Chapter Text
Irulan
~
I had always known my wedding day would be spectacular. I was the eldest daughter of the most powerful man in the known universe- or at least, I had been. My father’s position was not so certain now. Indeed, it was less ‘certain’ than mine.
I waited at the dias, a jeweled veil over my eyes, my body wrapped in silks and perfumes- the same perfumes as always, those that disguised my scent, that tamped it down to a savor appropriate for my position. I looked impassively across the cathedral hall- the decorations were beautiful and elaborate, flowers and crystals and ribbons, gifts exotic and expensive and utterly useless piled upon their designated table; members of the Emperor’s Court looked back at me, neutered and well-dressed, watching with uncertain eyes and restrained postures. My sisters stood behind me, wearing ruffled gowns that gave them shapes like rounded apples, fresh roses held stiffly in their hands. I felt no elation, nor any dread. This moment- or at least, a moment like it- had been planned since before my conception, and seeing it through felt no different from any of the other countless imperial ceremonies I had tolerated over the course of my life.
Still, something of this amused me. In the eyes of polite society, this was a wedding of two betas, that ever-so-common political arrangement. I knew this was not true.
(...what a great inconvenience I had always been. A first born child, and an alpha, almost perfect- if only my biology had not chosen wrong at that last crossing, if only it had not come out feminine. What greater monstrosity was there, a female alpha, that which spit in the face of the Imperium’s long-honed and firmly-established gender teachings? Of course, my nature had to be hidden- there was no harm in a female beta, that identity lent itself so well to the apprenticeship of the Bene Gesserit, which would make me powerful and marriageable and acceptable. But I had never enjoyed my education with the witches. It hadn't suited me, I had only been able to progress so far. As an adult I had become too stubborn for their manipulations. My true nature, though meticulously well hidden, had risen within me.)
Now, the one who approached through the great double doors that had opened opposite the dias, the one to whom I had been so hastily pledged- a beta? Surely not. Surely, anyone could see- he wasn't hiding it in the slightest.
(A female alpha was monstrous, but a male omega was shameful- and yet he clearly wasn't ashamed at all.)
Paul Atreides wore white, a bleached imitation of soldier’s regalia with no decorations, the high collar undone so that a strip of his throat could be seen. His skin was as fair as the cloth. He held no weapon, wore no trailing peacock-tail cape, and he had done nothing whatsoever to disguise his scent. A being full of contradictions- a fully bloomed omega, dressed boyishly and without circumstance, head held high and gaze forward, shameless. My Court was struck dumb, they did not murmur amongst themselves. What they were thinking, I could only begin to guess.
After all, Paul was frighteningly beautiful.
Blue-on-blue eyes, Spice-addict eyes, but he did not hide them with contact lenses. Meeting his gaze startled me, though I had always thought myself unflinching. I had seen many omegas- had used plenty, those summoned to satisfy my rut in secret, low-bred, sworn to silence and deported after to distant vassal planets- and he did not look at me the way an omega ought to, when faced with an alpha of highest rank. He was not shy, or coy, he did not avert his gaze, he did not squirm or flush. His eyes were diamond and obsidian as one, unbreakable and clear and sharper than any sword- shield-cutting. I had been told he was a brilliant killer. I wondered if that could really be true.
Our hands were joined. His pale skin was far softer than was deserved, given what I had heard, tales of desert-wandering and time spent among uncivilized barbarian tribes. His cheeks were smooth and unblemished. I imagined the rest of him this way, and warmed.
The overseer announced our vows. Like that, it was over- another simple step taken- I had a husband, now. He was not the kind of husband my father had planned, and for that I decided I liked him.
To seal the promise we kissed. It was a very ceremonial kiss, a press of lips to lips, and he accepted it with no expression at all. I wanted to do more. I had a vague thought that his distance might be disappointment- an omega would want an alpha, wouldn't he, and he thought I wasn't one, my camouflage was too accomplished. I determined I would show him the truth in our room tonight. I would give him what his biology longed for.
(A lustful, excited thought. I had only ever anticipated a hollow political marriage. I thought I might be able to make greatness of this- my father was fallen, so I would claim this beautiful and well-bred omega and become more than he had ever wanted me to be. An Empress, without his hand on my shoulder.)
I stood on the dias before the Court, newly wed, and I tasted my own ambition like wine on my tongue. I felt in that moment more powerful than life had ever before allowed me to be.
~
These dreams of mine, as it turned out, were not made to last.
When the ceremony was over and the Court dispersed Paul left with hardly a word to me- apparently there was business to be done on Arrakis, and on Arrakis the new Court would be assembled, that barren wasteland made the crown jewel of the Imperium instead of my terraformed and civilized Kaitain. I was to join him there, when I was ready.
This was not an unreasonable choice, indeed, from a political standpoint it was a good one- my father’s dynasty was severed, a new one was to begin, the change in planet marked a change in regime and control over the Spice Melange was imperative, of course, I understood that. I still thought him presumptuous. Then, I was expecting him to bow to me, to be- despite the rumors- the way an omega should be, submissive and charming and wet to carry my heirs. I wanted to take full advantage of my father’s failure. I wanted to prove myself, and in doing so prove wrong the expectations that had been set upon me- defy the universe and change it. In short, I was inspired by Paul’s honesty at the wedding. I liked the idea of making ours a shocking coupling- female alpha, male omega- a match that would reform my restrictive high society. I fell in love with this vision.
