And walk home shirtless? Alina, I only want to be oogled by you.
( most people who would see him shirtless would probably try to feed him anyway, thus delaying his time in getting back to alina. unacceptable !!! )
I don't know. I didn't think about the number. Maybe two? Maybe three? I'll take as many as I can convince you to give me. Let me think. ( putting way too much thought into it part 2 ) I really like cotton. Is that a boring answer? It's one of the things that grows on Arrakis, something a Planetologist managed to cultivate during Arrakis' ecological transformation. I like incense bush too, for the scent. I also like Well, it's a fruit, but I like grape vines. Fine wines are an important export from Caladan, where I'm originally from. I guess they're very familiar, to me. Do you have a favorite plant? I know about sunflowers.
ideally, you would be taking it off here, so i can ogle you adequately have pity. i hate being so bedridden and bored. i think i might be dying, actually. fulfill my final wish.
( not to be dramatic, but also to be suitably dramatic. it's a strange feeling, regardless, like — trying to slough off the familiar feeling of sleep, the undercurrent of chronic illness. apparently, she'd taken grisha vitality for granted. )
oh, so just a small army of mice, then. i don't think we can name a child cotton, or grape, or incense bush. but it helps me know what to plant. 🌻 you and alia built it. you should both have something of your own in the garden. something familiar. something like home.
treasonous of a sun summoner to say, i suppose, but i've always liked irises best. the blue ones. or wildflowers. keramzin — where i grew up — had an entire meadow filled with them. i used to hide it in for hours until ana kuya dragged me inside. it was nice to pretend i could run away, for awhile.
In that case, I'll happily be your garden, semechko. I know. I think I saw her try to bathe with lily pads, once. She's so gross. Maybe we could build a pond in the garden? Give her new friends. Her old ones are in hibernation.
You learn to love the things no one else cares about, when no one cares about you. I think it's a perfect name. Iris was the goddess of the rainbow, too. She brought water from the seas to the clouds so it could always rain, and helped Leto birth her twins.
(I've been reading my husband's books so we can talk about them. Do you think he'll be impressed?)
It means you've been slacking in learning your Ravkan. Only one of us is a dedicated student, I see. "Little seed". You help me grow and flourish.
I did. Gods are as dramatic as Ravkan Saints, it turns out. Do you want to hear what else I learned? I took notes, in case you want to test me. Though I'm not sure you can handle being even more impressed.
I'd know more if I wasn't so distracted by my beautiful nastavnik.
It's interesting, isn't it? The Romans where such a militant and honor-bound group, yet religion became as important to them as oaths and duty. Soldiers first, but a spiritual people as a close second. Of course I do, I can handle it. What else did you learn?
Perhaps you'd have better incentive to focus if your hard work was rewarded. 🤔
The drüskelle are the same. Sworn to their God and their duty in the same breath. But I think you'd find their so-called honor bound oaths less honorable than your Roman Empire. Mm. Well, I learned Leto's children were Apollo and Artemis. The sun, and the moon huntress on her stag. It's a little funny, don't you think?
If you can write me one entire sentence in Ravkan, I'll let you choose.
I can tell you what little I've learned. Any Fjerdan history paints them as righteous. They worship many gods, but Djel is a father to them. He's the Wellspring, connecting the world through His water.
The first of their witch hunters believe Djel anointed them to serve his will, and destroy all offenses to the world Djel created. They honor their dead on pyres so they can join Djel in the afterlife, but Grisha aren't considered people among Fjerdans. And so we're buried in shallow graves in their country, and given no rites.
( the rest is — well. her teasing certainty dampens to shyness, suddenly. )
In a poetic way, I think. You don't agree?
Edited (dont kill me i didnt realize how UGLY and hard to read my formatting was on my phone) 2025-01-22 05:00 (UTC)
( i love you, sweet girl. will you marry me? he's learned the important parts. )
They wouldn't consider you a person? You know, we have tools and tests for questioning the humanity of a person. I have a feeling they aren't so thorough.
