My Caladanian Rain [A Paul Atreides Story]

10208 AG [Epilogue]

The one-eyed view of our universe says you must not look far afield for problems Such problems may never arrive. Instead, tend to the wolf within your fences. The packs ranging outside may not even exist.

--THE AZHAR BOOK; SHAMRA I:4

A few standard years later...

She had been as trained to be a wife as she was to be an assassin. The castle kitchen took up an enormous part of the house. Filled with a bunch of Fremen equipment.

"It is all right, m'lady." Said one of the servants. "I will send word to Stilgar about the delay."

"Thank you. Usul wishes to be at the council room for a few more moments." Ilvermorny then turns away. She must go and join Paul before they both get too occupied. The Arrakeen palace is spacious, even more than necessary. It is said to be the largest structure known in all of human history. Paul had planned out the architecture. If she were being honest, she thought he made some outrageously over-compromising decisions. The place was overly extravagant.

"Mother tells me that it had rained hard in Caladan," he said the night prior. They had snuggled in bed and Paul had found it difficult to sleep. "In truth, I think of you, despite the fact that I am next to you, my Gaitha."

"I have always wondered about that name," she said. She had rested on his chest, listening to the pattern of his heartbeat. "Is it because I bring rain with my tears?"

"Oh, no, it is much more than that," His excitement rose quickly. "Before anyone else, I knew that I would be at Arrakis—the planet with no rain. You were the most significant memory I wanted to bring to my new world. My most precious souvenir from Caladan—so distinct that it can only be connected to that place. Rain. I can only have rain in Caladan; I can only have you in Caladan." His eyes always lit up whenever it got to the talk of their memories in Caladan. "Or so I thought...look at me now, having you here in Arrakis."

Ilvermorny loves how his mind worked. She knows it just as she knows her own. His mind is complex, something far from the present, yet living the now quite vividly. His mind could be everywhere. To some, it would seem like a difficult maze, but to her, it was the bridge to her own consciousness, a freeway with straightforward directions. Ilvermorny begins to massage his temples, relieving the tension she had spotted. This will quickly send him to sleep.

"I think I am ready to fall asleep now...in this case." He yawns. That was quicker than she expected.

"Go ahead, close your eyes." She starts humming a lullaby.

-/-

She finds him over the balcony. The sun was high, as he took good inspection of the Shield Wall and the places stretched past it. The bled.

"Must the war wait, my love?" Ilvermorny's arms wrap around him.

"No, it cannot." Another empire meant another war must break out.

"Only a few know the importance of war." She whispers in his ear. He squirms, finding the vibration of her voice, ticklish.

"Have you decided to come?" He asked. It would be risky, sure, but not for a warrior such as herself.

"Of course. I will stand with you throughout anything," she says. "And I will stand with you in a great war. I will remain standing next to you as we survive it."

He takes her hand, placing it on his chest as he stood in front of her. "We will be going to war now... so why don't you give me a kiss?" She leans forward, raising her chin to meet his mouth. "Okay." She replies and was cut short as their lips twined right away. Paul digs his fingers through her hair. Another vision occurs to him. It was him and Ilvermorny. He twirls her around, and they were in the garden, swaying to a rhythm that was slow and playful. It was all under a dreamy light.

"Yes, my gentle Ghaitha. We will survive the great war. Standing side by side." He says, quietly. He parts a strand her hair away from her forehead and tucks it behind her ear.

"I see what you see, my dearest Paul." And they kiss once more. Only a few more pecks. "But the war will not wait for us."

An ornithopter flies by, Paul beams at the sky, his sight following its trail. "There goes our ride, my beloved. It is time."