Chapter Text
His valet leads him to the meeting room, then, when the doors open, he steps aside to let him go in first.
The Imperial council rooms lays deep within the palace at Arrakeen, where the walls are thick to keep out the desert heat and the tough wind.
The room is long and severe, built of pale stone polished smooth by generations of servants.
There are no windows, only narrow openings covered by dust screens.
The air is dry and cool, touched by the faint scent of spice, stone, and filtered dust. Hidden vents breath softly through the walls.
In the distance the wind blows hard on the palace, with the wish of shaking it from its foundation.
At the center stands a broad table of dark stone, its surface almost black and without ornament. High-backed chairs surround it, each bearing the seal of the Atreides.
The Emperor's chair stands at the head, raised only slightly above the others.
The room is bared, the walls covered only with the Imperial standard hung behind his chair.
Everyone around the table is already chatting: there’s Stilgar reminiscing about a rebellion on a planet from long ago with a Fedaykin, Korba and Gurney discussing some things about documents and some other people, chief of security or something like that, animatedly talking about a topic he can’t quite grasp. The only empty chair is at the head of the table and while he walks towards it, he notices the people lowering their tones and exchanging looks.
“Thank you for being here, to my first assembly as an Emperor” he says, standing up, in a solemn tone of voice
“I take this role very seriously and I’ll put all my efforts to make my reigning meaningful, I sat here before on the sidelines, but now I’m ready to make my actions impactful” he adds, looking at all the people sitting at the table: some are enthusiastic but others, the majority, are not convinced that he can be as successful as his brother.
“But now, let’s start” he says, sitting down and taking a sip of water from his cup, trying to calm that way his nerves.
He watched both Paul and Leto leading those kind of assemblies like professionals, with the right tone of voice, the perfect timing for the most exquisitely thoughtful jokes and every movement calculated at the millimeter, making it seem so natural and effortless.
How did they do it? He feels so tense, like a cube of ice, focused so much on proving that he’s good that it feels plastic-like.
“What’s the agenda for today, Korba?” He asks to the panegyrist, who searches for his notes buried somewhere
“First, the date of your coronation, your Majesty” he answers, in a sickly tone of deference
“Yes, of course. We’ll have it in one week time, to get enough time for the preparations but not too far”
“You’re right, your Majesty, I’ll put it on the calendar” Korba says, scribbling something on a sheet of paper.
“Next one is the trial for the plotters, your Majesty” Stilgar says, with a tired tone of voice. Oh, how he hates them. If it were down to him, he would have killed them all right there. But he also understands how important is the formality of it all.
“Let them in” Daniel orders to the guards, who open the doors and lead inside first Scytale and then Edric in his antigravity tank, both stopping a few feets away from Daniel. Scytale does a deep curtsy in front of Daniel and keeps his head down, to show his submission and respect.
“You’re accused of plotting against the past Emperor Paul Muad’dib Atreides’ life, with evidence proving you guilty” he announces, standing up and looking at both of them, with a look of scorn in his eyes
“Do you have anything to say against it?” He asks in a solemn tone, already knowing the answer
“No, we don’t, your Majesty” Scytale answers, keeping his head low
“Then, as stated by the law, you are both condemned to death, in two days time, in the main square of Arrakeen” he states, with a firm tone of his voice, showing that the decision is definitive
“You may take them back to their cells, now” he says to the guards, who nod, bow and take them out of the room, closing the doors behind them.
“Are you sure about it, your Majesty?” Korba asks, when the men are far from there and cannot hear him
“Sure of what?” He asks back, slightly annoyed by his confidence but wanting to see how long would he go
“The Navigator, it will put us in harsh conflict against the spacing guild and they don’t seem to enjoy our presence”
“Yes, I am sure, Korba, we can’t let something that important slide”
“You’re right, of course, but maybe something less severe? Cutting the spice supply?”
“What good would that do? It’d be even worse with the Guild and they would kill the navigator for that”
“Let them cover their hands of his blood, not yours”
“It’s blood that’s already on my hands, it’s inevitable, I am sure of the decision and I don’t want you questioning it”
“I’m sorry, your Majesty, it won’t happen again” he says, getting a dirty look from Stilgar for his little moment of “rebellion”.
If they cut the supply, the Guild won’t make them travel with them anymore. Paul walked on thin ice with them and now with this change of regime the ice could definitely crack.
Daniel needs the support of the Guild as much as the Navigators need his spice, it’s a delicate balance which had to be respected or that would bring them to a catastrophic ending of his short ruling.
And another thing is that the people need to see the plotters dead, they have to get justice or else they would blame Daniel for being a coward. They need to have the right to spit on them so that they will not take their rage on Daniel.
But, most of all, it’s a lesson, one that people have to learn. They’re not free, even in the extreme situation of killing, no one is, even the Emperor.
