From Dust (Paul Atreides; Dune)

fourteen

chapter fourteen:

Aphra set up the windtrap with graceful hands, putting every piece into place as Paul watched her. They had gotten back safely in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun was beginning to split from the line of the horizon. Those who had already been outside hadn't been surprised by Aphra's sudden departure the night before, nor the fact that she came back with Paul.

"You have to pay close attention to windtraps. This part right here captures the moisture from the air. It carries it down into the pocket over here. These right here are the filters. You need to change them every three days. It's pretty simple and very important," Aphra explained, pointing out every separate piece.

Paul could barely pay attention to any of the words she said, though he absorbed every one. His gaze was soft as it raked over her face. She looked at peace here in her home, more so than she ever did at the Imperial Residence. He watched the way her earrings fell down from her ears, long and shining as they scraped at the tops of her shoulders. He watched the light glistening in her ever-changing eyes. He watched how her hair fell in intricate braids down her back, like inky waves.

Aphra averted her gaze with a nervous smile, "You're staring."

"Sorry," Paul apologized, though he continued to watch her.

"No you're not."

"I'm not," he agreed, "You're beautiful."

'Beautiful' wasn't enough though. There would never be a word in any language that Paul could find to describe everything he felt for Aphra. He could write books about her beauty and her kindness and every other part of her, but it would never be enough to encapsulate it all. Aphra was something you had to experience for yourself.

Aphra's breath was caught in her throat at the sincere words he had spoken and she looked away once more, "You're too much sometimes, my miracle."

Paul barely caught pieces of what she had said, but he understood it well enough to react with a smile and to respond, "I speak my words truly."

Aphra put her hand on his cheek, "You show no mercy on my heart sometimes. It's lucky I'm able to bear it."

~

The feeling of sand encapsulating Aphra's body was almost therapeutic, though she longed to feel it without the thick fabric of a stillsuit. A small tube that stuck merely inches out of the sand provided the air she needed to remain alive. She could feel the vibrations of the crawler as it touched the ground, beginning to pick up the spice and sift it.

Aphra hated to think that in mere moments she would have to spring from the ground and be face-to-face with the Harkonnens once more. Every meeting with them only made her angrier. Aphra wasn't an angry person, but she carried generations worth of hatred and vengeance.

Aphra felt every muscle in her body tense up as she felt the crawler coming closer and closer. And when the sand finally shifted to signal the others had begun to leap out of hiding, she followed. Aphra popped up, swiftly darting to the side of the crawler and embedding her crysknife into the first Harkonnen she saw.

The routine was like breathing air at that point. She had been fighting in this war since she was born. She still remembered the first time she had ever held a blade, the first time she had drawn blood, the first time she had killed.

Aphra took out two more Harkonnens before moving into place with Chani. Paul tagged closely behind. He had been vigorously training since he had come back from his journey with Aphra. Mostly with Stilgar, but Aphra had been closely monitoring the whole time and would occasionally lend a hand.

Guns from the thopters above cast a rain of bullets down into the sand, trying to shoot any Fremen in sight. Aphra tried not to falter when she saw the bodies of her friends collapse into the sand. She just kept running until she made it to safety.

Aphra crawled under the spice harvesting machine as quickly as she could before jumping back to her feet on the other side. She waited only a second for Paul to come out behind her, lending a hand to pull him up.

"Move!" Chani ordered, beginning to sprint towards one of the legs of the harvester as it planted down.

Aphra tore the bag from Paul's back and ripped it open as Chani readied the gun to be loaded. Paul looked up, eyes wide when he saw a Harkonnen running at them, raising a blade to strike. He sprang into action, dodging the blade before stabbing the Harkonnen in the chest.

Chani barely even cast him a look as she raised the gun onto her shoulder, "Load."

Aphra suddenly jumped up, leaving Paul to help Chani load as she ran out from the cover to take care of the two Harkonnens that had begun walking towards them. She jumped the last few feet into the cover of the next leg, jabbing her crysknife just beneath the first Harkonnen's helmet. Blood gushed out from his neck as he fell and Aphra forced herself down with him as the second Harkonnen attacked with his sword. Aphra ripped the blade from the first soldier's neck and swung around the cut deep into the second one's leg. She got to her feet and dealt the finishing blow.

Aphra whirled around as Chani fired the gun, sending a flare straight into the side of the nearest thopter. But it only bounced off the shield in a wall of fire.

"Reload!" Chani yelled.

"Chani!" Aphra screamed as bullets poured in her direction from the thopter, but Paul had already tackled the girl back into cover.

The leg of the crawler began to lift away from the two and Aphra beckoned them towards her, darting out for a moment to join them as the leg planted again only a few feet away.

"Its shield will only open when it fires," Paul told them.

Chani glared at him, "I know that. What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"I'll trigger it. On my signal."

Aphra's jaw was set tight as she fought the arguments climbing up her throat. This wasn't the time or place for her to let emotions take the lead. She quickly turned away and loaded another flare into Chani's gun.

Chani knelt by the edge of the leg with Aphra while Paul stationed himself at the other edge. Aphra looked back at Paul worriedly.

"Don't die," Aphra's voice whispered in his mind.

He gave her a simple nod, as if trying to convey that he was going to be ok.

"Go!" Paul yelled as he began to run out in the open towards the next leg.

Chani raised her gun to fire, waiting until the thopter opened fire on Paul before she shot. The flare landed on its target, taking down the thopter.

Aphra let out a loud whoop, pulling Chani behind her as they began to run. The two laughed together, as if they were just little girls again.

With the thopter down, it gave an opening for the others to begin firing at the harvester, destroying it piece by piece until it was nothing but debris on the sand.