Old Blood, New Game

Starving for Hope

Four armed guards escorted Elina down the halls in the direction of the small council chambers. She had managed to free herself from the masses and was quickly whisked back to the palace. Her clothes were uncomfortably sticky with blood that was, for the most part, not her own.

They were about halfway to their destination when Feyd stepped into the light at the other end of the hall. Etiquette be damned. Elina, overcome with joy, ran between the guards and rushed into the arms of her husband. She threw herself into his embrace, and he caught her without faltering.

"Leave us," he growled as he held his wife in his arms. The guards departed without another word.

"You were hurt before the fight?" Feyd asked, holding her tenderly.

"No," Elina said as she raised her head from his chest and leaned back slightly to look up at him, "but I wanted the Baron to believe he succeeded in slowing me down at first, so I pretended."

"The one who attacked you. Are they still breathing?" Feyd asked darkly.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, noticing the immediate look of disappointment in his eyes.

"Did he suffer?"

"No."

"Pity."

Elina chuckled.

"I had to dedicate more time to my appearance in the arena."

"You were..." Feyd began, but he stopped, unable to find just the right words to encapsulate everything she had made him feel.

Silence fell between them.

"Thank you for the blade," she said with a proud smile. "It certainly helped that I was given the honor of wielding such a beautiful weapon."

She raised the small white blade with both hands, palms together, facing upward, as though presenting it.

"I promise to clean it thoroughly three times before returning it, and- "

Feyd placed his hands behind hers and curved them around her fingers to close over the knife.

"I will carry the other, larger blade," he said with a wicked smile. "You've earned the right to keep this, my Baroness."

He quickly pulled her flush against him in a heated kiss. The blade pressed painfully against her palm, but she didn't mind. It was a mosquito bite compared to the gom jabbar. She poured herself into his kiss as much as he poured into her.

When they broke the kiss, Feyd rested his smooth, flawless forehead against her own.

Elina closed her eyes just for a moment, savoring it. Then she let herself release a tired sigh.

"We shouldn't keep your uncle waiting," she said.

Feyd released a heavy sigh as well.

"I can't recall the last time I've seen him that angry. I think at least 30 people died," Feyd said.

"I thought my performance went well," she argued.

"It was flawless, but the masses' reaction made him... uneasy."

"Alright, I'll go to reassure him that he's still the Fairest of Them All," Elina laughed as she teased.

Feyd didn't even smile.

"What?"

"I've always admired my uncle," he said a bit too softly, "until today. Until he sent someone to hurt you before the games. Until he ordered the handlers to kill you. I should warn you to be careful, to tread cautiously, because no one has ever undermined his power like you did today."

"But?" Elina asked, taking his hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"But I don't want you to be careful," he said as a smug grin spread across his face. "I could kill him. I almost did, but he was right about one thing. You, Atreides' daughter, can give him hell that will hurt so much more."

Elina matched his wicked smile, linked her arm through his, and walked with him to the small counsel room.

"With pleasure."
——
She stood before the Baron, her husband seated to his right, her brother-in-law to his left, and an overused Mentat hovering slightly behind him.

She held her head high even though she looked like hell and reeked of dried blood. Her skin was itching for a hot shower.

"The masses have yet to be contained," the Baron grumbled.

"Though I appreciate their help, I didn't ask them to save me," Elina noted.

"I wasn't going to let them kill you. I wouldn't hurt my nephew in such a way," said the Baron, "I just wanted to..."

"Show them that no one is safe and to remind them who truly holds the power of this world with unforgiving malice." Elina said with a sincere tone.

"Exactly!" said the Baron, overlooking her sarcasm. "But even before the guards closed in, they were practically rejoicing in your victory. You showed that you are beloved by the people. Your popularity rivals that of your husband, and yet, this is the first time they've seen you fight. Why do the worthless scum care about you and your dirty blood?"

"Because I have already given them a taste of something you and generations before you have deprived them of for centuries," she spat, "and now they're ravished for more."

"You gave them spice?!?" the Baron roared.

"No. Dumbass," Elina snapped without flinching. "I gave them hope."

The Baron's face, naturally pale, went as white as pure alabaster. His jaw fell slack, and his labored breathing became noticeably heavier.

"You were too blinded, too preoccupied with your gluttony, that you failed to realize that you lost the favor of your people long before I arrived. You've just threatened to make a show of the murder of their beloved future baroness. One who quietly schemed to see to it that her people were clothed and fed. Who painfully carved out a sliver of happiness for them beneath your tyranny for their mere survival. One who genuinely gives a shit about them. Perhaps even I don't have the ability to stop a mob this size teething for your blood. Unless..."

"You want my throne? My Dune!?" the Baron said in horror, his breathing embarrassingly heavy.

"No," she said with a disappointed shake of her head as she stepped forward in an unspoken challenge. "I want you to actually do your fucking job and take care of your people's basic needs until it becomes your nephew's responsibility."

The Baron blinked in surprise but remained silent.

"Now, one last thing," she crooned. "It was said that if I won, I was promised a feast of anything I desired from your private kitchens. Having seen them, I'm not impressed. Nevertheless, I think I'll just have a snack."

As the last word departed from her lips, Elina cut her eyes sharply over to Feyd. She stared at him with a wild hunger. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue over his shiny onyx teeth, matching her hunger as he held her gaze. He didn't attempt to restrain the smug smirk as his wife's eyes slowly roamed over his body.

Without another word, Elina turned to leave. Feyd quickly rose from his seat, nearly running, as he followed her out of the viewing box. Etiquette, once again, be damned.

He would run, crawl, squirm if she wished as they returned to their bedchambers. He would gladly be her reward. He nearly felt dizzy with glee at the carnal mental image of her eating him alive. He could be her whole feast. Withholding the truth from him regarding her true combat skills had him genuinely worried for her today. He loathed it, and yet he also craved more. After all, what is love without a few surprises?