𝐲𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐧 ⁀➴ paul atreides

38 ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ unwelcome and skeptical

─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌘 ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ───

thirty-eight

'I trust the next chapter because I know the author.'

─── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ 🌘 ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ───

PAUL

The only sounds that fill my ears are my footsteps as we continue walking. My thumb brushes against the back of my wife's hand as I hold it in my own, comforted by her touch once more.

My gaze darts to the rocks and shadows move as they hide in the dark, but it signals that the Fremen are watching us.

Another disappears.

And it's then that I spot one of them hidden amongst the rocks, eyeing us carefully.

A sound catches my attention and Stilgar makes another call, some kind of unknown signal that I have yet to decipher.

Someone answers his call in the distance, more breathily, and (Y/N) and I look up to see two warriors perched up above, one of them shifting to get a better view.

He rushes down, scaling the rocks with ease, and slides to stop Stilgar.

The two start talking, and Chani leans over to translate. "He's asking why we're so late."

I can vaguely hear the word 'Harkonnen,' and Chani's words confirm my suspicions. "He thinks you're spies."

"You're not welcome here," the man says in Chakobsa, his tone calm but warning.

"He said..."

"I got that," I nod at Chani, and (Y/N)'s tightening grip on my hand tells me she also understood. "Thanks."

"Stay close to me. Hmm?" Stilgar says, murmuring something to the distrustful Fremen before we start to head into the sietch.

The place is quite decorated, with markings on the wall, possibly ancient. Stilgar leads us into an open area as he glances back at us.

"Sietch Tabr."

Looking up, I realized that the place was larger than expected, there's a beam of light coming up from the ceiling, and birds flew through it as they hid.

There's chatter up ahead, and upon turning a corner, there are hundreds of Fremen, all clamoring at our arrival.

They go silent upon seeing us.

I keep my head up, trying to remain confident in the presence of so many warriors.

Stilgar starts talking to them, and as we try to pass, I can see that their eyes are trained on my wife and me.

They're starting to shout, giving us glances, and some even wail, touching Jamis' body as they cry his name.

"You killed Jamis! Spies!" One shouts, and both my wife and mother give him a stern look, eyeing the man carefully. "Witches!"

Chani walks away into the crowd, keeping an eye on us, and my fingers tightly interlace with (Y/N)'s, keeping her close as she holds my mother's wrist to link us together.

"Stop! Stop!" one of the more elderly Fremen shouts, trying to stop the others. "They don't know what they're saying."

He starts bowing in front of us, and it's clear that my wife and I are confused before he starts chanting a familiar name.

"Lisan al-Gaib! Lisan al-Gaib!"

The man meets my gaze as he bows. "Mahdi."

He glances at my wife, bowing at her. If we were married, then there had to be some connection to this messiah thing, right?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A council of the Fremen elders and wisest sit in a semi-circle, the sun beating down in front of them.

"I need your guidance with the three foreigners," Stilgar says.

"Give them back to the desert," one says like it's the most logical answer, the others murmuring in agreement.

"I saw the signs."

"Again," the leader muses, causing a laugh to spread through the other elders.

"Stilgar, your faith is playing tricks on you," another says.

"The Lisan al-Gaib has not shown his face yet!" The leader counters, laughing at the idea of such superstitions from the man.

"His wife killed Jamis in a fair fight," Stilgar retorts. "They speak our language. They will quickly learn our ways." He moves a hand to his heart. "I'm ready to pledge my life for both of them."

"The desert will handle their fates." She gestures a hand as if dismissing them, exasperatedly turning to the others.

"What about the woman?"

"His wife?" another asks.

"She is more." Stilgar hums. "She fought Jamis and won; she fought with purpose, not rage. She is learning. Quickly--far quicker than any outsiders I've seen."

The elders murmur, somewhat intrigued. 

"In her eyes, I see the legends. She is her!" He softly proclaims. "They are together. She did not boast at Jamis' death, she showed respect. A true Fremen trait."

"Do you really believe it?" The leader tentatively asks.

"She is the wife of the Mahdi!" He says. "Al-Masab al-Ru'yah."

"Stilgar, that is a myth. The Anchor doesn't exist," another says.

"But it does," he murmurs. "He readies to sacrifice for her, and what does she do? Protect him! She is no bride, she is beyond. She is his anchor--she is the voice. I've seen it in her, she is what the prophecies speak of!"

He pauses, letting that sink in for a while.

"... and what about the mother?"

Turns out he couldn't get through after all.