Well. My father was Leto, and you are the sun and stag. It does feel circular, but then, I always knew you and I were made for each other, as siblings and more. If we two are twins, I see you as Apollo, and me your Artemis. I think it's powerful, and far better than the stories of my ancestors. Have you read the tale of Agamemnon?
Don't tell me you hit your head and forgot we're already married, umnitsa. That means "good, clever boy" before you ask. What will you choose for your reward?
( she is, genuinely, a little proud — which is a good antidote against the impulse to upheave from withdrawal and the question of grisha humanity, both. )
You won't find many countries that consider Grisha people. To Ravka, we're weapons. To Fjerda, we're abominations. To my mother's country, we're bodies for their experiments. Only Novyi Zem considers us equal. Only the Zemeni treat our power as something pure, something our own.
Why would your world need a test, anyway? Isn't EVERYONE human? Even the ones who pretend otherwise.
( aleksander, especially, but it's been easier to replace the sourness of his name on her tongue with a sweeter life, here. )
Always? You couldn't have always known. You were preoccupied with not getting yourself stabbed. But no, I haven't had the chance to. I could add it to my assignments, Professor Atreides.
You should marry me again, I think. You should marry me once a week. Can I tell you in person?
What is the name of your mother's country? And — would you go to Novyi Zem? If you could?
Long before my lifetime, there was a great uprising of machines who were programmed to do the thinking for humans. To make a really long story short, the Jihad was enacted to exterminate all thinking technology and robots, though the revolt left a lot of deep scar tissue on humanity, who basically adopted this hard anti-computer and machine aspect of the shared religion. So, inheritors of great power get tested to make sure they're still human, and not a robot. I was tested. It was awful, actually.
You act like the stabbing wasn't what initially endeared you to me. It's not a very good story, but Agamemnon is the son of Atreus, which is where our last name comes from.
Wouldn't the novelty wear off for you after the third week? You could, I suppose, even if it's rude manners to keep your wife in suspense.
Shu Han. The other country Ravka is perpetually at war with. It's a homeland ruled by women, for once. I've been to Novyi Zem before, for a time. But I still had to hide. I might be Grisha, but I'm not Well, I'm not Grisha to the others. Not in the same way. Power tends to separate you. And men who would use your power to elevate you — and themselves — above all others don't help matters.
That sounds more like an excuse to use history to punish anyone they fear. They do that for Grisha, too. Test children for power and potential, and then send them away. You're very human to me, Paul Atreides. For what it's worth. I don't need a test to determine that.
Your name comes from an ancient story, and you had the nerve to say mine was better?
No, it wouldn't. I'm just too awkward to put it into words.
You know, sometimes it's hard to remember you're held at this high standard of power, a Grisha and a mighty one at that. A saint. You're just Alina to me. Is it sacrilegious to be married to a saint of a different denomination? Maybe you should convert me.
( you're very human to me, paul atreides. he smiles at his phone. )
Thank you, Alina Atreides. You're human to me, too. Manipulations like that are not above the Bene Gesserit. Plans within plans, always. I probably shouldn't speak of it — somehow my mother will find out and scold me.
Read the story, then decide if it's a good namesake. The other son of Atreus is Menelaus, and that story is even worse.
You'll have to plan each one, then. I'm no good with things like that. It's only me, Paul. Does it help if I promise not to laugh?
You're the only one who lets me forget it. And I'd dare say I've converted you already. Several times over. I think you fall under my dominion, anyway, as the patron saint of orphans and those with undiscovered gifts. 😉
Well, I won't be the one to tattle on you. The Apparat gave me many of my titles. Ravka's so-called "spiritual advisor". He scurries around like a rat. Not a cute one, obviously. One who has fleas, and wants to infect everyone else with his delusions.
I don't need to read it first. I'm not going to change my mind. You gave me the name, therefore it's the better one. But I'll still read it. So I can learn about your (our?) family.
I will plan our weddings. A thousand of them. But then you aren't allowed to complain about any theming I devolve to. I only thought well, maybe I could taste you, again. If you felt like it. I know you aren't feeling well, so I can wait.
Is that so? ( paul when he's under alina's dominion. giggling, kicking his feet. ) What prayers does a loyal follower offer to their favored Ravkan saint?
