Rating: Explicit Ships: Feyd-Rautha x Eurydice Atreides (Original), Jessica x Leto Atreides, Paul Atreides x Chani Keynes Summary:

Eurydice Atreides’ first act of defiance took form as a direct challenge to her own mother. In defying her mother, Eurydice has secured the wills and desires of the Bene Gesserit; to be a key component in the rise of the Kwisatz Haderach. Not everything is as it seems. Eurydice stands at the center of a catastrophe that threatens to bring ruin to the delicate nature of the Imperium. There is her duty to her blood, to her twin brother Paul, and then there is her duty to the Bene Gesserit, and the nephew of a Baron she is sworn to. And all that resides in between, there are plans within plans.

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The Survivors of House Harkonnen

Part 1/?

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Female Original Character

Summary:

Paul is dead. Her twin sister, Aria Atreides, swears revenge on Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his murder. When the Imperium gifts the Baron Harkonnen Aria as his ward, Aria realizes that Feyd-Rautha may be the only person that understands her situation- and the only person that can help her survive.

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“—my lunatic. She’s mad but mine, mine.” — Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

     It was a beautiful day on Arrakis, when Aria Atreides’s brother died. His lifeblood flowed from his neck like wine onto the sandstone. Wet, horrible sucking sounds sputtered from his lungs for a moment that felt like an age. The Fremen disappeared into the sand as quickly as they emerged. The prophecy was over, their prophet had failed.      “NO!” She heard her mother yell before the Sadukar gagged her and began dragging her away. They were already behind Aria, but she didn’t move. Aria stayed, the tiniest shred of her hoping that he would survive this. In those final moments, a truth solidified in her mind. That she did not want Muadib… she wanted her brother Paul. Spice twinkled in the suspended air as the life left his eyes at last. A mercy, that it did not take long- but he was gone now. Her bother was gone forever. The sands of Arrakis had taken him at last.      Aria stifled the primal need to cry, shoving the hard knife of sorrow down and swallowing it into her. She would not cry- it was death to cry on Arrakis. She would not give her water to the dead. Her breaths were hard and panicked as she fixed her gaze on her brothers body. Half of her soul was gone today, and she felt the gaping, sucking wound inside of her. “I will have revenge.” She muttered to herself, “I will have revenge for you, Paul.”      The man that killed her brother turned and strode toward her. His posture was casual, hooded eyes glinting in the setting sun.      “What have we here?” Feyd-Rautha —The Harkonnen murderer rasped in a harsh voice that sounded almost metallic. He closed the space between them in a moment, her brother’s blood still dripping from the knife in his hand. A sharp wheeze left his lips and fell onto hers as he approached her, almost too strained to hear. If Paul had punctured a lung, the Na-Baron was a walking corpse already. His pale hands grabbed her face in one hand and turned it, like inspecting a prize cow. Aria moved to strike him and found herself instantly restrained by Sadukar. The sharp blade of a knife was at her neck.      “Going to kill me too?” She hissed at him.      “Perhaps.” He muttered softly, taking in every inch of her with his cold eyes. Aria stiffened as he worked their way up and down her body. Her breathing became shallow and fast as revulsion crept up on her mind.      His eyes began tracing the lines and cracks of her stilsuit. She saw him do it- because he made it obvious. “He thinks he can toy with me.” She thought as the rage shook her mind. The hard line of her mouth quivered as she lurched forward. She spit on the Na-Baron’s face.      Feyd raised an open hand, stopping the guards moving to slit her throat. “Interesting.” He muttered as he wiped the spit from his cheek. His eyes met hers as he licked it on the palm of his hand. “I accept the gift of your water, little Atreides.” The Na-Baron smirked as he continued, “You will be welcome here, cousin.”      He said something curt, in a garbled language that Aria couldn’t understand, and she was dragged away. Swallowed into the darkness of House Harkonnen, the last Attriedes child began to plot her revenge.

