 BG

O for the days of times long past,

Touch sweet nectar to my lips once more.

Fond memories to taste and feel . . .

The smiles and kisses of delight

And innocence and hope.

But all I see are veils and tears

And the murky, drowning depths

Of pain and toil and hopelessness.

It's wiser, my friend, to look another way,

Into the light, and not the dark.

Sung on Salusa Secundus among the outlaw band led by Dominic Vernius.

"It was a pointless attempt." The lady Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose. Morning sets and sends its illuminating presence onto the tall Castle Caladan windows. Jessica had just finished parting the curtains open while contemplating.

"You should have known, Mother," Paul had risen early. Secretly slipping into his father's office with prior knowledge of how this conversation will pan out. Later sensing that Paul was near, it came as no surprise to Jessica, though Duke Leto was a bit startled at his son's sudden appearance.

"It could have been a good plan if only I wasn't too blatant with my motives," Jessica proceeded to talk as though she was making conversation with herself.

"It is not so," Paul says.

"Then what else is it now?" Jessica's voice remained calm, but to the duke, it sounded like she'd just snapped.

"Mother, you must've forgotten about your history," Paul grins as he replied.

"Are you now going to discuss history? And what for shall past be than a pitiful waste of time?" Jessica no longer hides her emotion under calm tones.

"Do not be so impatient, dearest Mother," Paul flashes his innocent eyes on the Bene Gesserit. This boy dares to tease his mother. "Must you remember Nicolas Fouquet?"

"The finance minister of Louis XIV? Why must he be so important to my failings?" She composed herself quickly enough. Right before Paul could reply, she made her realization with just a click, The emperor thought we were boasting! I had elevated such matters already acquired, and we know much of a jealous man Shaddam is. He might've thought that I'm trying to cast up more insecurities upon him and his Imperium. The Atreides' name grew to be a threat, and by my actions, I've only proven to him so. Oh, damnation! Jessica throws herself to a nearby chair. "Excellent, Paul, I appreciate the lesson of history."

Paul nods, acknowledging. It had almost made him laugh, if his mother weren't a Bene Gesserit, it would have been such an amusing sight to see.

"And Paul?" Jessica draws a breath and looks at her son. Cocking his head to the side, toward her direction as a reply, Jessica proceeds, "Ilvermorny had arranged a visit."

"Ilvermorny cannot do anything of the situation, and I do not want to use her for such—"

"Who says it is so? We are not to drag the poor young lady into our matters, she is here for you." Jessica cuts Paul out. How overly analytical the boy has turned into these last couple of days, forgetting that he is not yet a man, but a child. "She is as lonely as you are, and there is no reason for you to hate her,"

"She is not her father. She's out of alternatives, just as I am. She would've begged, and bargained her dignity to spare me." Thinking of her, a feeling of desolation occurs to Paul. "I do not hate her." Had it only they could start a renegade House of their own, far from the Landsraad's reach. They could stop being Atreides and Corrino. Youth makes that impossible for them. Where would they establish? Who would believe them? It was far too much, and far too out of question.