Ah, I know that type, too. The Bene Gesserit is almost if you imagine a reigning government as having another council behind them pulling their strings, quietly, in the shadows. I don't remember if I've ever told you this, but I was never technically meant to be born. My mother was meant only to have daughters, but she opted to have me, because my father wanted a son. A romantic rebellion of hers. To make a long story short, I inherited much power through the Bene Gesserit's breeding program that I wasn't supposed to. They made me how and why and what I am, the accidental messiah of a prophecy they invented thousands of years ago. The Reverend Mother tested me with a poisoned needle at my throat and my hand in a box that inflicted excruciating, burning pain. The test is meant to determine whether an individual's awareness is stronger than their instincts — and so, I passed, despite the Reverend Mother's scorn at my existence.
Ours, yes. And I've stolen Starkov, because it's pretty.
Now I fear I've given you too much power. You really want to??? That sounds more like a reward for me than you. Especially when I'm this gross.
( see: feverish and flushed and incapable of wearing anything but oversized shirts she inevitably shucks off when they get sticky with sickly sweat, hair tangled and eyes bleary from sickness. not her finest hour, all in all. )
They don't pray, so much as beg. For salvation. For hope. For protection. For an end to their suffering. Are you suffering, Paul?
( created. accidental. inherited. alina wonders, fleetingly, if some part of her isn't the same — the making's mistake, placing power in the wrong vessel. she frowns, a thoughtful pause faltering between her messages, until: )
It's not an easy undertaking, to be born into the burden of so much power. I understand. Does it bother you? To know our children might one day inherit our strangeness.
( does it make you want our future less? she can't bring herself to type. )
I suppose that's fair. I stole you because you're pretty, after all.
Indeed you have, I fear. I'm preparing to become a wedding tyrant. I don't think you're gross. I won't let you come, if that feels like less of a reward for you.
Right now? Suppose I am suffering, because my shirt is a little wet with hot tea, and Kettlewing is crying. Do you think Saint Alina will answer my begging for a new shirt? Or a quieter baby.
( a pause, briefly, because he's stunned he never thought about it before — of course their children would be likely as strange as they are, if they're the byproduct of two oddities. how is it possible he never thought about all they'll inherit from him, the same as he inherited from his mother? well. )
It doesn't bother me. The truth is they could be entirely normal, and still be the most powerful babies in space and time, simply because they'll have you and me in the palms of their hands. That said, following laws of probability, I think any child we have will be strange and perfect, like you or Alia. I'd be lucky if that were the case. I only ever resented my own oddities because I felt like I had no choice in them, like the Bene Gesserit already planned out my life before I was born. But, I'd give our children a choice in their own power. And if their answer was no, they'd still be my children. Actually, my father said that to me once. He was very wise.
( on one hand, her sick horny brain has to give a moment of appreciation to the thought of paul controlling her pleasure. on the other hand, shamelessly, pathetically immediate: )
I didn't say THAT. Let's not put words in my mouth. I hear orgasms are meant to be a natural pain reliever, you know. Very scientific research was involved. Please make me come, Paul Atreides-Starkov. You're the only one who can cure me. :(
I've asked, and if you're nice to her, Sankta Alina says she'll give you anything you want. Sticking your fingers in his mouth should shut him up. That always works when you do it to me.
I think he sounds like he loved you very much. I wish I could have met him. I wish our children could. But I know the best parts of him live on in you, and no one — Bene Gesserit or otherwise — can take those from you. Our children wouldn't just inherit your power. They inherit your father's lessons, and his love. I could never resent what you are, anyway. Your oddness makes my strangeness feel less strange. And less lonely.
Hm. Okay. ( not true!!! but ) But you're prettier.
You'd say a good husband would give you orgasms, then?
Alina, you're going to make me blush.
( """going to""" hahaha )
He would've loved you. He was always very generous with his compassion, always kind when cruelty was easier. He probably would've called you his daughter. ( unlike paul's mother who, at best, tolerates alina. at worst, actively plots to separate them. her christmas gifts are still a sore spot for him. ) And our children will inherit your guile, and your strength, and most importantly, your presence. You know, I could show him to you. A memory of him at least, if you wanted to see what he was like. It might feel a little invasive, though. You can say no.