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     The Harkonnen servants considered Aria’s hair an absolute terror. Feyd must have ordered her bathed before being wrapped in a black bathrobe and confined to a cell in the depths of Arrakis. A bath was unheard of, but Feyd must have reasons for subjecting her to it- and Aria had no intention of finding out what they were. The servants had managed to bathe and clothe her without a struggle before chaining her up in her cell, but her hair was another story. It was a veritable rat’s nest- years of dry desert air and sun damage hand made it brittle and sweaty treks across the sand at night had left it matted. It had been easy to convince them to let her have the comb and keep it.      Bracing one edge against the metal corner of her opposite handcuff and slowly wearing away at the smoothness, until she had shaped a pointed edge. Fit for stabbing. But she was more likely to stab herself if it didn’t have a handle.      Aria stifled a scream in the dark as she unwound the bandages on her feet. The blood on her feet had already dried, and her flesh was tentatively starting to heal the massive blisters that shredded her heels and toes. He brother had ridden a worm in on the first wave of the invasion. Aria, grouped with the secondary fighting forces, had walked.      Blood began to gush and then slowed to a trickle, hot pain searing into her. “You can do this.” Aria Atreides told herself, “For Paul.” She wrapped the bandage around the hand of the shiv and used a bit of sticky blood to weld the ends of the bandage it firmly in place. In the dark of her cell, she gripped the handle in her shaking hands. The shiv was a rough thing- no balance, and likely to snap- but it would serve its purpose.      She would kill Feyd-Rautha.

—-      Aria startled awake in the small hours to the black cloaked silhouette of the Na-Baron stalked towards her. Pale lavender light of the rising sun glinted off of the obsidian walls in the stronghold. Those dark, snake like eyes were sizing her up as he crept closer. All according to plan- she only needed to stab him once if she played her cards right. Aria took a deep breath and tightened her grip- on a shiv that was not there.      “Fuck.” She gasped, “Shit. Shit!” Her hands searched the darkness around her. She found it, closed on the handle and pointed at Feyd-Rautha, who stood at arm’s length from her.      “Interesting.” Feyd-Rautha said, a slight smirk appearing on his ghostly pale face. “Good morning, little bird.” He crouched down slowly, his grey eyes flickering with a building intensity between Aria and the point of the knife. An understanding seemed to pass between them in the dull light of the holding cell. That she could kill him, and that Feyd seemed… surprisingly amused by the prospect.      “Don’t. I’ll handle this.” Feyd commanded the guard behind him.      “You killed my brother.” Aria spat as she held the knife between them, “Like a dog.”      “Happily.” Feyd smiled, eyeing the knife, “Are you waiting for an invitation?” His eyes shifted to hers, his right hand drifting towards his own knife. The guard shifted in the background, but Aria didn’t care. There was a chance that she could kill Feyd before that guard drew his blade- and she intended to take it. Aria lashed out to stab the shiv into the side of Feyd’s neck, hilt deep. In one smooth motion, Feyd caught her hand in the half of her shiv.      She felt his grip harden on her hand, gliding her momentum into his. His expression hardened, his mouth a thin line of anger. The path of his arm folded into hers, accelerating in an arc and missing his own neck by a hair. The shiv found it’s mark at his direction- just below the jaw of the guard. He slammed his other palm into the handle- a tap, and then a sickening twist through the sinews of the man’s neck. Feyd took out the knife with a sharp yank and spat on the fresh corpse.      “This wasn’t for you, Atreides.” Feyd said at last, “Disobedience is like rot. Easier to cut it out.” There was a moment of tense silence, his hand closed over hers. Aria’s eyes were fixed on the dead man before her, his lifeless eyes drifting towards her. Feyd noticed her distraction before she could shake it, and took the opening. He tapped her wrist hard with his opposite hand, causing a shiver to run up her arm as she released the knife. He caught it in his hand with a satisfied smile.      Feyd blinked and inspected his prize, turning it between his fingers. “You made this, didn’t you?” His eyes fixed on it.      “Yes.” Aria growled.      “Fascinating.” Feyd whispered, inspecting the blood on the handle. The glint in his eyes told her that he had just put together exactly how she’d made the handle. “Can I have it?” He asked excitedly, his eyes hopeful.      Aria balked at the notion. “No!“      “I’d get you a better one.” Feyd countered immediately.      “I don’t want a better one. I want my knife.”      “Fine. Fair.” Feyd sighed impatiently, tucking the shiv into his right inside shirt pocket, “Follow me.”      “Hey!” Aria protested.      “Ah.” Feyd said as he produced a key and unlocked her cuffs with a click, “I forgot.”      Aria shuddered in angry confusion for a moment before she finally managed, “Give it back!”      “No.” Feyd scolded her, “Later. Unless you’d rather take responsibility, honorable Atreides…“ His eyebrow raised as he gestured to the newly dead man on the floor.      Aria grimaced at Feyd.       “We are leaving for Geidi Prime.” He told her as he turned to leave with Aria limping slightly behind him. “Faster, Atreides. My Uncle is not a patient man.”