Halcyon 🪐⋆｡°✩ Paul Arteides ✩⋆｡°🪐 / A Star Wars Story

13.

Sweat still lined her hairline and she still panted when treading through the sand, but Sidra was now rarely tired. The sun sometimes left her kissed in the evenings, tanning her otherwise pale skin. The Chihari was getting used to the desert and she took everyday with a strong stride.

Whether it was the Spice circulating through her system or from the idea of finding Master Obi-wan on the next dune, Sidra enjoyed being with the Fremen. Sidra was yet to say that she was too tired, burnt or dehydrated to go out into the sand.

A faint squeak sounded. Sidra paused from drinking from her water pouch in curiosity. She heard another squeak, but couldn't find the origin in the rock. 

The resting Fremen weren't interested despite hearing the squeaks, but Sidra pushed off the flat rock to investigate. The sound continued to meet her ears, but they never got any louder. With a new found interest, Sidra shimmied herself through a crevice.

What little light was left in the desert barely reached the narrow pathway. Sidra clipped her pouch next to her lightsaber and avoided any protruding ledges of rock. The squeaks drew the Padawan through the crevice until she saw the dead-end ahead. 

At the end of the pathway, Sidra recognised Paul's unruly curls. The young man was crouched over something while keeping a safe distance. As Sidra stepped closer, the tiny squeaks alerted her to what held Paul's focus.

Quietly and slowly, Sidra lowered down behind him. At her arrival, Paul's chin touched his shoulder as his head swivelled in her direction. A smile was already on his lips and the eyes that Sidra found mesmerising twinkled in their bright beauty. 

A nest of desert mice sat in the crevice's corner. While the mother sat on the edge of straw, her two babies were curled together; barely two days old. They squeaked and cuddled, safe under their mother's beady-eyed watch.

Paul pressed his back against the wall to let Sidra get a closer look. Despite the cramped space, Sidra moved closer to be squished between the rock and Paul Atreides. The sight of the young mouse family made her stomach warm and her jaw sit open. No hologram files or archives could compare to the sight and Sidra questioned whether she would ever be able to enjoy the Jedi library again.

'Wow...' was all that Sidra could muster.

The mother Muad'Dib's squeaks were intended to be fierce, but they were too pitched and tiny to make Sidra shrink in fear. The babies were clueless to the potential threat, and their mother never left her place on the nest's edge. It was a true display of the wild and the archives would never be able to capture the moment through words and film.

A breeze blew through the crevice and Sidra remembered where she was. With eyes still filled with wonder, the Jedi looked to her left. She hadn't realised that Paul had straightened his back in his crouch, meaning she was met with the chest padding of his stillsuit. With a tilt of her neck, Sidra met Paul's soft smile and pointed stare.

The two sat amongst the squeaks with their noses inches from touching. Paul felt like he was in one of his dreams, except her light breaths on his face were real. If he wanted to, Paul could reach out and touch the cheek that looked so inviting. But he feared that Sidra would move away and realise how close they were, so the boy reframed from shifting in the tight space.

'Your eyes are turning blue from the Spice,' she commented in a quiet voice.

Paul blinked and Sidra glanced towards his lips, which moved before she could think of leaning closer.

'So are yours.'

---

The search finished for the day. Sidra was disappointed, but she couldn't let the Fremen think that she was unappreciative of their help. They had every right to be hostile towards the off-worlder, but they had been more than accomodating.

The sun was gone but the air was still thick with heat. Sidra loosened her head wraps and tugged off her Jubba cloak. Chani had leant her the piece for the searches so Sidra made sure to tie it to her utility belt for the walk back. 

'Toki!' Chani called to a woman in the group. An olive-skinned Fremen looked up with raised eyebrows.

'What do you think about going home Shai-Hulud style?'

Sidra and Paul whipped their heads up from the sand. Despite them talking in Fremen tongues, the two understood the question and their word for the sandworm.

While Toki grinned, Chani tried not to tease the wide eyes of the off-worlders. The Fremen let out a hearty laugh, before clapping each of her hands on their shoulders.

'Don't worry. This is the best part of being in the desert.'

'What... What's Shai-Hulud style?' Sidra dared to ask. The Fremen didn't mention the fact that Sidra understood her Chakobsa, and she was spared a long-winded conversation.

Chani said nothing while Toki rummaged through her own backpack. A black shape was pulled from inside and Paul stiffened at the sight of it. He recognised the device from the hologram films and dreaded to think what the Fremen had in mind.

When Toki crouched down and twisted its middle, Sidra watched in confusion as the group moved to face the horizon. The end of the black device was plunged into the sand, leaving the hexagon shape on the surface. Toki straightened up and joined the group, before the device extended upwards.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Sidra felt the vibrations under her feet. The device thudded through the sand, sending grains into the air in a rhythmic pattern. She heard a shaky breath behind her, making Sidra turn to see a pale Atreides.

'What is it? What are we doing?' Sidra questioned, anxious from the Fremen's silence and the thudding device.

'Looks like we're riding the worm...'

Sidra gulped.

---

Sidra had not let go of Chani since boarding. While the Fremen merely planted their feet against the leathery skin, Sidra could barely keep her eyes open.

The desert rushed by and the search party used the surfaced sandworm as their transport. Toki, the summoner, used a pair of maker hooks to latch on to the sandworm's skin. Compared to its colossal size, the hooks were barely a prick in its flesh, making the Fremen's presence not worth its attention.

If the sand wasn't catching in her lashes, Sidra would have asked Toki if she was even able to steer with the maker hooks. But her arms were glued to Chani's shoulders, who dared to sit cross-legged. Sidra tried not to let the wind swipe her into its gust and used Chani's stable-rooted figure to keep her balance.

'Are you okay?!'

Through the constant rush of noise, Sidra was able to hear Paul's near screaming voice. She squinted through the flying grains and saw him crouched beside her. His hair was being blown back from his face and the nose tube was dancing in and out of his nostrils. But even though the wind was rushing past him, Paul was solid in stature.

'How are you doing that?!' Sidra cried out, eyeing him for even the slightest wobble.

'Doing what?!'

Sidra was astounded. Paul crouched on the sandworm's back like he had been born there. He didn't seem nervous or unsteady, while Sidra was praying her fingernails weren't cutting through Chani's stillsuit. He looked at her like he was about to shrug nonchalantly, further digging the blade into her confidence.

'An off-worlder will act like he is part of the desert. It will be his home.'

Stilgar had said this when he thought Sidra couldn't understand. It made her realise some of the coincidental connections with Paul and the Fremen's prophecy. With the way Paul crouched against the strong current and moving animal, Sidra was beginning to see how the Fremen viewed Paul as Lisan al-Gaib.

She went to look at Paul once more, but she was torn away by Toki's turning of the worm. Sidra wobbled and even felt her left foot catch the wind. With a surprised yelp, Sidra stabilised herself by clenching Chani's shoulder, making the Kynes yell,

'Ow! Loosen up, eazizi!'