Slowburn | Enemies to lovers | dark romance | false prophets | Space Opera | triangle | strong femme characters | eventual Romance | Eventual smut |
A desperate Baron.
A yearning Duke.
A woman who weaves destruction with an army of fire.
In the m...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Eidan was a child again, sitting on the step of a plane fuselage while Caros apprenticed as an mechanic. He had always been jealous of that freedom that wasn't truly freedom. Eidan was high born, but had to ask to fly, to exist. A perpetual motion of apologizing to his father for being alive. Not with his words, but his actions.
Be quiet, read, ask only the questions that your mother can answer.
Caros tore the breakbat wing from the engine, tightened the bolts, and looked to Eidan. He was an adult now, they both were. Moss was dead, and so was the projected image of a noble duke.
"It's done," Caros said. "Loaded with bombs and ready to fly at your command. Like the prepubescent dream of all boys."
Eidan laughed, "It's funny now. Less so, when people die by my hand."
"On the bright side, they're your enemies," Caros returned, "As long as I get my aim right anyway."
"Would you tell me if I were being unwise?" Eidan asked. "I think I ought not to ask, but I should like to hear you say it."
Caros stepped around the cockpit, stopping to stand before him. The work had reddened his face, but he didn't look anything like a cherry cheeked boy. "I think that trusting Feyd Rautha is pure insanity. But I also at one time believed that crawling into a cavern after a red eyed horse was insanity too, and yet here I stand with an actual purpose."
"That is a half answer," Eidan said.
"I would follow you to certain death," Caros replied, turning his head against the soft gale that kicked up soot, "I trust you as long as you trust yourself."
Sempir, twenty others and Collette barreled down the causeway toward them, hoofbeats echoing over the basin. Eidan still did not have an answer, but he dropped his resolve. To trust himself, or to trust fate, it seemed to all be the same.
The arriving Alica carried heavy bags of calcite to heave into the pillar. A plan that would work if Feyd Rautha were to be trusted. It seemed that all choices were being hinged on trust. Soon, Eidan thought he might expel so much trust that he ran out of it.
"We're ready," Sempir said.
-
Hawk crawled back toward the palace with aching legs. The Galicine, never patient but having grown accustomed to their wild land living, would wait with tapping feet for the call of war.
The night before had been majorly composed of stolen whiskey, stolen women and stolen valor. The men had fought, as they always did, but there was a shade of loss to them. They didn't glow so bright under the empty sky. It had been too long without a proper battle, the Harkonnen hell scape had evidently been little more than child's play once the planes had fallen.
They had lost a war to the Corrino's before, at their very best and most organized. This fact bred no confidence in Hawk as she examined the outline of the looming starcraft.
