Blood & Marriage🩸Feyd Rautha x f! Reader

13;

Shit. SHIT. Shit! S H I T

You wasn't supposed to stab him.

You didn't even want to.

Feyd had pulled it out, dropping it to the floor, leaving behind a trail of crimson, no anger, no cruelty, just an amused smile that seemed somewhat woozy, a whispered well done.

"What happened, my lady?" Ezza asked, fastening up your bodice.

You was set for a public appearance at noon, in less than an hour, deciding on a plain dress of burgundy, no jewels, nothing fancy. There was a plan.

"I—." You inhaled, ouching at the tightness, Harkonnens couldn't understand corsets, either could you. "I hurt him, today at breakfast, with a knife."

Ezza dropped the entire comb, "you did what? Why?"

Rapidly cycling through the explanation, maybe it was overhearing, "but he didn't touch me last night, and The Baron just knew, and I thought he would hurt me so I hurt his first."

Okay so Ezza was rethinking her job, black eyes the size of planets, spraying you with tropical perfume. "Na—Baroness," she took your arm, urging you to hush, "this information must never leave these walls, tell NO ONE ELSE."

You did your own hair, leaving it to flow freely.

"He's killed many more for much less." Her little sharp teeth poked from her pouty lips, "he's killed for fun, to feed his pets, I beg you, be careful."

In full view of your narrowed, suspicious eyes she knelt, holding a finger to your palm, "if he doesn't have you tonight you must bleed a secret part of yourself, rub the blood into the covers, as a sign of intercourse, there are people who check for it."

You stuttered, agreeing it was a good idea, this little gift from the Gods with her shrunken voice pitying you, "people who will inform your enemies your husband does not favour you, and they will use that to harm you, my lady."

Blood.

Secrecy.

Enemies.

Pets? Cannibalism? The Giant Spider thing? Some undiscovered Harkonnen predator? Would he really...end you?

It was time to get this 'MAN' from out of your head. There were hearts and minds to win.

The journey into the capital city from the fortress had been smooth, except for the LITERAL bumps in the road, on the back of an open carriage, pulled by machines in the shapes of mighty black horses, people looked at you with both hostility and distrust, gawking at the hairy foreigner rising in.

But you waved, smiled, a benevolent Queen to be, showing no hint of nervousness with these grim faced citizens wondering just WHY Feyd let you out.

These Harkonnens, with their unusual customs and blood deep aversion to your people, quietly watching, lining the bannered streets to catch a glimpse of their new Baroness from so far away, they were not used to a gentle hand anymore than they understood it.
A subjugated people born into violence and twisted amounts of labour.

It would take time. And would have probably turned warmed quicker if your husband was here.

Flanked by battalions of soldiers, you left the coach, walking into the busy market place, the KOMMANDER CALING FOR THEIR ATTENTION, it was like Caladan in a way, just dirtier, more populated, the poverty so much more pronounced.

And you were told this section of society, fifty miles away from the palace was one of the poorest.

On rooftops, peering from open balconies, listening from windows and stalls, the average Harkonnens gathered, thousands in number, your appearance screened on holograms around the city.

"You may know me as na—Baroness Atreides Rautha Harkonnen," hell it was a mouthful of a name, your voice carrying in the way you was taught to project it, hair whipping in the wind, more people huddled, "for centuries, our people have fought, spilt blood, waged war against each other."

More still, the soldiers becoming twitchy, "but it's my VISION, my IDEAL to bring peace between us, this is my world now, you my people, and I come to bring you levity, respite from any suffering, from hunger, cold, sickness and struggle."

Your gaze fell on a child, a pale, skinny girl hiding behind her mothers leg, face full of ash and soot, "your children are my children, your pain mine to carry, to EASE," hooking a thumb around the woven satchel on your hip, you held it out to the black—eyed infant of Giedi Prime, waving her closer, "for you, and from this day on we can only move forward together."

At the sight of the round, shiny currency De Vries had told you was an entire months wages for a family, the little girl rushed ahead, stomping through puddles to get to you and tear it from your hand.

There was a lull on the wind, the people jumpy, ready for an ambush, all of them dressed almost exactly the same, until you pulled the wheat—coloured sheath from the carriage, the cab bed loaded with coin.

WOW, you would really think the inhabitants were RUDE if you didn't understand that was the norm for them. Man after woman, child after teenager had been given a gift, the atmosphere bordering on celebratory—fifteen sections had been visited, thousands a month of money better off, the most deprived areas of the city touched.

Not much, but it had cost you the majority of your Fathers fund, along with the food and drink you'd given the vendors for everyone to have a feast.

Climbing back onto the carriage, missing Starfire, the stickiest mud in the galaxy covering your feet and a third of your rain spattered dress, the soldiers took you home.

Feeding the Harkonnens, an Atreides filling the bellies a sworn enemy. The act would never be returned. But the gesture remained, a token of good faith, that the festering blood between us was in the process of being cleansed.

Or you'd just rang to the dinner bell for ten billion hungry insectoids.