And so the clothes I packed for Arrakis were simple and handsome, not designed to hinder my movement, and I broke the bottles of scent-masking perfumes by dropping them from my palace’s highest window. I was exhausted by my life of secrecy and dishonesty and hiding- from now on, I swore over blood I drew from my own palm, I would live as myself.
I came to Arrakis as an alpha.
I found, upon arriving, that Paul Atreides already had an alpha.
…
Fuck.
I learned very quickly that my husband had no eyes for me. He had never intended to. A political marriage. I had come here excited by images of myself as Empress, sitting upon a golden throne; I had drawn to myself memories of the omega Atreides scent, preparing to take him, eager to give him child come his next heat, to give him my heir- but he already had an heir.
The air on Arrakis tasted bitter. Everything here was stained by Spice.
~
Paul stood watch over his child in the little garden that had been made in the palace of Arrakeen. A boy, about three, obviously of Paul and his Fremen mate. There was a plan to terraform parts of the planet. It was the interest of the Imperium not to waste any ground for Spice. Or rather, this had been the interest of the Imperium.
“You can find a mate, if you want,” Paul told me. He always looked at me the same- cold and hard and distant, blue eyes like adamant, beautiful and untouchable. “It's not my intention to restrict you.”
“Such as?” I felt harsh. I did not like this planet, even after only a few weeks it seemed my skin was always bothered by the presence of sand, which would not be washed off under any duress. “You killed the Harkonnens my father wanted for me. You suppose there are other potentials…?”
My irritation made me unreasonable. It was hard to be around him, my husband, this gorgeous thing I had but could not have. He smiled at me despite my foolish words, though most of his attention was on his son. I wanted his attention on me.
“That isn't what I meant,” he said lightly. “You can have a mate, Irulan, not a political union. And the Fremen, you know, have no problem with female alphas.”
His son called for him, then, and he left my side, picking up the child and murmuring to him. I left the room, disliking that domestic sight. I felt humiliated; he asked me to accept some low-bred local savage, to content myself. That was what he had done.
…that his beloved Fremen would find me acceptable as I was, something I had never been afforded in the Imperium- that, too, felt inexplicably like an embarrassment.
~
I met my rival in the corridor. Chani Kynes. She was dressed in one of those dusty stillsuits, designed for drinking one’s own piss. Her hair she wore loose and long, dark and wild about her face, and her eyes were as blue as Paul’s. Precisely the same kind of blue, of course. In comparison to me something about her was jagged, like stone unevenly cut- black where I was gold, feral where I was civilized. I had yet to speak with her one on one like this. Even I didn't really know what I wanted to say until I said it.
“I’ll fight you for him,” I told her. She raised one eyebrow, shocked. She looked for a moment like she was going to laugh. Anger roiled suddenly in my gut.
“You’ll fight me?”
“Of course,” I said, keeping my spine as straight as a lance, my hands folded behind my back. A witch’s pose. I couldn't escape all my training. “I was taught by the Sardaukar and the Bene Gesserit. I am well accomplished.”
(Not a lie, not entirely.)
“I was taught by the desert,” was her reply. “And by Paul.”
Chani didn't smile at me, she looked annoyed. That was my only satisfaction.
“Then I challenge you,” I said, and I suppressed an urge I had to kick at the ground like a bull. Chani blew a strand of hair from her face; it was so hard to read the expressions of Spice-addicted eyes.
“It wouldn't matter, even if you won,” she told me. “He chose me.”
“Omegas don’t choose,” I snapped. “They are chosen. I will fight you for him.”
Chani rolled her eyes and- audacious- had the gall to turn her back; I moved with a lightness well instilled in me, my slippered feet silent on the stone floor, my intent to kick her to the ground. That was not what happened. The air shifted and in one sudden blur I found myself on my back, the wind knocked from my lungs, a crysknife pressed to my throat.
“What was that, Princess?” Chani grinned, her eyeteeth were snaggled, mine had been straightened to perfection with wires during puberty. For a moment I hated her. She released me and I rolled away, forcing myself to my feet, straightening the lay of my clothes- humiliation, that’s what this was.
“He doesn’t belong to me,” Chani continued, seemingly satisfied by her dispatchal of me. “Or anyone. Certainly, not to you.”
I said nothing. With another mocking little shrug, she left me.
~
My chambers were not sparse, but nor were they luxurious. I had rooms all my own, separate entirely from the place where Paul and Chani lived. No one on this planet thought I was his mate. Only by the barest of legal definitions was he my husband.
Paul had a throne. It was the imperial seat of Arrakeen, modified, the banners that hung behind him were those of the duchal house Atreides and of the Fremen and another that was new- a banner for Muad’Dib.
I learned what that meant- desert mouse. A weak, tiny, frail kind of animal- prey to the sandcats. Why would anyone worship such a symbol, why would he have chosen it for himself, instead of something strong? I didn’t understand him. I understood nothing here.
I had spent so much of my time longing for a chance to forge my own path, but out here- without the expectations and unspoken understandings my whole life had been based around- I was adrift.
I didn’t know my purpose anymore.