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 two: the sun sets on the water
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Before the Imperial Residence in Arrakeen was a line of twenty palm trees. They stood tall, casting shadows over the barren ground beneath them. Aphra had never gotten close enough to see the details of them until now. The trees sprouted long green leaves, fanlike and wispy at its ends. Its trunk was ridged and frayed and cracked, imperfect but beautiful. When Aphra traced her hand over the trees, she could tell they had been there for a long time.
"Kala Wukar," a voice whispered as footsteps rushed to come beside her, "You're here."
Aphra turned around, her hand falling from the tree, "Shadout Mapes. I'm sorry word got to you so late. I understand this may have been an unreasonable request, especially this late."
Shadout Mapes was a gaunt woman. Fremen born. Her eyes were a vibrant blue from the spice and she wore frumpy white clothes, much alike to what the nearby village people wore. She bowed her head for only a moment to show her respect towards the young girl.
"Any request made by the Kala Wukar is something I consider a privilege to obey. You seek safe passage to see if the rumors are true, that the One has arrived with these Outsiders. Come with me, Kala Wukar. I have brought new clothes for you to wear. I apologize for having to strip you of your jewels, it is shameful of me."
Aphra reached out to place a gentle hand on the housekeeper's shoulder, "There is no shame, Shadout Mapes. It's by my request that this be done. I only ask that you put them in a safe place until they can be transferred back to my hand."
"Of course," Mapes nodded before leading Aphra into the Residence.
With the Residence filled with people moving boxes and objects, no one seemed to notice the two women that swiftly moved along the edges of the rooms. No one made any suspicious judgments as Aphra and Mapes entered one of the side rooms dedicated to the housekeeping tools. And no one batted an eye when Aphra exited wearing the white drapes of a housekeeper, now devoid of any extravagant golds.
Mapes led Aphra through the Residence until they reached a large room. The only ones who stood there were a guard and six other housekeepers. Their heads were held low, only looking up to acknowledge the presence of the head housekeeper and the girl she had brought with her.
Aphra and Mapes stood in the middle of the line of women and Aphra blended herself in as well as she could. Hunching her shoulders, clasping her hands together low, bowing her head. She was not used to acting so submissive. Aphra had always been taught to hold herself with her head held high and her posture straight and powerful. Now the only evidence of her training lay in the hidden crysknife beneath her white robe.
Aphra pushed her head down further as a regal looking woman entered the room with Thufir Hawat. The woman was beautiful, dressed in expensive black fabrics, her dark hair brushed neatly back and tucked behind her ears. Aphra could feel a sense of power in her as well, just as she had the man who led them out of the Heighliner.
