𓆩𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘦𓆪 Dark! Paul Atreides x Reader

𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

-Threats of war and mentions of gore-

You storm through the castle halls, your hands gripping the folds of your dress as if they might anchor you in place. Harland and a contingent of a dozen guards flank you, their armored steps echoing with a clattering rhythm that matches your stride. As you approach the courtyard, the heavy doors swing open with a groan, revealing the sprawling expanse beyond.

In an instant, a young stablehand rushes towards you, leading your horse by her reins. The steed, a magnificent creature with a sleek coat, whinnies softly in anticipation. The rest of your escort moves efficiently to mount their own steeds, forming a protective ring around you. Harland strides up to your side, his expression grave.

"Your Highness," he says, voice laced with urgency, "I strongly suggest you ride in on Tyroxis. Have Korth and Vyrmor circle above. We know nothing of this man or his intentions."

Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly adjust the freshly polished saddle, its gleaming surface catching the sunlight in dazzling flashes. You lift your gaze to meet Harland's concerned eyes, which reflect his deep loyalty and mounting worry.

"I refuse to brandish my dragon like a weapon to make idle threats," you say firmly. "His intentions are clear, and if I handle this poorly, he will bring war to my doorstep. The three of them will be circling above regardless. When have they ever strayed from my side?"

Harland's face tightens with frustration at your resolve. With a sharp exhale, he turns on his heel and strides briskly to his own horse, mounting it with practiced efficiency.

You bunch up your dress and mount your horse with practiced grace, carefully maneuvering the fabric to avoid any entanglement. Settling into the saddle, you adjust as best you can, making the most of an imperfect fit. You click your tongue, signaling your mare to move. She steps forward, guided by your firm but gentle command.

As the massive gates creak open, your guards take their positions around you, forming an impenetrable shield of steel and discipline. The air crackles with tension, and the sky above erupts with the sound of powerful screeches. You glance upward, watching as your dragons soar high, their silhouettes stark against the sky. Tyroxis, majestic and commanding, leads the formation with Korth and Vyrmor flanking him, their wings cutting through the air in a synchronized dance before slipping above the clouds and disappearing. 

You hum softly, the sound blending with the distant clamor of the city streets.

_______________

Paul stands in the command room, his gaze fixed on the thick windows that frame the breathtaking view of the planet before him. The blue and green hues of the world below swirl with an almost mesmerizing beauty, accentuated by the rings of ice and rock that encircle it. It's exactly how his visions displayed it. 

The Fremen, gathered in silence, share his awe, their eyes never straying from the scene before them. Even Stilgar can be heard murmuring softly about the planet's beauty, his voice tinged with amazement. Paul's lips curl into a satisfied smile, pride swelling in his chest. This is the paradise he has promised his people, and the realization of that promise fills him with a great sense of accomplishment.

"Gurney, alert the other ships and instruct them to remain just out of orbit. We'll notify them when it's safe to land," Paul commands, his voice steady and resolute.

Gurney nods, his fingers moving swiftly over the communication console. "Message sent, my lord."

Paul acknowledges him with a nod before turning to the crew managing the ship's operations. "Continue," he instructs, his tone firm yet reassuring.