Irulan Corrino always knew she'd marry for political reasons, not for affection.
She didn't know she'd fall in love with Paul Atreides, but she did, and perhaps she's doomed to suffer a lifetime of watching the man she loves -her husband- love and...
"You're right," he said again, "some is better than none. Even if she hates me now."
"I don't hate you," she said softly, and Paul whirled around, his eyes wide. "Not really. I had to force myself to hate you."
He stepped towards her slowly.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, rocking their son back and forth. "I'm sorry for how I treated you. I truly am, and I love you so, so much."
She sighed, shutting her eyes again.
"Irulan," he breathed, sitting beside her on the bed, "will you never forgive me enough to believe that I love you? Truly?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "I don't think it matters, anyway. I need to focus on the children now."
He nodded, staying silent.
"Let me hold him," she requested, holding her arms out for her son.
"You're so sure it's a boy," he mused, smiling a bit.
"I'm not as proficient as your mother," Irulan admitted as he placed the newborn in her arms, "but I can control this much, at least."
"I'm so grateful you're alright," he told her softly, then looked away for a moment. "I— I've had visions of this, you know. Of us in this room, you holding our son."
"You have?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
He nodded. "Even when Chani was..." his jaw tensed, and she sensed his guilt. "Even then, I dreamed about you."
She watched him with wide eyes, holding their now slumbering son close to her as he spoke.
"What about me?"
Paul smiled softly at her, reaching out to stroke the baby's cheek with his forefinger.
"At first, it was our wedding night." She flushed at that, but he went on. "Then the nights that came after. I saw you with Ghanima, laughing as she clung to you, and I saw you pregnant, and I knew— I knew it was mine. I saw you kissing me, telling me you loved me. Holding our son."
"Paul—" she cut herself off, tears in her eyes.
"It's alright," he reassured her gently, smiling sadly at her. "I know you don't believe me. I understand."
Irulan didn't know what to think.
He had to have an agenda. He just had to.
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Little Leto (more formally known as Leto II) looked more like his father with each passing day. Paul visited Selusa Secundus as frequently as he was able, which was, she knew, not nearly as often as he'd have liked.
He'd taken to bringing the children gifts, and after awhile, he asked if he could bring her something on occasion, too.
'On occasion' turned out to be every time he visited.