Alina. Please. That could not be further from true.
I'd say a good wife lets her husband make her come whenever he wants, as often as he wants. You can make em wait for it, if you want. So you can take your time tasting me. I can be patient.
( as if she won't whine and cry in protest, but there's something to be said for the war between her own neediness and her undeservingness. )
Let's hope they don't have any need for guile. That's only a skill you learn when you need it to survive. How invasive? It isn't like
( alia, who had stuck her fingers in alina's brain with all of the innocence of a child swiping frosting from a cake, unaware it would feel like another violation. it feels wrong to say as much, like an immediate condemnation, so: )
It wouldn't be painful, would it? The last few times I had someone in my head, it wasn't a good experience. PS: Sorry you apparently have no eyes or mirrors to see the truth with, but that doesn't make it UNtrue.
Can you? ( x to doubt ) I'd like to see that. It's settled, then.
No, it won't hurt. It'll be more like a movie we watch together, but in your mind where I put it. I won't go digging for anything, I'll just be leaving a little something behind. Maybe I could do something very small, like a picture instead of a memory, and see if it's okay for you? Otherwise, if the Library ever opens back up I'll see if I can get a drawing of him.
( man with ingrained technology trauma forgets pictures are a thing for a second )
PS: The Kwisatz Haderach does see all, including his beautiful wife.
( so. patient by obligation, maybe, and her own big dumb mouth. )
Just a movie? Or do I feel as you feel? It should be okay, I think. As long as you're gentle about it. Warn me, before you do it. You're on my mind all the time already, so ... I'd like to try. I trust you not to take advantage.
PS: As a god in my own right and of my own religion, I'm choosing to overrule the Kwisatz Haderach. From here on out, all of your arguments against my gospel (that Paul Atreides is, in fact, prettiest) will be labeled as heresy to Ravka's religion.
I suppose you'll have to take what I give you, and not come before you're allowed.
( sweating, pausing two seconds to see if he's going to be yelled at, carrying on )
You'll know my thoughts and feelings at that time, but you won't be me in the memory. You'll be watching it from a third perspective. It might feel confusing, but it shouldn't be hard to separate between the two of us. I'll be there to help you. If it is too much, you can tell me and I will end the memory.
PS: What is the punishment for heresy, my goddess?
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( most people who would see him shirtless would probably try to feed him anyway, thus delaying his time in getting back to alina. unacceptable !!! )
I don't know. I didn't think about the number.
Maybe two? Maybe three? I'll take as many as I can convince you to give me.
Let me think. ( putting way too much thought into it part 2 ) I really like cotton. Is that a boring answer? It's one of the things that grows on Arrakis, something a Planetologist managed to cultivate during Arrakis' ecological transformation. I like incense bush too, for the scent. I also like
Well, it's a fruit, but I like grape vines. Fine wines are an important export from Caladan, where I'm originally from. I guess they're very familiar, to me. Do you have a favorite plant? I know about sunflowers.
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have pity. i hate being so bedridden and bored.
i think i might be dying, actually. fulfill my final wish.
( not to be dramatic, but also to be suitably dramatic. it's a strange feeling, regardless, like — trying to slough off the familiar feeling of sleep, the undercurrent of chronic illness. apparently, she'd taken grisha vitality for granted. )
oh, so just a small army of mice, then.
i don't think we can name a child cotton, or grape, or incense bush. but it helps me know what to plant. 🌻
you and alia built it. you should both have something of your own in the garden.
something familiar. something like home.
treasonous of a sun summoner to say, i suppose, but i've always liked irises best. the blue ones.
or wildflowers. keramzin — where i grew up — had an entire meadow filled with them.
i used to hide it in for hours until ana kuya dragged me inside. it was nice to pretend i could run away, for awhile.
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Less a small army, more a hopeful bouquet, I think.
I know Alia likes lilies, and lily pads.
Iris is a good name, too. Male or female.
Wildflowers are very you, I couldn't think of a better answer. Loving the orphaned flowers of the world.
