Blood & Marriage🩸Feyd Rautha x f! Reader

02;

No amount of stupid breathing exercises or kind words from your parents made your heart slow down, the gravity in your stomach swarmed with butterflies, tears in your eyes at the fact you had one week left as a free woman.

It'd taken far too long for all the formalities to pass, the jewel encrusted shoes with a wicked heel hurting your feet, how much longer would you have to stand there like an absolute idiot? Or A cow waiting to be bought? Suffering from all the sad eyes on you.

They felt PITY.

Just as you was about to scream you didn't give a single shit about prophecy and run away to the cost to be swallowed by the sea, finally, much to your horror, right on the edge of your patience, the mouth of The Harkonnen craft opened with barely a whimper.

Lips; bunched, fists; primed; the urge to cut a throat; almost unbearable as first of all the Floating Fat Man levitated down the ramp, his army of freakishly pale soldiers marching behind him—and his creepy eyes were on you, smirk honestly SICKENING, so far up his own flabby arse if he tripped he'd lose his head.

Goose—flesh erupted under the silk, ANGRY, wanting warm blood, for centuries your family had been at war with them, NOW THIS? Leto took a disgusted breath, on hyper—alert, your mother closing her eyes like it was hard for her to look.

And so she should feel bad. EVERYONE SHOULD. You was losing your life, maybe literally if the stories were true, your teeth clenching at the thought of sharing a bed, a baby with the these monsters.

"Which one is he?" You felt the need to reach on your toes, hunting for this nephew you'd been betrothed to since birth, which one was it? The older one with a sour face? "Is this a ploy? Is he old? Mother?! Mother?! I can't even see—."

"Silence!" Lady Jessica bayed, catching Thufir and a dozen of your women in waiting off guard. "Soon, have patience." She calmed as you lowered your head miserably at her tone, sweeping her thumb over your own, "I know him to be handsome, don't fear about that." And she breathed deep, eyes on stalks at the gleeful Fat Man floating closer, "maybe he will come to please you, as your father does me."

Your nose wrinkled hard, expression melting into one of a snarling wolf at Vladimir right in front of you, squinting as if he was trying to look through your veil.

As if you listened to the introductions, mind screaming through a million scenarios, WEDDING NIGHT, GIDEI PRIME, life on that wretched shit—hole with a black sun, away from Paul and mother and father, away from the breathtaking beauty and safety of your home, flat out woozy as the bagpipes reached their most powerful pitch.

The Baron spoke without saying very much, his globes that held him breathing and pumping, you'd been told not to stare, you did.

And maybe he'd introduced his spit drinker of a nephew, his coin—sized eyes glancing at him, maybe it was the wind itself as it gently fluttered the Atreides banner, or the way your mother sized him up, the crease of your fathers mouth in utter disapproval—

But your eyes caught the silhouette of something, man or animal you couldn't say yet, tall, outright DRINKING YOU IN with scientific curiosity, the intensity of its gaze like a bush creature hunting from behind.

Feyd, it was definitely him, he'd been slyly idling behind his uncles flowing black cloak—so mother was right, the maids were wrong, a trick of propaganda, he WAS handsome, enough to make you stop breathing, some CAUGHT TOU smirk on his impeccable face.

But ridiculously bald, corpse pale, enough of a contrast you felt like being completely petty and slapping his head, the need to laugh under his almost erotic eye—fuck major while he peered over HIS UNCLES TABLE WIDE SHOULDER.

You glared at him, judging his all black ensemble that did nothing to hide his heavily muscled up physique, remembering he couldn't see it as your parents negotiated your dowry, (it was a good job he was blind to your features because you really wanted to laugh at the BIG BOY BAD GUY ENTRANCE and that would be a bad first impression,) no coward as you stood proud and regal, NOT giving anything away, especially fear, chin thrust up.

And you made a promise, bone deep, you would never give in to this shit head, never let him have the upper hand.