As Long As I Breathe || Paul Atreides

Beginnings Are Such Delicate Times

Within the sands of Arrakis, I saw the faint movements of scavengers burrowed beneath the crumbled rocks. There were the telltale signs of a stilltent hidden below, so I moved from behind the dune to sneak up on them. Clenching a rock in my hand, begging this wouldn't be my last venture out from our sietch.

A women, maybe mid-to-late thirties crawled out, and I slammed the rock into her face. It scratched against her skin. Blood trailed down her cheek, and I moved to hit her again.

A hand tugged at my ankle.

My body was pulled to the ground. Suddenly, the world shined brighter than ever. Colors blended into each other as well as the voices of the people above me. All I could hear was the faint ringing in my ears, and all I could feel was the sharp rock the side of my head landed on, creating a deep gash in my forehead.

The colors dimmed and made shapes. The shape of a feminine body, the woman I attacked, and a masculine form taller than her. As my vision cleared I could tell he was far too young to be her significant other or brother and was likely her son. He seemed to be around my age, maybe a little older. He was the one who pulled my ankle. I could trace his mother's genes in his face. They were making the same expression: fury.

She pressed a knife at my throat, hovering just over my carotid artery, feeling my erratic pulse through the blade. Both of their eyes weren't blue. They're new to the desert. Desperate, they were. These few seconds felt like hours, and I was losing all my water to sweat and tears. She licked her lips. She was thirsty. She was going to kill me.

"Stop, please!" I beg, "I yield, please, I was just defending my home from foreigners."

The two look at each other, eyes jumping from family to me. Blood trickled from my forehead, desperately trying to clot. I'm losing water, losing blood, they're losing patience.

"Please, I can offer you great wealth."

"We don't need your money." She snarled in my face, her pupils poking holes in her beautiful green eyes.

My hands were shaking, but this slight revelation eased it. "What?" Though I knew they hadn't been in the desert long, I didn't realize this couple was clueless about the affairs of Arrakis. I mean, they both have stillsuits, so I figured they knew. But if they correlate wealth with money, they haven't lost their non-native ways. "Money is useless here, I'm talking about water."

The woman looked back at her son. His expression had softened, no longer holding the traces of rage.

"Where are the Freman?" She asked, her grip on the knife softening.

"I'm not leading you back to my people."

"So you are Freman?" The boy realized.

I licked my dry lips. The boy was smarter than his mother. Quick to catch on to things, he'd be valuable to the Freman if he wasn't trying to kill me.

"Point to where the sietch is." He ordered, realizing Freman aren't known for wandering far off alone, once again proving he's a valuable asset.

His mom looked back at me, expecting me to do something. I stay immobile, I stay quiet.

"Point!"

Her voice reverberated through my body and soul. Unwillingly, I pointed to my left. It was a command that overpowered my mind. I couldn't control it or fight it. She used the voice. She's a witch. A bene gesserit witch.

A pit in my stomach grew. Being forced to look at the sietch, I could tell Chani wasn't keeping watch like she promised.

Seriously? She's doing this now?