𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 ; paul atreides

05 ; ire

❝ angry lizard noise - benches ❞

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

"how dare you."

octavia had been a mess of barely restrained outrage for the entirety of three days and nights, every time any member of her family attempted to speak to her, coerce her into a state of minimalized animosity, they were met with threats, harsh words, and locked doors.

she, as any other woman would, was not to be a bartering chip. women, creatures of life, the creators and takers, were not to be thrown around for political gain. perhaps it would be harsh for her to say she would have preferred to see this paul atreides blow up her home planet; however thoughts of such mutiny did not leave her be– especially when she tried to sleep at night.

well, if she were to look for a bright side, it was better if it was her than armani; because one, armani was not the sort to be offered into such an arrangement as she was the eldest and current heir, and, via octavia's little tidbit of information from their almost sisterly oversharing, armani was not all that into men.

at all.

but just because what was done was done, that did not mean that octavia had to be happy about it. she was not screaming and crying, at the least, but throwing fits in the confines of her rooms or the training facilities was not particularly ideal for her dignity.

her aunt, on the third evening after the intrusion, had entered her room attempt to force her into attendance of dinner, as if under the concern that octavia would wither away in solitude and become undesirable; as if this 'duke' was initiating courtship for her appearance and charm.

"--octavia, calm yourself. this is unladylike." lady clarysse spoke stiffly, regarding the mass on the bed with pungent disdain. "you will attend mealtime, and attend it with grace."

"grace, my ass."

"watch your tongue!"

octavia sat up, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing a strand of her dark hair off of her face so the full measure of her glare could be focused on her aunt, who had practically auctioned her off like a milk cow. "who's here to hear me? are there ears in the walls, ready to spread gossip about my lack of decorum? no, of course not."

there was a mutter from her aunt, as if steeling herself to continue the interaction without losing her temper, a temper that octavia was quite sure she never had in control in the first place. "i am aware you are not content with the current arrangements." she maintained, two fingers pressed to her temple as if attempting mind control, or preventing a vein from leaping out from under her flesh with a spike of pulse.

"no shit, auntie." octavia interrupted, holding up her hand as if to silence her aunt. impolite to her elders, yes, but effective nonetheless.

a steadying breath was taken. "you are not content with the arrangements, however we have offered duke atreides, his fremen, and his...prisoners tectumque. they reside among us, and we shall treat them as guests. it is essential that you do not cause a scene."

"i do not understand why we cannot just suggest for them to take their leave. suggest with weapons."

"they would return us to ashes."

"kill them, then. embrew poison in their water, thread acid into the fine linen their clothes." octavia jeered, collapsing back onto her bed, tugging her fingers through her hair out of agitation.

her aunt pursed her lips, her next words delivered in a tone that was almost plummy, as if speaking to a child– which, octavia supposed, was not to far off the mark. octavia was twenty-one, yet was aware that her behavior was more whinging than a pudgy baby, if she was not careful to maintain a facade of stoicism when her emotions ran rampant.

"you are foolish and narrow minded. this...messiah would foresee any attempts at sabotage in an instant. he sees, like nothing we have witnessed in the past decade since the gesserit's vacation of our planet. he holds the power of foresight."

octavia's brow raised in amusement. "foresight? you surely cannot believe their propagandous bullshit, aunt clarysse. the boy is on drugs, it's as simple as that."

another mutter. "he has been speaking to us. he knows things he should not, for an outsider. he tells tales of a planet covered in sand, of captivating sunsets, and great houses that navigate the universe as we do the fields of eros iii."

"he is delusional. his words are filthied with lies and meticulous precision." octavia stated in an arid snap.

"you have not even spoken to this duke, yet."

"yet, even i can feel the scripted lines of grandeur oozing off him in waves."

"that is simply ambition, he carries it well."

"you marry him, then, i want nothing to do with you and uncle corvus' stupid, mindless alliances. if we are brought to ruin, so be it. i will not offer myself on a platter to a man who you have chosen, merely to ensure i stay in line, and out of your way." octavia scolded, her hands forming a white-knuckled grip on her own elbows. "leave."

her aunt seemed tempted beyond measure to snap back, even hit her, maybe, to physically rip the insolence from her lifeless body like the spine of a goat– but she did not. "i will see you at dinner. that is final."

the door clicked shut.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ authors note ; shorter chapter because why the fuck not, motivation is kicking my ass as we speak lmaoo