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I know. I think I saw her try to bathe with lily pads, once. She's so gross.
Maybe we could build a pond in the garden? Give her new friends. Her old ones are in hibernation.
You learn to love the things no one else cares about, when no one cares about you.
I think it's a perfect name. Iris was the goddess of the rainbow, too.
She brought water from the seas to the clouds so it could always rain, and helped Leto birth her twins.
(I've been reading my husband's books so we can talk about them. Do you think he'll be impressed?)
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She is, and bitey. I'll do some research and we can make it happen.
( ok so
he discovered a new kink of his today )
I think he'll be extremely, incandescently in love with you. And impressed, yes.
Did you like the book?
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Only one of us is a dedicated student, I see.
"Little seed". You help me grow and flourish.
I did. Gods are as dramatic as Ravkan Saints, it turns out.
Do you want to hear what else I learned?
I took notes, in case you want to test me. Though I'm not sure you can handle being even more impressed.
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It's interesting, isn't it? The Romans where such a militant and honor-bound group, yet religion became as important to them as oaths and duty. Soldiers first, but a spiritual people as a close second.
Of course I do, I can handle it. What else did you learn?
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The drüskelle are the same. Sworn to their God and their duty in the same breath.
But I think you'd find their so-called honor bound oaths less honorable than your Roman Empire.
Mm. Well, I learned Leto's children were Apollo and Artemis. The sun, and the moon huntress on her stag.
It's a little funny, don't you think?
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I wish there was a book on drüskelle history I could read. I'll have to hunt for one, and teach myself the language.
Funny in what way?
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I can tell you what little I've learned. Any Fjerdan history paints them as righteous.
They worship many gods, but Djel is a father to them. He's the Wellspring, connecting the world through His water.
The first of their witch hunters believe Djel anointed them to serve his will, and destroy all offenses to the world Djel created. They honor their dead on pyres so they can join Djel in the afterlife, but Grisha aren't considered people among Fjerdans. And so we're buried in shallow graves in their country, and given no rites.
( the rest is — well. her teasing certainty dampens to shyness, suddenly. )
In a poetic way, I think. You don't agree?
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( i love you, sweet girl. will you marry me? he's learned the important parts. )
They wouldn't consider you a person?
You know, we have tools and tests for questioning the humanity of a person. I have a feeling they aren't so thorough.
Well. My father was Leto, and you are the sun and stag. It does feel circular, but then, I always knew you and I were made for each other, as siblings and more. If we two are twins, I see you as Apollo, and me your Artemis.
I think it's powerful, and far better than the stories of my ancestors. Have you read the tale of Agamemnon?
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That means "good, clever boy" before you ask. What will you choose for your reward?
( she is, genuinely, a little proud — which is a good antidote against the impulse to upheave from withdrawal and the question of grisha humanity, both. )
You won't find many countries that consider Grisha people.
To Ravka, we're weapons. To Fjerda, we're abominations. To my mother's country, we're bodies for their experiments.
Only Novyi Zem considers us equal. Only the Zemeni treat our power as something pure, something our own.
Why would your world need a test, anyway? Isn't EVERYONE human? Even the ones who pretend otherwise.
( aleksander, especially, but it's been easier to replace the sourness of his name on her tongue with a sweeter life, here. )
Always? You couldn't have always known. You were preoccupied with not getting yourself stabbed.
But no, I haven't had the chance to. I could add it to my assignments, Professor Atreides.
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Can I tell you in person?
What is the name of your mother's country?
And — would you go to Novyi Zem? If you could?
Long before my lifetime, there was a great uprising of machines who were programmed to do the thinking for humans. To make a really long story short, the Jihad was enacted to exterminate all thinking technology and robots, though the revolt left a lot of deep scar tissue on humanity, who basically adopted this hard anti-computer and machine aspect of the shared religion.
So, inheritors of great power get tested to make sure they're still human, and not a robot. I was tested. It was awful, actually.
You act like the stabbing wasn't what initially endeared you to me.
It's not a very good story, but Agamemnon is the son of Atreus, which is where our last name comes from.
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You could, I suppose, even if it's rude manners to keep your wife in suspense.