“What’s next?” He asks, in an impatient tone, irritated with Korba’s arrogance and quite scrambled by the whole Spacing Guild problem.
“A more delicate topic, your Majesty” Stilgar says, in a lower tone of voice and Daniel gestures him to continue
“What kind of funeral would you want to give to the past Emperor?” He asks, looking at him in a demanding way.
Here it comes.
Right when he finally had gotten control on his life, a simple question is making him spiral again.
What’s the answer?
Is it always going to be like that? That as soon as a person asks him about Paul, he’ll have a mental breakdown?
It’s a dark place, one out of time and space, walking isn’t tiring and breathing isn’t heavy, floating in an ideal outer dimension.
He sees Paul some steps ahead of him, meditating, closed eyes, sitting cross legged, breathing calmly.
Daniel walks towards him, his steps making no noise, and Paul slowly raises his head.
“Brother mine, you found me” he says, with a terrifically calm tone of voice, one Daniel’s never heard before, without opening his eyes.
“Brother, I need your help, I can’t do this, everything I do is wrong” he almost cries, wanting to bury his face in his brother’s hairs but Paul stands up carefully and finally looks at him
“You don’t need me, you’re ready for this, you can’t look at the full puzzle if you’re focusing too much on every piece” he says, in that relaxed tone of voice, like he’s teaching him a philosophical lesson.
“It’s more the mistakes I’m doing than the good things, I’m throwing away my shot and totally messing up my opportunity” he continues
“We all do things that we regret, oh, I have so many, but you can’t drown in guilt”
“But they don’t respect me, they look at me like I’m a kid that knows nothing of life, I have no power over them”
“Respect is hard to get, you have to earn it and it’s not that simple, you have to work for it, but if you don’t believe in yourself first then how could they believe in you?” He asks, searching for an answer but Daniel simply scrolls his shoulders
“And if you don’t, then be the best at pretending, because no one likes a weak
Emperor” he says, in an harsher tone.
“What’s the answer?” Daniel asks
“You already know it, you have every answer inside you”
“You’re not the first person to say that to me” he laughs
“So I’m not the only one who can see your inside wisdom”
“Well, if you say so”
“You don’t need me, Daniel, but if you’ll ever want to talk with me, I’m here” he says, laying his hand on his shoulder
“Doing what?” He asks with a small laugh
“Meditating, it’s relaxing, releases all the stress, you should try it” he says, then sits down again and he continues his meditation
“My brother was born on Caladan, a place where his father, duke Leto Atreides, ruled with sea and wind power.
When he was a teenager, he arrived to Arrakis and that’s where he realized that it was always meant to be his home. He learned the ways of the desert and became a true Fremen so I know that he would want to respect the ceremonial rite of the Sietch- he lived proudly like a Fremen and he would want to be remembered like one, even in his death. He fought with you and for you and his greatest honor would be to be recognized as one of you” he says, with the most delicate but at the same time firm tone of voice, the pauses perfectly planned in time and he notices the people in the room looking at each other.
He catches even Stilgar wiping stealthily a tear from his eyes.
It’s his first step in earning their respect and loyalty.
After talking about what to say to the families of the injured Fedaykins and what would they do to honor them for their loyalty towards Paul, they arrive to the last point to discuss: Alia.
“What are you going to do about Saint Alia, your Majesty?” Stilgar asks, getting dark in his face
“About what?” Daniel asks, pretending to not know the topic
“Her attempt to your life, are you going to execute her, too?” The older man asks, with a slight worry in his voice
“It wasn’t premeditated, she was taken by a sudden wave of rage caused by grief for our loss, so she shouldn’t be judged harshly. I think that she needs some help, her mind runs fast but in situations like this she has to take some times off to take care of her” he says, in complete honesty, omitting the part where he baited her just to push her away from the throne.
“What do you want us to do?” Stilgar finally asks.
Daniel looks straight ahead of him, where there’s his brother’s sitting between a Fedaykin and Korba, dressed in their uniforms, and looking back at him.
“Do you really want to do this or not?” He sees him signing in the Atreides’ war language
“Yes” he signs back
“Then that’s an inevitable step”.
“The loss is driving her mad and she needs help as she can’t solve it herself, but she also needs to stay away from here or a sudden wave of anger could be irremediably harmful, so I’d suggest a guarded reclusion in her rooms” he orders
“With maximum discretion, of course” he adds
“Sure, your Majesty, it’ll be done” Stilgar agrees, writing a note down on a piece of paper.
“I think that we don’t have anything else to discuss for now” Daniel says, standing up
“You’re right, we can adjourn the meeting” Korba, who had been quiet since then, finally says and almost everyone around the table stands up at the same time, some of them directed to their private lives, others applying what had been said in the council meeting.
Only Paul stays seated and doesn’t lower his gaze from Daniel, an unreadable and judgmental look on his face.