Duke Leto Atreides had a woman he loved and an heir he was proud of. The reason why he never married the mother of his son was a political one, the very same reason why he was marrying a girl half his age he had never met.
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She stood tall at the altar, holding her tears back, hiding her fear behind her veil, swallowing the lump in her throat. She was turning her back to the guests, all strangers to her, no familiar or friendly face in sight. She was holding her hands together, pressed against her stomach, playing nervously with her fingers as she waited for the groom, the man she was about to marry, a man she had never met, a man she will probably never know.
She heard the doors open in a thud and the guests stand up. The knot in her stomach grew painful and the air remained stuck in her throat. She tried to blink the tears away and hoped for the best when the Duke of Caladan came to a stop at her side.
"Your Grace," the minister nodded at the head of House Atreides before he gestured for them to face each other.
She turned slowly towards him, keeping her eyes down, still too scared to meet her future husband. The minister nodded again, allowing the duke to meet his future wife.
A shaky breath escaped her as he lifted the thick white veil covering her face. She gripped her hands tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. She couldn't bring herself to look up, instead staring at his black shoes, losing herself in the darkness of the fabric of his trousers.
The lace felt heavier now that it was hanging on the other side of her head. She was unable to breathe, feeling like she would break if she moved at all. She wanted to disappear, wanted to become invisible. She didn't want to be there, signing herself away to a man, to a home she didn't know. But where would she go? She couldn't go back home, her father would kill her for the embarrassment she would bring back to their House. She couldn't go to a friend's, they would chase her away for bringing dishonor on their name. She had no choice but to do this, to become the Duchess of Caladan, the wife of Duke Leto Atreides.
The duke was twenty-years older than her. He had a beautiful woman he loved and a teenage son, an heir, he was proud of. But the wedding today was exactly the reason why he had never married the mother of his child. It was a political matter, an insurance policy, a business decision. He would never love her, and she doubted she would ever know him enough to fall in love with him. Which was for the best, certainly.
Her heart skipped a beat as he gently lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear she didn't even know was there. She felt so small next to him, as if she was shrinking under his determined gaze. He was tall and dignified, his black curls and strong beard sprinkled with white hair showed the traces of his age alongside the discreet wrinkles around his eyes.
She was surprised by him. He didn't look as old as she had feared, didn't look as stern, as mean, as disappointed, as mad... To him, surely, this was only business, a duty he had put off for too long and could no longer escape. She knew he would have married long ago, if only he had been able. She arrived on Caladan convinced he would despise her, but was now facing a man holding her gaze with kindness and reassurance.
He placed a hand above hers and gave a tender squeeze. He nodded, slightly, just for her to see, just for her to get the message that it was okay, that everything was going to be alright, that they were in this together. And just like that, without a word, the knot in her stomach disappeared, the lump in her throat vanished and the tears in her eyes evaporated.
They turned together towards the minister, and she finally felt like breathing again. She could barely hear the words, could barely feel herself respond, as if she were on autopilot, like she was witnessing this wedding and not getting married herself.
It was over faster than she had imagined. Was it really all it took to be married to another person? A couple of sentences, a couple of questions, a couple of rings... that was all it took to become a family.
"You may now kiss the bride."
The knot in her stomach returned as she was reminded of that necessary final step. She expected him to just do it, waiting anxiously as he could force himself on her any second now. But seconds came and went, and he still hadn't moved. She gathered what was left of her courage and looked up from the ground to find his gaze once more. What she found was a silent question, something simple enough no one had ever asked for or cared about: her consent. She swallowed away the lump in her throat before she gave him a discreet nod.
It wasn't just her consent or her approval he wanted. He didn't technically need it. He had to kiss her, as per tradition. The guests were watching expectantly. They had to kiss, whether they wanted it or not. But he wanted her to be ready. He wanted her to feel in charge. He wanted her to choose when. He would have waited minutes more, hours, days until she was ready. She had been taken from her home, from her school, from her family and friends, from her planet, days before the wedding. She had had no time to prepare, barely any time to say goodbye. She had left everything behind to be married off to him because he was a duke and her father was influential and powerful enough to make sure this move to Arrakis would go as smoothly as possible, to make sure any plans of coming after House Atreides would either come to an end or fail miserably.
He felt guilty for bringing her here, for accepting the deal with her cruel father, for putting an end to her dreams, whatever they were. But he also felt grateful, as her sacrifice meant the survival of his House, the safety of his son and the prosperity of his people. He was indebted to her, and her fear and tears pained him greatly.
So when he leaned over, he did so slowly, as he gently took her chin between his index and his thumb, and when he pressed his lips onto hers he made sure to put all of his gratitude into the kiss, all of his kindness, all of his tenderness, hoping she would get it all intact.
He made it quick but meaningful – as chaste as it could be. Afterwards, he whispered in her right ear so that the guests couldn't read his lips and she nodded in agreement. He took her hand and gave it another gentle squeeze as they turned to face their guests.
"The Duke and Duchess of Caladan, Leto and Sierra Atreides."
The minister announced the newlyweds to the crowded temple now filling with cheering applause. Leto took the first step off the altar, Sierra's fingers intertwined with his. They walked side by side, as equals, as they made their way out of the suffocating shrine. It was the longest walk she had ever had to make, the hardest thing she had ever had to do. But with each step resonated Leto's words inside her head: keep your head high, look straight ahead.
