Shadow of the Sands

"It's all lies."

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"Wear something nice, if there is any clothes left in the closet over there."

She was feeling a strange urge to draw him closer, though unsure if it was the right move.
As Feyd closed the door, she sighed, settling onto her bed. She knew she needed a plan, especially for their impending arrival on Arrakis.

Thinking quickly, she considered the possibility of finding documents outlining the Harkonnens' plans. While it seemed unlikely they'd keep such important information on Giedi Prime, it made sense they'd have it on Arrakis, where the spice production was centered. If she could obtain these documents, she'd be able to stay ahead of the Harkonnens and protect her tribe

"I have to escape from there... it's my only chance... the minute we step on Arrakis, I have to try.." She whispered, trying to comfort herself

An hour went by, and she peeked into the closet, finding only a shirt. Disappointed, she tossed it back in and opted for a casual look instead.
When the enforcers knocked, she had only managed to put her hair up in a bun.

She reluctantly opened the door and stepped out, only to be grabbed by the enforcers who forcefully pulled her along with them.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything," she muttered as she shook off their grip and walked alongside them calmly.

They arrived at the large dinner room with a long table filled with food. Feyd sat at one end, and she was gestured to sit at the far end, away from him.

"Just us two?" she questioned, her gaze piercing as she settled into her seat at the table's edge.

"Got a problem with that?" he shot back, his eyes locking onto hers as he casually sipped his wine.

She shook her head, pouring wine into her glass, but she didn't take a sip.
Avoiding his gaze, she focused on her plate. Despite his stare, he couldn't help but notice her hair neatly tied up in a bun.
As the servantentered, placing even more food on the table, he couldn't help but notice her untouched plate.
"Why aren't you eating anything?" he questioned, his gaze locked onto hers. She finally looked up, shooting him a fierce glare in response.

"As I said, I'm not—" She trailed off, her words halting as she observed him rising from his seat. Gripping the back of his chair, he began to drag it across the room, heading towards her side of the table.

"What are you doing?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow as he approached. He stopped beside her, placing the chair closer, and without hesitation, he seated himself.

"I suppose I need a clearer view to watch you eat," he remarked casually, resting his elbow on the table and propping his head on his hand as he fixed his gaze on her.

"You got closer just for a better view of me?" she questioned, her posture rigid as she maintained eye contact with him.

He nodded slowly, a tiny evil grin appearing on his face
Why the bun?" he asked, a subtle grin playing on his lips as he eyed her hairstyle

"Because I want to-"

"Take it down," he ordered abruptly, his desire to see her hair down evident in his command.

No? I'm not going to sit here and always follow your orders, Feyd," she retorted defiantly, uttering his name for the first time. His smirk widened slightly, seemingly pleased by the sound of his name on her lips.

"Are you Fremen always so stubborn and self-destructive?" he taunted, his smirk growing. She felt a twinge of irritation at his insults and accusations.

"What do you mean?" she asked, clearly offended by his words.

"You Fremen are all stubborn and suicidal, which is why we keep killing you all," he stated bluntly, showing no remorse for his words.

"You—" she began, her anger boiling over as she grabbed the butter knife from beside her plate, charging towards him with it pressed against his throat.

"Calm down," he urged repeatedly, while the shocked servant entered the room.
Distracted by the arrival of the servant, she glanced away momentarily. In that split second, he seized the opportunity, pulling out his dagger and pressing it against her throat in retaliation.

"Did I say something to upset you?" he mocked sarcastically.

"You Harkonnens are fed lies through propaganda!" she shouted, her anger palpable.

"Drop your knife... your butter knife," he ordered.

"No. You're going to listen to me now," she insisted defiantly. "It's all lies. You can't possibly believe that I'm a savage. And no wonder why I'm stubborn when we're always... always... killed by you filthy Harkonnens," she spat out, her irritation evident as she made her point clear.

In a tense moment, they locked eyes, both aware of the brewing confrontation. As the servants neared, Feyd grew annoyed by the interruption.
In a flash, Zurayeh saw the madness in his eyes as he swiftly slit a servant's throat with his knife. Blood sprayed, staining his face as he turned back to her.

"Where were we..." he trailed off, glaring at her, while her eyes widened in shock.

"You can't just... kill off servants when you feel like it," she protested, eyeing the blood on his face.

"And why can't I do that?" he questioned.

"It's immoral," she shot back defiantly.

He smirked. "Look at me, Zurayeh. Do you think I possibly care about that?" His smile turned sinister, sending shivers down her spine.

"I... I think I'm done here," she stammered, rising to her feet, but he mirrored her actions.

"No, no you're not," he insisted, advancing towards her, the blood on his face a disturbing sight. She quickly grabbed a cloth from the table.

"What are you going to do about it?" she challenged, meeting his gaze as he closed the distance between them.

"Do you really want to challenge me right now?" he growled, stepping even closer, his presence looming over her.

She remained silent, her hand moving up with the cloth, reminiscent of when he tended to her wounds. Now, it was her turn to clean up his mess.

"No, just wait," she urged, meeting his gaze as she brought the cloth closer to his bloodied face. Slowly and methodically, she began to wipe away the blood, her movements gentle yet firm.

"You messed your face up," she remarked softly, continuing to clean his face of the servant's blood.

"You can't go around killing them when you feel like it," she added quietly, her words hanging in the air. He remained silent for a moment, processing her words.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his tone subdued yet accepting, "I won't." He looked in her eyes, enjoying this moment quietly.