Shu Han. The other country Ravka is perpetually at war with. It's a homeland ruled by women, for once.
I've been to Novyi Zem before, for a time. But I still had to hide. I might be Grisha, but I'm not
Well, I'm not Grisha to the others. Not in the same way. Power tends to separate you.
And men who would use your power to elevate you — and themselves — above all others don't help matters.
That sounds more like an excuse to use history to punish anyone they fear.
They do that for Grisha, too. Test children for power and potential, and then send them away.
You're very human to me, Paul Atreides. For what it's worth. I don't need a test to determine that.
Your name comes from an ancient story, and you had the nerve to say mine was better?
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I'm just too awkward to put it into words.
You know, sometimes it's hard to remember you're held at this high standard of power, a Grisha and a mighty one at that. A saint. You're just Alina to me.
Is it sacrilegious to be married to a saint of a different denomination? Maybe you should convert me.
( you're very human to me, paul atreides. he smiles at his phone. )
Thank you, Alina Atreides. You're human to me, too.
Manipulations like that are not above the Bene Gesserit. Plans within plans, always. I probably shouldn't speak of it — somehow my mother will find out and scold me.
Read the story, then decide if it's a good namesake. The other son of Atreus is Menelaus, and that story is even worse.
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It's only me, Paul. Does it help if I promise not to laugh?
You're the only one who lets me forget it. And I'd dare say I've converted you already. Several times over.
I think you fall under my dominion, anyway, as the patron saint of orphans and those with undiscovered gifts. 😉
Well, I won't be the one to tattle on you.
The Apparat gave me many of my titles. Ravka's so-called "spiritual advisor". He scurries around like a rat.
Not a cute one, obviously. One who has fleas, and wants to infect everyone else with his delusions.
I don't need to read it first. I'm not going to change my mind. You gave me the name, therefore it's the better one.
But I'll still read it. So I can learn about your (our?) family.
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I only thought
well, maybe I could taste you, again. If you felt like it. I know you aren't feeling well, so I can wait.
Is that so? ( paul when he's under alina's dominion. giggling, kicking his feet. ) What prayers does a loyal follower offer to their favored Ravkan saint?
Ah, I know that type, too.
The Bene Gesserit is almost if you imagine a reigning government as having another council behind them pulling their strings, quietly, in the shadows. I don't remember if I've ever told you this, but I was never technically meant to be born. My mother was meant only to have daughters, but she opted to have me, because my father wanted a son. A romantic rebellion of hers.
To make a long story short, I inherited much power through the Bene Gesserit's breeding program that I wasn't supposed to. They made me how and why and what I am, the accidental messiah of a prophecy they invented thousands of years ago. The Reverend Mother tested me with a poisoned needle at my throat and my hand in a box that inflicted excruciating, burning pain. The test is meant to determine whether an individual's awareness is stronger than their instincts — and so, I passed, despite the Reverend Mother's scorn at my existence.
Ours, yes.
And I've stolen Starkov, because it's pretty.
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You really want to??? That sounds more like a reward for me than you. Especially when I'm this gross.
( see: feverish and flushed and incapable of wearing anything but oversized shirts she inevitably shucks off when they get sticky with sickly sweat, hair tangled and eyes bleary from sickness. not her finest hour, all in all. )
They don't pray, so much as beg. For salvation. For hope. For protection. For an end to their suffering.
Are you suffering, Paul?
( created. accidental. inherited. alina wonders, fleetingly, if some part of her isn't the same — the making's mistake, placing power in the wrong vessel. she frowns, a thoughtful pause faltering between her messages, until: )
It's not an easy undertaking, to be born into the burden of so much power. I understand.
Does it bother you? To know our children might one day inherit our strangeness.
( does it make you want our future less? she can't bring herself to type. )
I suppose that's fair. I stole you because you're pretty, after all.
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I don't think you're gross. I won't let you come, if that feels like less of a reward for you.
Right now? Suppose I am suffering, because my shirt is a little wet with hot tea, and Kettlewing is crying.
Do you think Saint Alina will answer my begging for a new shirt? Or a quieter baby.
