Kala Wukar.
She who walks the desert.
She who is one with the sand.
She who is one with Arrakis.
The girl who he dreamed of long before she came to him in reality.
Aphra of Arrakis. The Desert Walker.
(Dune; Paul Atreides)
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chapter eleven: the path taken
Water fell past the horizon, blue crashing waves tinted bright colors by the orange colored skyline that held up the sun. It was nothing that Aphra had ever seen before. It was a miracle so extraordinary that tears welled up in her eyes.
Aphra's hands cupped at the cold water that ebbed and flowed freely into her hold, and slipped away when her hands lifted. It was just like the sands of Arrakis, and yet nothing alike.
A soft hand brushed along the length of her back, leading a shiver up her spine that made her stand. Aphra turned to see the face that had haunted her dreams her entire life. The face of Paul Atreides. He was watching her with such a soft gaze, it made her heart beat faster and her smile feel fonder.
"Is this paradise?"
~
Aphra's eyes fluttered open, her cheek was pushed against the warm grainy sand. A pale sheet hovered over her form to blend her in with her surroundings. Her hands slowly moved over the sand and pushed her up. Warning whispers had been planted deep beneath her skin, making her tense and look up the desert hill her group had rested on.
Her companions still slept soundly around her and she moved slowly so as not to startle them. The sheet that had been over her fell limp against the sand. She crawled up the hill until she was able to barely peer over the top of it to the other side. She ducked back upon seeing the foreign people creeping around. Harkonnens, floating down from their ship, dressed in their armor and holding their weapons for battle.
Aphra looked back down and was met with the open eyes of Stilgar below, followed by more and more of her companions. They too had sensed unnatural motion. She made a sign with her hand to warn them of the enemies over the hill. She checked once more and her hand flicked out again to recount to them how many she had seen. At least a dozen.
She slid back down between Chani and Paul and put her hand on Chani's arm. Chani looked up, blue eyes blinking away sleep. Aphra motioned for her not to speak before reaching over to shake Paul awake. His gaze was confused, but soft, trailing up from her hand on his arm to her face.
His brows seemed to furrow upon observing the caution and alarm in her expression. Her purple tinted eyes were narrowed and darkened beneath the shadows of her lashes. Her jaw was set tight and she kept glancing back up at the top of the hill. Something was wrong.
One of the Fremen went down the hill, carefully skirting around the wrapped up corpse of Jamis. Chani moved quickly to join him.
Paul opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but was quieted by Aphra putting her hand over his mouth and shaking her head. Just past her, he could see his mother, Jessica, and he saw her sign with her hand.