( a pause, briefly, because he's stunned he never thought about it before — of course their children would be likely as strange as they are, if they're the byproduct of two oddities. how is it possible he never thought about all they'll inherit from him, the same as he inherited from his mother? well. )
It doesn't bother me. The truth is they could be entirely normal, and still be the most powerful babies in space and time, simply because they'll have you and me in the palms of their hands.
That said, following laws of probability, I think any child we have will be strange and perfect, like you or Alia. I'd be lucky if that were the case. I only ever resented my own oddities because I felt like I had no choice in them, like the Bene Gesserit already planned out my life before I was born. But, I'd give our children a choice in their own power. And if their answer was no, they'd still be my children.
Actually, my father said that to me once. He was very wise.
( pretty. stop that. )
You're pretty.
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I didn't say THAT. Let's not put words in my mouth.
I hear orgasms are meant to be a natural pain reliever, you know. Very scientific research was involved.
Please make me come, Paul Atreides-Starkov. You're the only one who can cure me. :(
I've asked, and if you're nice to her, Sankta Alina says she'll give you anything you want.
Sticking your fingers in his mouth should shut him up. That always works when you do it to me.
I think he sounds like he loved you very much. I wish I could have met him. I wish our children could.
But I know the best parts of him live on in you, and no one — Bene Gesserit or otherwise — can take those from you.
Our children wouldn't just inherit your power. They inherit your father's lessons, and his love.
I could never resent what you are, anyway. Your oddness makes my strangeness feel less strange. And less lonely.
Hm. Okay. ( not true!!! but ) But you're prettier.
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Alina, you're going to make me blush.
( """going to""" hahaha )
He would've loved you. He was always very generous with his compassion, always kind when cruelty was easier. He probably would've called you his daughter. ( unlike paul's mother who, at best, tolerates alina. at worst, actively plots to separate them. her christmas gifts are still a sore spot for him. ) And our children will inherit your guile, and your strength, and most importantly, your presence.
You know, I could show him to you. A memory of him at least, if you wanted to see what he was like.
It might feel a little invasive, though. You can say no.
Alina. Please. That could not be further from true.
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You can make em wait for it, if you want. So you can take your time tasting me. I can be patient.
( as if she won't whine and cry in protest, but there's something to be said for the war between her own neediness and her undeservingness. )
Let's hope they don't have any need for guile. That's only a skill you learn when you need it to survive.
How invasive? It isn't like
( alia, who had stuck her fingers in alina's brain with all of the innocence of a child swiping frosting from a cake, unaware it would feel like another violation. it feels wrong to say as much, like an immediate condemnation, so: )
It wouldn't be painful, would it? The last few times I had someone in my head, it wasn't a good experience.
PS: Sorry you apparently have no eyes or mirrors to see the truth with, but that doesn't make it UNtrue.
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No, it won't hurt. It'll be more like a movie we watch together, but in your mind where I put it. I won't go digging for anything, I'll just be leaving a little something behind.
Maybe I could do something very small, like a picture instead of a memory, and see if it's okay for you? Otherwise, if the Library ever opens back up I'll see if I can get a drawing of him.
( man with ingrained technology trauma forgets pictures are a thing for a second )
PS: The Kwisatz Haderach does see all, including his beautiful wife.
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( so. patient by obligation, maybe, and her own big dumb mouth. )
Just a movie? Or do I feel as you feel?
It should be okay, I think. As long as you're gentle about it. Warn me, before you do it.
You're on my mind all the time already, so ... I'd like to try. I trust you not to take advantage.
PS: As a god in my own right and of my own religion, I'm choosing to overrule the Kwisatz Haderach. From here on out, all of your arguments against my gospel (that Paul Atreides is, in fact, prettiest) will be labeled as heresy to Ravka's religion.
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( sweating, pausing two seconds to see if he's going to be yelled at, carrying on )
You'll know my thoughts and feelings at that time, but you won't be me in the memory. You'll be watching it from a third perspective. It might feel confusing, but it shouldn't be hard to separate between the two of us. I'll be there to help you.
If it is too much, you can tell me and I will end the memory.
PS: What is the punishment for heresy, my goddess?
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